Something to Talk About (Plum Orchard #2)

Her eyes were so wide—so full of disbelief, he almost laughed. Had no one ever told her how damn hot her lips were? Well, he’d just be the first.

Snap out of it, man. This is not the road that leads to no dating. You have other things to worry about—like Reece. But Em was like kryptonite, and forcing Reece from his mind was easy when he looked at Em’s lips.

She winced, her beautiful features lining with disgust. “You mean my mouth is big, don’t you? You want to shut me up because I talk too much? I do that sometimes. I forget myself. I’m sorry.”

Her apology made him chuckle. Whoever had given Em the impression her enthusiasm, her ability to draw you into what brought her happiness, was annoying, made him want to beat the shit out of them.

Cupping her jaw, he said, “No. I mean your hot mouth is driving me crazy—words and all. I don’t care what’s coming out of them.”

Letting his tongue finally caress the soft flesh of her lower lip, his gut tightened on impact when he glided over the silky surface, tasting, testing.

Christ.

She stiffened beneath his hand, so he eased his grip, caressing the back of her neck, stroking the soft skin until she relaxed. “Is that okay, Em? If I kiss you?”

“Why would you want to kiss someone like me?”

She said it like those lips weren’t amazingly kissable. Fuck. Who’d messed with her head like that? Jax nibbled on the corner of her mouth, smiling against it when she shuddered then leaned into him. Just a little, but enough to signal her body language was adjusting to his touch. “The question here is, who wouldn’t want to kiss you? I can’t imagine watching your mouth move and not wanting to kiss you.”

And then she was softer, her shoulders relaxing in a downward slope. Though her eyes strayed everywhere but his face. “Look at me, Em.” He tried to keep the demand soft, but it was using up what little self-control he had.

Em was just as attracted to him as he was to her. Whatever was holding her back, it wasn’t lack of sparks. He might have been out of the game for a while, but he knew chemistry. “I’m going to kiss you. Question is, do I have your permission or are you going to pretend you don’t really want me to? Because I won’t, if you don’t want me to. Your move,” he coaxed with a grin.

Her lashes lowered to brush her cheeks, thick and full. They were like the fourth or fifth thing on his list of what he liked about her. Right behind the demure but sexy as hell clothes she wore, and her waist. He liked that, too. The way it pinched sharply inward before it sloped into the curve of her hip—hips that swished with an enticing rhythm—and made him smile.

“So, that kiss?”

Jax didn’t wait long after Em gave a slight nod. Pulling her head to his, he inhaled her sigh, breathed in her scent, traced the outline of her lips with his tongue before putting his mouth on hers.

He didn’t move. He just wanted to feel them against his own. Memorize them, taste them. Hot rushes of blood coursed through his veins when Em let him take the lead with a tremble and the surrender of her mouth.

Just this connection, this contact, and Jax was on fire. He had to hold back, control the need he’d been fighting with all night or he was going to scare her off.

But when he felt Em melt into him, reach for more of him by scrunching either side of his jacket in her fists, sigh again into his mouth, that damn predatory streak welled up in his chest. Made him grip the steering wheel with one hand to keep himself in check.

He slanted his mouth over hers, letting his tongue glide into the heat held behind the object of his fixation.

When Em’s fingers clenched his hair, Jax gave up on restraint with a growl and instead focused on getting her closer. His fingers went to the armrest between them, lifting it up, grunting his pleasure when Em helped him, her fingers gripping his forearm.

Then he was pulling her willing body to his, adjusting the setting on his seat, positioning her to straddle his lap.

Em’s arms went around his neck, her lips never leaving his, her soft tongue sliding along his in hot passes designed to make him harder than a rock. With leverage on her side, she wedged herself into his lap, her long legs draping on either side of his hips.

His hands found the small of her back through her winter sweater with the ruffles that framed her face, gliding over the swell of her hip, all the while, his hard-on driving at the seam of his jeans.

“We’re in a car,” she husked out between hungry pulls on his lips.

He silenced her with more hungry drawing, suckling the soft flesh of her bottom lip until she let one of those heady moans escape from her throat, gritty and breathless.

Em pulled away enough to allow words to flow more freely from her mouth. “A car...”