“Sorry. No filter. As you know. But think about it.”
He stuffs his hands in the pockets of his hoodie. “Yeah, I can see your point. Also I might feel inclined to deck Jack’s smug face. He spent the night debauching my sister while leaving this fucking mess in his wake.” He pulls the folded pages out his pocket, holding them out.
“It’s not his fault, Joey,” I say, taking them. “I know it’s a sore spot for you because she’s your sister. But he’s a good guy. I promise.”
He purses his lips but doesn’t say anything.
I scan through. It’s pretty bad, but it will be old news soon. I just have to convince Keri Ann she can deal with it. “Anyway, I’m sure what they did last night was probably closer to making love than what we did against the entryway wall in your house. If anyone was ‘debauched,’ I was. And by the way, what century are we living in? Debauching? Seriously?” What on earth possesses me to just bring it up like this? I don’t believe myself sometimes.
“Are you done?”
I shrug.
“What we did last night wasn’t debauched. Granted it wasn’t how I imagined it would be when I got to be inside you again.”
My stomach drops at his words. He’s imagined being inside me … again?
“We fucked,” I offer up the explanation as a bizarre means of protection.
He pins me with his blue eyes, then leans down and gets in my face. “It was way more than fucking and you know it.”
I swallow as heat flashes through my veins and my throat constricts. “Actually, I don’t. Besides,” I can’t help adding, “it wasn’t that good for me, anyway.”
Joey sets his arms on either side of me and leans down closer, his face inches from mine. His eyes haven’t left me. “I love how you just say whatever the hell is on your mind. And I love that I’m on your mind.”
“You’re not. At all.” I shake my head.
He smiles. “Liar.”
“Remove yourself from my personal space, Joseph,” I warn.
“I’m planning on getting very, very intimate with your personal space.” He lifts up slightly, a hand coming between us and flicking open the top button of my jeans. “We have an hour, and I intend to use it wisely.”
My hand grabs his. “What the hell are you doing?” I ask and cannot stand that my voice is breathy.
“You quite rightly pointed out my ungentlemanly and thoughtless behavior.” His hands continue working on my buttons, and then he’s curled his fingers over the waistband and is tugging. “I think I should be allowed the opportunity to set things right.”
“I—”
He cuts me off with his mouth on mine, his tongue slipping lazily between my lips.
It’s my weakness. I love his mouth.
My hand lets go of his and reaches up to thread into his hair. Why am I so easy when it comes to Joey? I can’t let him decimate me like he did last night. He kisses me deeply. He kisses me over and over until I’m a gooey mess of memories of our make out sessions.
I’m stuck deeply in nostalgia and arousal. It’s not a healthy mix. “Stop,” I manage on a breath.
Joey blinks like he’s in a fog. I ignore the jig my heart does that he can lose himself in me too. “Jazz,” he whispers. Then he’s picking me up effortlessly and depositing me on the bed. He’s tugging my unbuttoned jeans down my bare legs and over my bare feet. I’m not stopping him. Why am I not stopping him? I’m watching his face, that’s why. I’m seeing his eyes fix on my pale pink underwear. His jaw flexes and his nostrils flare. A lock of his dark blond hair falls across his eyes, and he looks up at me through it. Is he waiting for me to stop him? Because he looks so delicious looking up at me hungrily like that, there’s no way I want him to stop. Plus, my body is burning up from the inside out. He better be able to put me out of my misery.
Biting my lip in case I say something completely idiotic, defensive, or worse beg him to continue, I say nothing and wait for him to move again. I’m not resisting. That should tell him everything.
He unzips his hoodie and shrugs it off. He didn’t even stop to put on a t-shirt this morning. I want to press my face against his skin. Dammit.
Walking over to the sliding glass door, he locks it then pulls the thin curtain across the window, casting us in half light. His intent pours even more fuel onto the fire that’s burning under my skin. I’m so turned on, it doesn’t feel normal.
“My mother’s not here,” I say, my voice catching as I see him start to the bedroom door. I pull my knees up, my feet flat on the bed. “You sure are making a production out of this. It better be good.” My tone belies my quaking need.
He chokes out a laugh and shakes his head as he comes back to the bed. “You know, I think I just adjusted my goal. Not just to make you come but to make you speechless. Give us all a break from your ball busting.”
“Go ahead then.” I lift my head and fold my hands underneath. “Give it your best shot.”