A snort of disbelief escaped him. “Right. Like that’s ever going to happen. Sorry, Candy Cane, but I’m not the type to jump if you start issuing orders.”
Stubborn ass. He wasn’t lying, but then, she already knew ways to make him burn. “You expect to call all the shots? Like that’s ever going to happen,” she echoed his words. “Or, maybe in the bedroom. If you’re any good.”
That intense heat was back in his eyes. Nuclear destruction in three, two, one…
“Am I any good in the bedroom? I don’t know, Pepper. You tell me. Am I a decent kisser?” He paused, just long enough for her to remember the devastation his lips had caused. “Now imagine my mouth all over your body. On the curve of your neck, on your breasts. Dropping over the smooth slope of your belly until I’m between your legs, kissing you until you can’t breathe without gasping my name.”
A whimper snuck out before she could stop it.
He cupped her face again, stroking his thumb over her cheek. “Stop driving us both mad and get in the house. I’ll give you a call tomorrow.”
Pepper didn’t tease for another kiss because she didn’t think she could take it, not without changing her mind and begging him to change his. She got out of the car and headed to the house.
All the time intensely aware that Jack was watching her.
Chapter Six
Between the Wilson house and the stop sign at the end of the street, Jack almost pulled a screeching U-turn five times to hightail it back to Pepper. He’d never been more primed for sex, so hard his cock felt like it was going to explode. He was actually afraid to work the clutch with his foot because even the slightest friction might trigger a spontaneous orgasm.
Holy hell, kissing Pepper had been sheer heaven. Her eager tongue dueling with his, her delicate fingers clutching his collar. He shuddered, trying valiantly to ignore the tingling at the tip of his cock. Sweet Jesus. He really was at risk of coming in his pants.
But despite his aching groin, he still couldn’t stop the parade of wicked images that blasted through his head.
Pepper naked.
Pepper moaning.
Pepper screaming his name after he’d made her come.
Christ, she’d responded so eagerly to his kiss. Didn’t surprise him, either. Pepper always dived headfirst into any situation, and that attitude apparently included hot make-out sessions.
He couldn’t wait to get her in bed.
Couldn’t. Frickin’. Wait.
But not until he spoke to Parker. There was no turning back—Jack would have her no matter what Parker said—but he respected his friend enough to give him the heads-up and a few reassurances.
And seeing as how the only thing waiting for him at home was an empty bed, he figured he might as well get The Talk over with.
Decision made, Jack sped out of the Wilsons’ residential neighborhood and headed for Parker and Lynn’s apartment in North Beach. Parker wouldn’t be thrilled with Jack showing up unannounced on a Friday night, but screw it. Jack was nothing if not impulsive, and when he set his mind on something, he didn’t like waiting around for things to happen. He made them happen.
There wasn’t a single parking space on Parker’s street, so he was forced to park two blocks away, and the short jog to his friend’s apartment didn’t ease the discomfort in his body’s southern region. The humid night air slid over him like a seductive caress, reminding him of Pepper’s hot, sexy mouth moving over his.
Once he’d punched the intercom button on the stoop of Parker’s building and waited for a response, he mentally recited the names of every American president in an attempt to rid himself of his massive erection. He’d just reached Ulysses S. Grant when the intercom finally crackled to life.
“Who the hell is it?” Parker’s voice was thick with annoyance.
Jack hit the button. “It’s me. Let me up.”
“Jack? What the fuck, man? I’m busy.”
“Five minutes, bro. I just need five minutes.”
After an impossibly long silence, the front door buzzed loudly. Jack dashed through it and rode the elevator up to the fourth floor.
When the door to Parker and Lynn’s apartment swung open, it was easy to figure out what Jack’s buddy had been “busy” doing. Bare-chested and scowling, Parker raked a hand through his mussed-up hair and cursed in disbelief.
“This better be important,” he said in a warning tone.
“It is.” Jack brushed past his friend, then halted when he poked his head in the living room and spotted Lynn.
She looked equally rumpled, long dark hair tousled as she straightened the hem of her oversized T-shirt. Parker’s shirt, clearly. And it was inside out.
“Hey, Jack.” She greeted him with a sheepish smile and a rosy blush on her cheeks.