“Say that again?”
My eyes squeezed shut. The courage I’d scraped together to say it once had nearly wiped out my reserves, but I summoned just a smidge more. “Do you want to stay the night?”
“Yes.”
My eyes flew open as I looked up at him, astonished. “Really?”
“Yes, but I’m not going to.”
“Oh.” I wanted to crawl under the couch cushions and hide. “Okay.”
“We need to talk about a few things first.” He angled his body on the sofa, turning my way. When I didn’t move or look away from my lap, he put his hands on my shoulders, gently twisting them sideways.
I still didn’t budge.
“Work with me here, babe.”
No one had ever called me babe before, and I always thought men used it when they couldn’t remember a woman’s name.
“I don’t know if I like being called babe.”
Jackson laughed. “Then I’ll think of something else. Now will you spin this way and look at me? Please?”
I sighed and turned, reluctantly lifting my eyes to meet his.
“You’re the best kiss I’ve had in my life.”
Me? I was a good kisser? “No way.”
“Yes, way. And that tells me that everything else we do is going to be off the charts. But I messed up your first kiss. I’m not going to mess up the rest. If I stay tonight, I doubt I’ll keep my hands to myself.”
There was so much running through my mind it nearly exploded. So I began processing his speech one piece at a time, starting at the beginning.
I was a good kisser? I was a good kisser. No, the best. My inner diva was about the size of a gummy bear, but she was standing tall tonight, giving me a burst of confidence.
My fingertips left my lap to trail up his jean-covered thigh. “What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?”
“Willa,” he groaned, the sound part torture, part pleasure. Before my fingers could get too far, his hand slapped down on mine. “Stop.”
I’d finally had the nerve to make a move and I’d been rejected. My gaze dropped, assessing the couch cushion again as a hiding spot.
“Hey.” Jackson’s hand came to my chin, tipping it back. “Can we just talk this through for a sec?”
I nodded. “All right.”
“I’m not going to lie to you.” He blew out a long breath. “I’m . . . nervous.”
“Nervous?” Why would he be nervous? It’s not like he hadn’t had sex before. “Why?”
“I really don’t want to fuck this up. You know? Your first,” he gulped, “time. It should be special. Not me fucking you on the couch after dinner.”
His confession, albeit crude, melted my heart. I loved that he cared to make sure I was comfortable. I loved that he was putting my feelings above his own needs.
I cupped his cheek with my palm. “Thank you.”
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Why’d you wait?”
I dropped my hand, then looked to my lap, unable to look him in the face as I spoke. “It wasn’t like it was something I planned. My virginity has never been sacred to me. Sex just . . . never happened. I didn’t date in high school. I went out a couple of times in college, but the guys, they just weren’t right.”
I didn’t get into Leighton’s story—that was hers alone to share. But it had definitely impacted my own choices when it came to sex and men.
“I was never so concerned with being a virgin that I felt the need to seek out someone to take it,” I admitted. “I guess I just always assumed that when the time was right, the time was right.”
“And is tonight that right time?”
Was it? Yes, I wanted to be with Jackson. But I could use a few more dates and some time with Jackson to work out my nerves. Was I ready yet? Now? “No.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t care?”
“Look at me,” he ordered, gently forcing my gaze to his. “You drive the boat. How fast or slow we go is up to you. Okay, Captain?”
I smiled. “Okay. As long as you promise never to call me Captain again.”
“I can do that.”
I sighed. “Can we at least make out or something? I feel like I’ve been waiting my entire life to kiss you, and now that I can, it’s all I want to do.”
The words came out of my mouth so fast, my brain didn’t have time to stop them. But once my ears heard it all, I definitely wanted to hide under the couch cushion.
I was begging for a kiss. Begging. Golly gee, Willa. Be bold, not desperate.
My hands came to my face, hiding my hot cheeks. “I can’t believe I said that.”
Jackson chuckled and tugged my hands away. Then his mouth slowly descended toward mine. “We’re definitely doing something, cupcake.”
I grimaced. “No on cupcake.”
He chuckled. With his lips so close, the vibration skimmed my cheek. “Sugar?” He kissed the corner of my mouth.
My eyelids drifted closed as I whispered, “No.”
“Sweetness?” Another kiss, this time to the other corner of my lips.
“No.” I wasn’t a donut.
Jackson’s soft lips trailed up my cheek, leaving tingles as they went to my ear. “Darling?”
“Uh-uh.”
He sucked my earlobe into his mouth and I went limp, falling forward into his chest. Who knew his tongue in my ear would be such a turn on?
“More.” My hands went to his chest, pressing into the cotton of his gray button-down shirt.
His lips followed their trail backward toward my mouth. His smooth jaw was hot and hard against my cheek, and even without his normal stubble, it left a burn.
“Dear? Honey?”
“Dad calls Mom dear. He calls me honey.”
Jackson growled, taking his lips away from my face and ducking down to attach them at my collarbone.
I sagged into the back of the couch, completely dazed that he found all these new spots to make me melt.
“Princess?” he murmured against my neck.
My head lulled to the side. “That’s for little girls with pigtails.”
“Boo?”
“Absolutely not,” I breathed. “Keep going.” My hands went to the back of his head, his short hair soft against my palms as I pulled him closer.
His tongue came out, licking as his lips peppered kisses across my neck. “Doll?”
“Uh-uh.”
Another peppered kiss. “Cookie?”
I shook my head, inching my butt across the couch to get closer.
Straddle him. Now was the time for straddling.
My fingers left his chest and came to my skirt. I gathered the hem in my fists, dragging it up my thighs.
To my surprise, Jackson’s hands came down to help. His calloused fingers skimmed the sensitive skin of my legs, sending my heart into overdrive. The minute my knees were no longer constricted by the hem, I spread them apart.
In my haste, I pulled too hard and a small ripping noise came from the slit now bunched by my rear. That didn’t stop me. This was my most expensive dress, but I’d have Mom mend it later.
My hands shoved at Jackson’s brawny shoulders, sending him back into the couch, as I climbed onto his lap.
The second my core settled against the rough denim of his jeans, I let out a soft moan. His erection was sizeable beneath his zipper, beneath me, and it made my mouth go dry again. I was dizzy and hot and the tension coiling in my center was making me squirm.
It. Was. Incredible.
Riding Jackson’s lap was unlike anything I’d ever felt before. A couple of times, I’d experimented with things down below. After some girlfriends in college had tried to explain what an orgasm felt like, I’d gotten curious and touched myself in the shower.
But my fingers hadn’t built me up like this. Having Jackson’s mouth on my neck, his hardness rubbing against my lace panties, was so erotic I was trembling.
“Fuck, Willa,” he said into my neck before pulling back. His hands came to my face, pushing away the locks of hair that had escaped the clip in the back. “You’re perfect.”
I smiled, then leaned in and kissed him softly.
It didn’t stay sweet for long. Jackson’s fingers dug into my hair, angling my head the way he wanted so his tongue could explore every corner of my mouth.