Straight Up Love (The Boys of Jackson Harbor #2)(58)

What does that mean?

I don’t have much time to analyze the word before he’s tugging me across the intersection, into the hotel, and across the lobby. The second the elevator doors close behind us, I’m pressed against the wall, his mouth on mine. His hands are greedy and seem to be everywhere at once. One is in my hair and the other’s at my hip, tugging at my dress until his fingers splay over my bare thigh. He traces the strap of my thong from the small of my back to under my belly and down between my legs, where I know I’m wet. Does he feel that through the lace? Does he understand that I suck at this? That my body sometimes locks up and that at any moment my pleasure could morph into panic? That my overactive brain could start a destructive spiral and ruin everything?

My worries evaporate at the feel of his knuckles along the fabric between my legs. “Do you want me to touch you here?” The question is a husky whisper against my ear. “Put my mouth on you here?”

I never thought I was into words, but Jake’s are the best kind of foreplay, and I want more. “Yes. Please. I want you. All of you.”

“I’m not going to fuck you tonight, Ava.”

I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and moan as I release it. “Please.” I know I’d never have the courage to speak like this if it weren’t for the drinks. I’m grateful for the buzz making me bold. I need the courage tonight. “I’m begging. You said that’s what you wanted.”

His palm snakes up my dress and flattens against my belly as his fingertips slide into my panties and he cups me. “I like hearing you say that. I like knowing you want me.”

The elevator dings. The door slides open, but neither of us moves.

“Tonight isn’t about anything but you and me. Do you understand what I’m saying? I’m touching you tonight because I want to touch you. I’m going to make you come just because it feels good, and because I’ve had too many fucking fantasies of getting my mouth between your legs to pass it up now.”

I shudder in his arms, faintly aware of the doors sliding closed. “You don’t have to—”

“Fuck have to. Tonight is about want. You hear me?” He shakes his head slowly, studying me. “Anything you want. But no sex. That’s something we both have to wait for.”

I nod my understanding, and part of me is grateful. I want Jake to touch me. I want this to be about us and not about my big plans—and he’s giving me that without me ever asking for it. He knows I need it because he knows me.

He punches the button on the wall, and the doors slide open again.

My legs aren’t much better than noodles beneath me as he leads me out of the elevator, but I somehow make it to our room. He opens the door for me, and before it has the chance to swing closed behind him, I grab a fistful of his shirt. “I want it to be good for you, too.”

“Good.” He grabs my dress in both his fists and yanks it over my head. I don’t have time to feel nervous about him seeing me in my bra and panties because one second he’s tossing my dress onto the floor, and the next he has me pressed against the wall. His hand slides between my legs, rubbing the lace over my clit.

“You’re wet,” he murmurs against my mouth. “So fucking wet.” He kisses his way down my neck and across my collarbone—a symphony of lips and teeth and tongue that signals hunger more than seduction and leaves me feeling desirable in a way I’ve never felt in my life.

He drops his head to my breast and sucks at me through my thin bra. When I cry out, he pulls his head away and pinches my nipple between his finger and thumb. “I’m going to have so much fun discovering all the ways I can make you come,” he murmurs. His mouth trails lower, skimming over my belly, his tongue grazing my navel until he’s on his knees before me with his hands on my ass and his forehead resting against one hipbone.

I slide a hand into his hair. “Jake, you . . .”

His eyes are hot when he tilts his face up to me, and the intensity there makes the words clog in my throat. He shakes his head. “Don’t you fucking dare give me a you don’t have to speech right now. I already told you, tonight is about pleasure, and I want to feel you. I want to taste you. So don’t tell me to stop unless you don’t want this.”

“I want you to . . .” My voice wobbles on the words. “I want to feel your mouth on me.” I’m so nervous about letting the words out that they’re too soft. He holds my gaze for five thunderous beats of my heart, and I think he might not have heard me at all. But in a flash, I see that he did. I see it in his eyes and hear it in the guttural rumble of his groan. He heard every word.

“Fuck yes.” He dips his head to nuzzle me between my legs. He groans, and I feel the vibration of the sound right against where I’m hot and wet. Where I’m aching. His fingers curl under the string of my thong, and my legs shake as I wait for him to pull it off.

Instead, he stands, eyes all over me. “You want this on when my mouth is on you?”

I shake my head.

He steps back. “Then take it off, baby.” His eyes trail over me—the modest swell of my breasts, the flat of my stomach, my thighs. “Let me see you.”

I unhook my bra with shaking hands. I’m already wearing so little that there isn’t much surprise left, but I’m still as nervous as a virgin bride. I want to be everything to Jake. I want to be his fantasy. When I slide the straps down my arms, delicate lace cups fall to the floor, and his nostrils flare.