“Pillow,” she said hastily.
He shoved a pillow beneath her hips, and they both moaned at the deepening of the angle. Their mouths crashed together in a greedy kiss that sent waves of ecstasy thrumming through him. He grabbed her hips and drove in faster, harder, as her head tipped back and she slammed her eyes closed. She gripped his forearms, clinging tightly. He felt her * tightening around his aching cock, and when she cried out—an indiscernible, needful sound—he nearly lost all control. Another deep thrust sent him to the edge. Heat raced down his spine, his balls tightened, and a fiery sensation spread through his body as he exploded inside her, one heated pulse after another. He always had the most powerful orgasms with Laney. Only Laney.
When he finally opened his eyes, hers were closed, and a satiated smile curved her beautiful lips. It was always like this with her—intense and all-consuming and somehow freeing at the same time. He moved onto the mattress beside her and gathered her into his arms. She murmured his name and snuggled in closer. She’d been so upset when she’d arrived, and he wanted to know what had happened. If Bryce had hurt her, Jackson would make him wish he’d never met her. But the truth would have to wait. Her breathing calmed, her body went soft, and she succumbed to the deep sleep of a satisfied lover. Laney was safe. She was with him. And for now that was all that mattered.
Chapter Two
LANEY AWOKE SURROUNDED by Jackson’s familiar masculine scent. She pressed her face into his pillow and inhaled. She’d always loved his scent, and no matter how many times he’d changed his cologne over the years, to Laney he always smelled the same. Safe.
She heard him walking around in the kitchen and closed her eyes with a sigh. It was time to face the music. She knew Jackson was out in the kitchen, trying to put the pieces together in that clever mind of his.
The mattress dipped beside her, and the aroma of coffee replaced the scent of him. She wasn’t ready to open her eyes yet. Couldn’t she just pretend last night never happened? Well, not all of it, just the date part? The sex had been out of this world, like always.
Jackson pushed her hair from her forehead, then ran the backs of his fingers down her cheek. She smiled and opened her eyes to find him watching her with that serious look of his. Narrow eyes, jaw peppered with scruff, the way she liked him best. He wore a blue T-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest and her favorite pair of his jeans, the ones that were faded on the thighs, with a tiny fraying nick at the corner of his left pocket. He already had on his black leather boots. He managed a tight smile, and she knew he was doing all he could not to question her about last night. She sat up and accepted the coffee cup he offered, taking a nice warm drink of heaven.
“Mm. Mocha. Thank you.”
“Happy birthday.”
She closed her eyes for a beat as he pulled the sheet up to cover her breasts.
“Thank you. God, Jackson. How am I thirty already? It feels like just yesterday you and I were going to concerts and heading to the beach over spring break. Where did the time go?”
He shrugged and took a sip of her coffee, then handed it back. “I think you’ve had a pretty damn good life, and there’s no hotter thirty-year-old on the planet, so you’ve got that covered.”
He was being kind. He photographed gorgeous models and actresses every day. She didn’t come close to any of them, but she knew what he saw in her wasn’t just what he saw in those women. He knew her in a way he would never bother to know the women he casually dated, just as she knew him. It was that twining together of their looks, hearts, and souls despite their faults that made them each more beautiful to the other. She had no doubt that if she were disfigured in a nasty accident, Jackson’s love for her wouldn’t change.
“Now, get that fine ass of yours out of bed so we can get on the road. I went by your place and picked up your bags. The truck’s packed, and we’re rolling out of here in forty minutes, naked or not.” He flashed a flirty grin that made her want to pull him right back into bed, which was why she headed for the shower instead.
They’d always kept keys to each other’s places. It was easier than what they’d done as kids—climbing through each other’s windows in the middle of the night. She felt his eyes on her as she walked naked to the bathroom. She was never self-conscious around Jackson the way she was around the guys she dated, but she didn’t want to analyze that too much. They had a great friendship, and the sex was hot every single time. Jackson never demanded anything of her, not a commitment, not details on her life with the guys she dated, not a damn thing, and she liked it that way.
She turned before closing the bathroom door and asked, “What time is it?”
“Eight.” He rose to his feet and headed out of the room.