A Daddy for Jacoby(55)

Biting her bottom lip to hold back a triumphant smile, Gina grabbed on to his dress shirt. His eyes were glued to her mouth, making it impossible for her not to soothe the self-inflicted bite mark with a swipe of her tongue.

Did he just growl?

“Then maybe you should finish what you started at the dance,” she whispered. Feeling a new boldness, Gina pushed up on her tiptoes, her hips shifting in a natural rhythm against him as her mouth stopped inches from his.

“Meaning what?”

“You were going to kiss me before we were interrupted.”

“Kissing you in public, fully clothed, is a lot different than kissing you here.” Justin dropped his head, his lips warm on her bare shoulder. “Or here.” He trailed his mouth to the curve of her neck, gently nipping. “Or here.”

Gina tried and failed to hold back a low mewl when his lips reached her ear, the heat of his tongue circling the outer shell. “We’re—we’re still clothed now.”

“Not for long.”

His warning, spoken against her lips before he took her mouth, caused her heart to pound wildly. He tasted dark and dangerous, like the smooth whiskey on his tongue and the cool night air that clung to his skin. She wound her arms around his neck, fingers curling into the thick strands of his hair. He angled his head to deepen the kiss, more demanding and greedy now. She welcomed him with the quick swipes of her tongue against his.

This kiss was more passionate, more carnal and more decadent than the one they’d shared a few weeks ago, if that was even possible. It burned hotter and brighter, causing a rush of desire to sizzle through every inch of her. His mouth left hers and she gasped for air, instantly missing his touch. Then his lips moved to her other shoulder, his tongue leaving a moist trail to her collarbone. Her eyes drifted closed as she cradled his head in her hands and arched her back as he moved lower.

Was she directing him? She didn’t know or care. All she knew was she didn’t want him to stop.





Chapter Twelve





Justin moaned when he reached the end of warm, soft skin and the scratchy material of Gina’s dress scraped against his chin. It also rasped over his chest and stomach, roughing the already tender skin, but he didn’t care. Gina was in his arms, warm, willing and wanton.

He was in heaven.

The swell of her breasts rose from the front of her dress, even more so when she leaned back in his arms. He moved his lips over her skin, pausing to breathe in her spicy scent. The skirt’s ruffled layers kept him from fully appreciating the curves he held on to, so he crept one hand up her back, searching for the zipper.

Nothing. Disappointment coursed through him. Realizing his self-control was hanging on by a rapidly unraveling thread, he straightened, lifted his head and bracketed his hands on Gina’s waist to set her away from him. When she met his gaze, he read an intense longing in her eyes and fought hard against giving in to the need to kiss her again.

“Gina…”

Her hands drifted from his jaw to rest against his chest, her bright pink fingernails scraping against his skin.

“Gina, you need to be sure—”

She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his chest. “Have I done something to give you the impression I’m not?”

No, she hadn’t, but he wanted—no, needed—to be certain she knew exactly where this was headed.

Justin bit back a groan when the wet heat of her tongue danced over his nipples. Damn, he hadn’t planned this. Not that the thought of making love to her hadn’t crossed his mind when he’d showered and gotten dressed tonight.

Hell, the idea of having this lady in his arms, in his bed, had been permanently etched in his brain ever since that night she’d crawled beneath his sheets at his old apartment almost four months ago.

“If you’re in too much pain—oh, look at you,” Gina gasped and stepped back, her light touch skimming down his chest.

His stomach muscles jumped beneath her fingers. He looked down at the minor red scrapings that melded with the faint cuts from the knife.

“My dress did that to you! I am so sorry. I didn’t even think I might be hurting you.”

“You’re hurting me, all right,” he ground out when her fingertips curled into the waistband of his dress pants causing a spike of heat to hit low in his gut. “But it’s a beautiful pain, darlin’.”

That pretty pink blush he’d come to love stained her cheeks. She looked at him, brushing her thumb across his bottom lip. “I want to stay…with you. If you want me.”