The Love Wager (Mr. Wrong Number, #2)(64)

God help him.

Her hands flexed on his chest, grasping, and it was like an electric shock that he felt everywhere. He trailed his mouth down to her throat, where her skin smelled like the Chanel No. 5 she’d left on the vanity in their room, and he wanted to consume her.

The skin on her throat, just under her ear, underneath the curtain of hair on the back of her neck—he wanted to taste every inch of it. She made a noise in the back of her throat, a demand, and he moved behind her, lifting her hair in his fist so he could drag his teeth over her nape.

“Jack,” she said around a sigh, slapping her palms against the freezer door, “that is . . .”

She trailed off, and he said against her skin, “Hot?”

“Mmmm,” she breathed, pressing her backside against his front. “I was going to say ‘wicked.’?”

He wrapped a hand around her waist and pulled her back, closer, so she was flush against his body. “You make me that way.”

“What time is it?” she asked, making a little noise as he nibbled at the skin between her shoulder blades. The red bridesmaid dress exposed half of her back, and he would be eternally grateful to Lillie for selecting the style.

“Almost ten,” he said, unwilling to leave her body to verify.

“Dammit, we only have a few minutes before the bouquet toss,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. “Please hurry, Jack.”

Her words almost made him dizzy with lust, and he clenched his teeth as he said, “By ‘hurry,’ you mean . . .”

She answered him with her hands on his belt.





Hallie


Apparently that was all it took.

Jack muttered a string of obscenities as he hurried to multitask things like belts and zippers. She felt she was going to die waiting as he slid his hands up her dress, his fingers drawing a line up the sides of her thighs as he raised the skirt and bunched it in his hands.

And then he was there—oh, God.

They groaned in unison, and after that his hands were on her hips and she might’ve lost consciousness as he drove her absolutely wild.

“This doesn’t count,” he said, his voice thick and hot, “as our first time post-hotel.”

“Don’t,” she replied, bending a little lower and arching her back, making him growl, “be bossy.”

“Honey,” he rasped, and then her knees nearly gave out as he touched her with a talented hand. “At this moment, I will be whatever you want me to be.”

“Jack?”

They both froze at the sound of Hallie’s mother’s voice. She started knocking on the kitchen door, pounding, and Jack said, “Shit.”

“Don’t you dare stop,” Hallie said.

“Your mother—”

“Is locked out.”

He groaned into her neck and said, “I didn’t lock the door.”

“I did.” She looked at him over her shoulder.

He lifted his head and his eyes were hot blue on hers. “You did?”

She nodded.

“You fucking hero,” he said, making her gasp as he started moving again.

She laughed and moaned at the same time.

He muttered into her hair, “I want to see your face.”

“What?”

“Your face.” He turned her, breaking contact for only a split second before sliding right back inside her.

“Well, hello,” she breathed, her eyes heavy as he smirked down at her.

“Better,” he said, his face going all intense as his hands found her ass and he lifted her, pinning her against the freezer door with his big body.

“So much better,” she whispered, letting her head fall back against the door as she grasped at his back and he continued moving in a way that made her want to scream.

“Like the hotel,” he panted, at the exact second she whispered, “This is just like the hotel.”

She opened her eyes and smiled at him, but it quickly fell away as his body pushed her harder, drove her deeper, as his blue eyes penetrated hers in the hottest way.

“Hal,” he bit out, his nostrils flared, the muscles in his neck straining above his shirt, “God, I—”

She raised her mouth and swallowed whatever he was going to say in a desperate, wild, hungry kiss.



* * *



? ? ?

“Your mom thinks I’m evil,” Jack said, looking over Hallie’s head toward where her mother was seated.

They were standing beside the gift table, where Hallie had been instructed to count how many packages would need to be carried up to her sister’s room.

“She just didn’t understand why the door was locked,” Hallie said, grinning. She was having trouble not grinning as she talked to Jack like they hadn’t just had screamingly hot sex in the banquet kitchen. “And why it took so long for us to open it.”

“You’re enjoying this,” he said, managing to look disgusted and amused all at the same time.

“Am not.” She looked at his handsome face, heard the notes of “A Groovy Kind of Love” coming out of the DJ’s speakers, and was a little nervous about how happy she felt at that moment.

“Then why are you smiling?”

She rolled her eyes. “Because I’m happy.”