All That Jazz (Butler Cove #1)(57)

“God, Jazz,” he groaned against my mouth. “Slow down. You okay?”

“Fine,” I responded and kissed him again. And suddenly I knew what I needed to fill this empty aching. I was going to do exactly what I’d told my father I was planning. Lose my virginity. And I was doing it right now, with Joey. There was no better time than right now. No other time I needed this more than right this very second.

I pulled my lips off his.

Joey’s cheeks were flushed. Like the sun had kissed the tops of his cheekbones. His blue eyes were like dark denim.

Finally the three shots of vodka I’d had earlier were making their presence felt in the loosening of my inhibitions. My fingers went to the buttons of my shorts, and I crept backward into the berth in the bow of the boat. Sitting on the soft vinyl mattress I shimmied my shorts over my butt and down my legs. I was in my most boring pair of white panties. Typical.

Joey stood still hunched over in the small galley, hands braced either side of him staring at me intently. “What are you doing, Jazz?”

I pursed my lips, I lifted a shoulder. “My shorts were uncomfortable?”

He shook his head.

“Come on over here, Joseph. I won’t bite.”

“I’m not altogether sure about that.” He leaned down and crept forward onto the mattress. “But I’m not sure I’d complain.”

“I think we better stack,” I grinned and held onto his neck, pulling him in on top of me. “Not much room for both of us to have our own space.”

With all of the kissing we’d done, we’d never lain down together, and as our bodies connected, his heavy frame settling between my legs, we both groaned.

I laughed at us and felt his smiling lips on my neck. And I wondered how when I was with Joey, the rest of the world completely melted away. It was remarkable and addictive. And so very necessary.

His mouth found his way back to mine, his weight on his elbows. Within moments the low banked passion in our kisses roared into a hot blaze as our tongues stroked, our hands caressed, and our lower bodies rocked together.

“I love your mouth,” Joey whispered, and his tongue skated down my neck, making me shudder. “And the taste of your skin. You taste of salt and vanilla.”

“That tastes good?”

“Funny. Stop talking.”

“No, wait.”

He lifted his face up, looking down at me. His eyes were heavy. Like he was tired, but the look that glittered under his lids said it was arousal. Not that I had much experience recognizing this expression, but on Joseph it was like there’d never been a time when I didn’t know what it meant. It was so obvious. And damn, it felt so good. The way he looked at me scorched me clear down to my toes.

“What?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said wait.”

I swallowed. “Oh, yeah. I was thinking, with all of this kissing, we’re still at first base.” I watched Joe’s throat bob as he swallowed too. “And I think the run is clear to second.”

Joey expelled a sharp breath. “Thought you’d never ask. Boobs first?”

A giggle erupted out of my throat. “Sure.” I laughed. “Boobs first.”

He shifted his weight to one arm, resting his head on his palm. His free hand came to the buttons of my simple cotton shirt. They made quick work, hastily popping one after the other.

It felt as though my heart may have moved to my throat as I watched the intensity with which Joseph’s gaze tracked his movement. The last button popped free, and his hot hand slid onto the skin of my belly. I pressed my lips together to keep my reaction contained. His skin on mine felt so good.

His fingers trailed up my sternum and parted my shirt to reveal my cotton bra. A small sound accompanied his breath, and I knew he was as caught up as I was. “You’ve always had the most spectacular rack.” Joey smirked. “I’m so glad you’re old enough now I don’t have to feel pervy.”

I smacked his shoulder and he chuckled. “Just saying that is totally pervy,” I said.

He winked and leaned down to kiss me.

Threading my hands into his hair, I deepened the kiss, hiding my quickened breaths.

My insides buzzed.

His hand slid over the fabric of my bra.

My kiss grew deeper and he responded in kind.

Our slow teasing was quickly forgotten, a feverish wave washing over us.

His hand squeezed, his thumb pinching at my nipple, and I gasped loudly into his mouth and arched into his assault. Within seconds his hand slipped under the fabric and I moaned, my mouth pulling away from his as my head fell back. Between my legs, the weight of him rocked against me.

His mouth devoured my neck, my ear, the skin of my chest. His fingers pulled the fabric of my bra until my breasts were free and covered in the heat of his mouth.

The buzzing inside my body had morphed to an aching throb. “Ahhh,” I managed, and my hips bucked against him.

It was moving fast, his mouth hot, his hands moving like he couldn’t get enough and didn’t know what to touch, what to taste.

A hot needy heat pooled between my legs and deep in my gut. I moaned, and strained, and sought more of his mouth, more of his hands.

My own hands roamed his body, squeezing, pulling. I grabbed at his t-shirt, suddenly needing to feel the hot smooth skin of his chest against me.