Something to Talk About (Plum Orchard #2)

Yes. She loved the caress of his touch along the backs of her thighs, thought maybe it was what she’d always been living for and was now, after all this time, forced to openly admit it.

Fingers, long and thick, glided over her skin, teasing, pushing, easing away, kneading. Over and over until he skimmed the outline of her panties where her hip met thigh.

Em tensed, mewled a small sound she’d never heard come from her mouth before, but Jax muffled it with his lips.

Mercy, his mouth. Soft and hard in the same breath. Commanding, domineering, gentle with just a hint of the taste of the beer he’d had at dinner. More adjectives than her mind could parse—or even cared to.

His fingers slowed, her frustration mounted. She clung to his jacket in fistfuls of leather, afraid to let her hands touch anything else on his body, anything that would encourage him to continue. Yet, wanting—wanting to climb inside him—devour him.

The ripple of his abs beneath her when he reached over with his free hand and turned the key in the ignition to the off position elicited another gasp from her.

Everything about his body screamed in control, powerful. From nowhere, she wondered what a man like Jax would be like out of control. What he’d be like if she did to him what he was doing to her.

Her shiver brought his free arm back around her again, allowing her to burrow closer, bury her nose in his neck. His scent left her weak—it was man and fallen Georgia leaves and some more man and it left heat whooshing through her veins.

Jax tilted her chin up, stroked the flesh of her lower lip, capturing it with his teeth, a new sensation to her, unfamiliar and sexy—a tweak of pain soothed with the rasp of his tongue.

Her manners were all but forgotten—her everything was all but forgotten when Jax wiggled a finger inside the edge of her panties, letting it rest there so she could adjust to the feel of him.

It wasn’t a long adjustment period before Em could no longer stand the wait. She wasn’t prim and proper Emmaline tonight. Tonight she was possessed by some demon—some part of her that was going to take what she wanted no matter the gossip that would surely ensue. No matter the cost to her stellar reputation.

Her hips became someone else’s when she rolled against the hard length of his finger, coaxing Jax, daring him to hurry up and touch her.

Touch her now.

Jax smiled beneath her lips, a slight tilt upward of arrogance maybe, before he stroked downward, spreading her wide, using another finger to tease her, torment the tight bud at her core until her heart tried to push its way out of her chest.

Pricks of fire teased her belly, turning into flames, licking at her, forcing her to push against Jax’s fingers, whimper against his delicious mouth when he did the one last thing she knew would send her over an edge. An edge she was unfamiliar with—unsure of, but one Em dared to teeter on anyway.

His finger slid into her with hot, wet ease—so easily, she gasped, shuddered, saw stars, brilliant splashes of light. She didn’t know what else to do but cling to him, relish his big hands on her, moan when he used his other hand to push up her dress and find her breast.

Jax cupped it, thumbed it through the material of her bra until that agonizing slow burn was stealing bits of her sanity, pushing its way along her veins, screaming to find relief.

He drove deeper, stroking, thrusting in long pulls, while his musky scent filled her nose. All of her senses were on board Train Jax, every single one engaged in ways she hadn’t known existed.

Suddenly, it was too much—too soon—too everything. Her brain said retreat. It was dangerous to want anything this much—to want anyone this much. But her body said “eff your brain, Emmaline Amos” and fell into the dark cauldron of her boiling hormones.

When she fell, it was hard. She rode Jax’s hand, heard his grunt of satisfaction at her slippery descent, pressed so deeply into him, surely the seat would crash through the floorboards of her Jeep.

Everything, his hard thighs under her, his wide chest making her feel small and delicate, his thick fingers thrusting into her, became a heady aphrodisiac. The last roll of her hips, the last bit of air she was able to suck in before she came was a blur.

There was nothing but the sharply sweet victory of total completion when each nerve in her body hummed and the rush of her pulse roared in her ears.

She knew she screamed. Buried her face in Jax’s yummy-smelling neck until she made the snap decision to pretend she did things like this all the time.

Em’s fingers fumbled to reach between them so Jax would know this wasn’t just about her despite how she’d just behaved.

“I don’t think you’re ready for that just yet,” he grumbled in her ear. He wrapped his hand around her wrist and brought it up under his chin, rubbing her skin against the stubble.

“Because you’re too much man for little ole me to handle?” The words growled from her throat, sounding sated and still not like her voice at all.