Stay with Me (Wait for You, #3)(85)

And he touched me again.

His large hand closed over my left breast, and I knew he could feel the scars there, but the caress didn’t stumble as he zeroed onto the now-aching tip. Jax was good . . . so good that even through a T-shirt and a tank top, he had my nipple puckered when his thumb and forefinger got going, and sharp tingles arced from my breasts to down south. I gasped into the hot kiss, raising my back, and I wasn’t disappointed when he moved to my other breast.

“Fuck, I love that sound you make,” he all but growled against my mouth. He kissed me again. “I want to hear it again.”

So he made me make that sound again, and I was done with not squirming, but I wanted to touch him. I knew I needed to act now, because if I didn’t, his hand would be south again, and hell, all bets were off.

Smoothing my hand off the back of his neck, I slid it across the rough skin of his chest, and almost forgot what I was doing when I imagined what our skin would feel like with nothing between us. Not like that was ever going to happen, so I refocused on my path, trailing my hand down his side, then across the flat expanse of his upper stomach.

“What are you up to?’ he asked, voice husky.

“Nothing.”

Jax lifted up so there was space between our bodies, and I loved the way his abs tightened with the movement. He arched a brow. “Nothing?”

Shaking my head, I bit down on my lip as my fingers skated around his navel and reached the band on his black boxer briefs. With a deep breath, I slipped my fingers under the band.

He caught my wrist. “You want to touch me?”

Warmth flooded my face and a different kind of heat hit my veins. “Yes.” I forced my gaze up, meeting his. “I want to give you . . . what you’ve given me.”

The hunger in his stare sent a shiver of awareness down my spine. “I like that. I want that.” Dipping his head, he caught my lower lip in a quick kiss. “I’ll make you a deal.”

“A deal?”

He trailed his lips across my jaw. “Yeah. A deal. You can touch me.” He moved my wrist by mere inches, lowering my hand over the short, crisp hairs. “But you got to take off the shirt.”

“My shirt?”

He kissed my temple. “Yes. The shirt. It’s got to come off.”

My heart pumped as I tensed. Taking off the shirt didn’t mean I was getting naked. I had a tank top underneath, but it would show off the scars on my upper chest and it would expose some of my back. But I was also on my back, so it wasn’t like he’d see that.

“I want you to touch me,” Jax said to me, and I shivered again. “Real bad. You want it, too.” His teeth skated over my earlobe. “Just the shirt.”

I didn’t know if I could do it, but I nodded and then whispered, “Okay.”

Jax acted fast. He drew my hand away from him and caught my shirt under the hem in one fist. His other hand slid under my lower back and he lifted me up enough to get the shirt up and then, in a second, it was over my head.

I lay back down, eyes wide and heart racing. His gaze met mine as he dropped the shirt on the floor and then his gaze slowly tracked down my face, over my throat and lower. His stare lingered on my chest, and fear pierced my belly. I moved to cross my arms.

“Don’t you dare,” he ordered in a gentle way. “There’s nothing you need to hide.”

My chest squeezed as his hand trailed over my breast. It was then I realized what he was staring at. It wasn’t the small visible patch of skin between my breasts or the slice showing above my left breast.

It was something else.

The tips of my breasts were aching and hard, pushing against the thin material of the tank top, and my breath caught in a half laugh, half sob. His gaze flicked back, holding my stare as he lowered his head.

His mouth hit the skin between my breasts first and he kissed me there, then he went to the tip of one breast, also kissing me there, through the material, and he sucked deep, causing my back to arch clear off the bed as a riot of sensation rocketed through me.

God, I’d never felt that before.

“You like that?” he asked.

I panted out a breathy “Yes.”

He moved to my other breast, and that was awesome. I could barely breathe as his hand got involved, and I almost forgot the purpose behind taking off my shirt, because I had no idea how sensitive I could be there, but then he lifted his head. He got down to his side of the deal, and he was fast about it. Reaching down, he hooked his fingers under the band of his boxers and shimmied it down his hips.

I got my first complete look at him.

Wow.

That was also awesome.

Jax was . . . I stared at him, taking in the thickness and length, and yeah, I really had no words.

“I don’t mind you staring at me like that, but this is going to be over before you even touch me if you keep it up.”

“Seriously?” I dragged my gaze to his.

He grinned. “Seriously.”

“I kind of like that,” I admitted.

There was a pause, then he threw his head back and let out a deep laugh. “I bet.”

Before I lost my courage, I reached between us and wrapped my hand around him. His laughter faded into a masculine moan and then his hips jerked as I slid my hand up his length.

I didn’t have to fumble around and figure out what he liked, because he placed his hand over mine, setting up a rhythm and pressure. He even did this thing with my thumb, where he moved it over his tip, and by the way he kissed me after, going deep, I knew he liked that. So after I made another pass from the root to the tip, I did it again.