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  He knew this wasn’t the best idea in the world, that he should be going about a more cold-blooded seduction, should be deliberately driving her out of her mind while keeping a firm lid on his own emotions. But like a rock tossed into a well, he sank without a trace. Her lips were soft and sweet, her mouth was hot and tasted of coffee and Treena and red-hot desire, and he couldn’t get enough—not nearly enough. Without breaking the kiss, he strode over to the couch and dropped down upon it, his long, tall dancer a warm welcome weight in his lap.

  They kissed for minutes, for hours, for God alone knew how long. Eventually he lifted his head and gazed down at her. “Man,” he said. “You do something to me.” And that was the X factor in his game plan, the contingency he’d hadn’t planned on.

  “Tell me about it,” she agreed with a breathless little laugh. “You do something to me, too.” Then, hooking her hand around the nape of his neck, she tugged his head back down so she could kiss him once again.

  He took it like a man, went without a fight, his right palm spreading over her throat, his thumb and fingers grasping her jaw while he widened his mouth over hers. Tongue slid against tongue and they both groaned.

  Treena felt herself losing control and tried to grab hold of it before it escaped completely. The only trouble was Jax could kiss like no one she’d ever met. Minutes passed and every so often a neuron would suddenly fire off in her brain, reminding her to rein it all in. Yet she’d immediately be lost once again beneath the sensations bombarding her from every angle.

  When his hand trailed down her throat and onto her chest, she returned to her senses. She didn’t so much stiffen as collect herself from her complete sprawl across his lap, but her compacted position halted the downward trek of his fingers.

  It didn’t, however, stop his talented lips from pressing and rubbing against her own, nor his supple tongue, which flicked across hers in a teasing foray that was boldly dominant then infuriatingly elusive. With a frustrated moan, she grabbed his head and held him in place as she locked her mouth on his.

  So involved was she that she barely noticed his hand as it moved to cover the thrust of her breast until he pinched her nipple between his thumb and index finger.

  She inhaled sharply as lightning speared from the point of contact to nerves deep between her thighs. But before she could decide whether it was the best feeling in the world or perhaps the scariest, his hand was gone, his fingertips lightly tracing the outline of her sports bra.

  He raised his head and gazed down at her. “You’ve got the silkiest skin,” he murmured, giving her a sleepy smile. Hooking his fingers around one of the garment’s straps, he slid it off her shoulder. “Your body is so fit and hard, but your skin is soft. Incredibly soft. Incredibly smooth.” Bending his head, he gently bit the flesh he’d just exposed. “I want to touch every square inch of it.”

  Oddly enough, Treena thought that was beginning to sound like a really good idea.

  Jax had slow hands, and he didn’t seem to suffer from the usual need to push them straight up her blouse or down her pants. She knew he was aroused, for she could hear the harsh rasp of his breathing, feel the hard prod of his erection nudging her hip where it curved into his lap. But he continued to alternately nip at her shoulder, then lick the tiny indentations he created there.

  He took his time with the process, too, interrupting himself only to press kisses up and down her throat. And where his lips weren’t, his hands were. His fingers brushed down her arms, along her neck, across her collarbone. Occasionally they wandered onto the washed-out aqua lycra covering her breasts, but always they steered clear of actually touching her nipples again.

  Until Treena reached the point where she could concentrate on nothing else. Wriggling on his lap, she grabbed a fistful of his sun-streaked brown hair and guided his mouth back to hers. The next time his hand encroached upon her sports bra, she turned into his touch, nudging her breast into his palm.

  Yes! Triumph detonated in Jax’s chest, and he smiled against Treena’s lips. God, he’d never worked so hard for a woman’s response in his life—let alone felt such appreciation upon finally getting it. He’d felt her withdraw earlier when he’d slid his hand onto her tit, and he’d backed off, determined to demonstrate a little finesse.

  Only he’d found himself caught in a web of his own making.

  Part of him wanted nothing more than to strip her bare, to bury himself deep inside of her and satisfy his burning need to get off once and for all. But the rest of him really enjoyed stroking her, feeling the plush satin of her skin beneath his hands, the light wash of goose bumps that rose in the wake of his fingertips when he touched a particularly responsive area.

  He couldn’t decide who this woman was. Was she the hot-blooded good-time girl who’d given as good as she’d got upon the hood of her car and who came close to letting him go the distance on the first full day of their acquaintance? Or was she the leerier, more cautious woman of today?

  For a while, that evening in the parking garage, she’d been as hot as he had been—he didn’t doubt that for a minute. But she’d broken it off all the same, and he realized she’d displayed some of the same confusion and wariness she was exhibiting today.

  He didn’t have time to figure it out now, for up until this point his brain had been keeping pace with his hard-on for control of his body, and perhaps logic had even been winning.

  Suddenly, though, all thought was being left in the dust.

  If Treena was acting he didn’t care. The breathy moans of surprise she made when he pinched her nipple between his fingers went straight to his cock. It, in turn, pushed insistently against the solid curve of her hip, shifting and prodding her as if wondering where the hell the entrance to paradise had gone.

  Her old aqua sports bra had to go, and he slid both thumbs beneath its abbreviated hem and pushed it up over her breasts. He half thought she might stiffen up on him again, but he was the one who froze when he saw the pale curves he’d uncovered.

  They were just as he remembered them from the night he’d stared holes down the neckline of her sexy black-and-gold dress. Only this time he got to see them in their entirety, and they were all gently rounded and creamy, her nipples the color of warm cinnamon, hard and tight and pointed straight at him.

  It was Treena who crossed her hands over her chest and peeled the garment off over her head.

  “God,” he said, and his voice sounded as if it had been shredded with a cheese grater. “They’re even prettier than I imagined.”

  Her mouth quirked up on one side. “Yeah, why is it tits are such a magnet for men? Even the two gay guys in our troupe comment on them.”

  “It’s because we don’t have any.” His fingers stole along her diaphragm to cup the underside of her left breast. “If we did, we probably wouldn’t get a damn thing done for messing with them all day long. They’re just so aesthetically pleasing.” He gave her breast a slight shake, then sighed in pure pleasure at the resultant jiggle. “Action and reaction,” he muttered, then looked up at her with a sheepish smile. “This has got to be the most rewarding reaction of all.”

  Her eyes had started drifting shut, but she widened them for a moment. “Careful. I just got a glimpse of that geek factor you warned me about. I mean, please, action and reaction? It’s a boob. It’s got jiggle.” She flashed him a smile. “Still. The reaction’s not too shabby from this side of the road, either.”

  “Yeah? Let’s give that a closer study.” He bent his head, but on his way from her chest to the spiky little nipples calling his name he got sidetracked. “Hey, you’ve got two, four, six, seven freckles,” he said counting the tiny specks sprinkled across her modest cleavage like a curmudgeonly serving of vanilla bean in ice cream.

  “What is it with you and freckles? That’s the second time today you’ve commented on them. Are you a fetishist or something?”

  “I never thought so.” He grinned up at her. “But it’s like stumbling across sudden treasure, so mayb
e I am.” He leered at her. “Show me a freckle, and I’ll show you uncontrollable lust.”

  “Ooh.” She wiggled against his hard-on.

  He drew in a sharp breath. “Okay, that does it. No more Mr. Nice Guy.” He pushed up her breast, lowered his head and locked his lips over her nipple. It poked his tongue, and he pressed it toward the roof of his mouth and sucked.

  “Oh, my gaaaw—” Her head dropped back, which shoved her breast deeper into his mouth. He licked, and she inhaled sharply. He blew against her damp nipple, and she shivered. He sucked, and she went insane.

  The latter reaction was his favorite. He liked her panting and blurry eyed, and he forgot all about his own need for release as he set about seeing just how far he could tease her before she fell off the end of the earth.

  He released her breast, pleased when she promptly placed her own hand beneath it and lifted it to his mouth. Her other hand speared through his hair.

  He smoothed his freed fingers down her diaphragm, over the smooth skin of her abdomen, down to explore the deep dimple of her navel, lower still to tease beneath the waistband of her cutoffs, which rode the swell of her hips. His erection beat time to the “Hallelujah Chorus” when her legs fell apart.

  This position wasn’t working, though, and he eased her off his lap and onto her back on the couch, turning to lie on his side beside her. She blinked up at him and, propping his head in his hand, he smiled at her flushed cheeks, slumberous eyes and swollen mouth. “You comfy? That was getting a little awkward.” Without awaiting an answer, he lowered his head and kissed her again.

  She moaned softly and ran her hand down his chest. Fingers plucking at the fabric of his T-shirt, she made a dissatisfied sound and disengaged her mouth. “No fair. I’m topless and you should be, too.”

  He wrestled his arms out of the shirt and pulled it off. It was still covering his face when her hand spread against the bare swell of his pectorals. Then he felt her shift, and a moment later her mouth replaced her fingers. He yanked the enveloping folds of the shirt over his head.

  It felt so good, but fearing for his control, he sank his hands into her hair and, wrapping the soft curls around his fists, pulled back until her lips left his chest and she looked up at him. “I’ve been thinking about this from practically the minute we met,” he admitted. “And we don’t want it to be over before it even begins.” Exerting force to bring her face closer, he bent his head to reach her lips, but it was a futile attempt, for they were no longer on an equitable level.

  She laughed and scooted up, her breasts rubbing against his diaphragm before flattening against his chest. Curving her long, strong arms around his neck, she kissed him.

  And just like that, heat flared between them again, burning even hotter than before.

  He tightened his fist in her hair and kissed her more roughly, reached deeper with his tongue in a bid to lick up every single flavor. Need rode him hard, and he swept his other hand down to her breast, then ripped his mouth free an instant later and, disentangling her arms from around his neck, he slipped down the couch to replace his kneading fingers with his lips. His freed hand insinuated itself between her legs, and he curved his fingers and pressed his palm against her mound.

  “Oh, God, Jax.” Treena’s hips bucked into his touch. She slicked her hands across the width of his shoulders, squeezing the rounded muscles where they flowed into his arms when he rubbed the seam that ran between her thighs. He took his hand away, and with a shaky little exhalation she smoothed her hands over his chest.

  But he wasn’t finished, not by a long shot. Releasing her nipple, he turned his head to watch himself unbutton her cutoffs and pull down the zipper. The low-cut jeans immediately sagged open, the two sides falling apart to display lacy purple panties. He eased his fingers beneath the scalloped waistband and watched his hand disappear. His fingertips slid over a small, silky V of hair, then glided between plump lips of baby-smooth skin that was slick with desire. A sound suspiciously close to a growl escaped his throat, and he kept pushing downward until his middle finger found the opening it sought and entered her.

  “Oh!” She reached for his zipper, as well, but between his finger striving for her G-spot and his palm flattening over the slippery pearl of her clit, she kept fumbling the task. She continued to clamp the small golden tab between her fingers even as it became evident her impending orgasm rendered her unable to recall what it was she was supposed to do with it once she had it in her grasp.

  He could wait. Barely, it was true, but still, he could do it. He wanted her to come first; then, like the Marines, he was going in. The mobility of his hand was restricted by her cutoffs, but her arched back thrust her breasts ceiling-ward, and he hunched over to lap one stiff, straining nipple.

  And that did it for her. She was amazingly tight around the single finger he’d buried in her, and the hot satin vise snugged around it clamped against his forefinger’s breadth over and over again as low, breathy wails stuttered out of her throat.

  “That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispered, looking up at the pure bliss on her face. He scraped his teeth over her nipple and felt another, harder contraction tug at his finger. “That’s it. Come for me. Ah, Treena, yes! God almighty, that’s a thing of beauty.”

  She collapsed a moment later, all the tension that had arched her body like a hard-strung bow fully released. He felt amazingly great for someone with a raging hard-on who hadn’t got his, but there was just something so satisfying about having gotten her off. Or—perhaps more specifically—having watched and felt her getting off. Besides, his time had come.

  He eased his finger from her body and his hand from her pants and stretched to kiss her, smiling against her lips at the laziness of the kiss she returned. When the girl came, it clearly depleted every store of energy she had. Reaching one-handedly into his hip pocket, he extracted his wallet and fumbled out the condom he’d been carrying in it ever since he’d met her. “You okay?” he whispered, removing her hand from where it rested limply against his fly.

  She blinked. “Um-hmm.” But she didn’t move, merely blinked some more. “I don’t seem to have any bones in my body.”

  He laughed. “Take your time. I’m not planning to start without you.”

  Her eyes widened and her gaze flashed downward to where his erection pressed against her hip. “Really?” She seemed surprised by that, and as if not quite trusting the veracity of his words, she struggled to get all her limbs moving at the same time. “Oh, man.” She fumbled the condom from his fingers. “Here. Lemme give you a hand with that. Get this show on the road.” She reached for him.

  Jax intercepted her hand. “Whoa. Slow down. There’s no rush.”

  She looked confused and he studied her, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. She acted as if this was some huge new marvel she’d never experienced, and damned if it didn’t feel new to him, too. How did she get him so mixed up, he barely knew up from down?

  Not that this was the time to think about it. That became crystal clear when Treena brushed her hand against his erection. He jerked, his dick suddenly insistent as her fingers stroked his erection once again. The lady was clearly in the mood for action.

  He lowered his head again to give her a let’s-kick-this-up-a-notch kiss.

  Things were just beginning to heat up nicely once more when the phone rang. Treena’s lips stilled beneath his for an instant, then she relaxed against him. Looping one arm around his neck, she unzipped his fly with her free hand and reached into his pants. He sucked in a fierce breath at the feel of her hand wrapping around him.

  The phone stopped ringing and the machine kicked on. Treena’s message murmured in the background. Then Carly’s frantic voice interrupted his mindless haze of pleasure.

  “Oh, shit, oh, shit, you’re not there. I cut myself washing dishes, and oh, God, Treen, it’s bleeding like crazy and I can see the bone.”

  The next thing he knew Treena’s hand was gone, his ass was kissing the hardwood flo
or, and she was bounding off the couch, leaping over his prone body. She hit the floor running, one hand clutching her sagging cutoffs as, swearing like a trucker, she sprinted for the phone.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  BY THE TIME Treena snagged a nurse who had paused at the E.R. desk to make a notation on a chart, the sun was definitely headed for the horizon. “Excuse me,” she said to the woman. “Can you give me some idea when they’re going to get Carly Jacobsen in? She’s been waiting for over two hours.”

  “Sorry, miss, it’s been a busy evening. We triage for most life-threatening traumas first.”

  “But she cut herself to the bone. She’s bleeding!”

  “Let me see.” The nurse came around the desk and followed her over to where Carly and Jax sat waiting. Squatting in front of the injured woman, she gently peeled back the cloth Carly had pressed to her wound. “Oh, boy. Washing a glass, were you?”

  “Yes. How did you know?”

  “We see a lot of these.” She covered it back up and rose to her feet. “But you’ve stopped the bleeding yourself, so I’m afraid you’ll just have to wait to have it stitched up until a room is clear. There’s been a turf war and the cops brought us several gangbangers who are also bleeding. Only their wounds were caused by knife and gunshot wounds.” She gave Carly’s arm a little pat and turned on her rubber-soled heel and strode away.

  “I’m sorry,” Treena said, looking at her friend, who had tipped her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. She reclaimed her seat beside her.

  “It’s okay, Treen. She’s right. This may be a big deal to me, but it’s hardly in the same category as a gunshot wound.”

  “Does it hurt?”

  “No, it’s kind of numb right now. I’m just hoping they get me in before the numbness wears off.”

  “They will,” Jax assured her, speaking for the first time in quite a while from the other side of Treena.

  She turned to him gratefully. “See. So says a guy who’s probably been in hospitals all over the world.”