Free Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) by Jennifer Saints Page A

tingled all the way to her toes;
they curled.
    “ Nan, about
earlier—“
    “ No. Let me say
something.” She turned to him, angling her neck to see him. “I
didn’t mean to hurt you when I walked out of Salty’s.”
    Jackson shrugged. The yellow glare of
a street lamp, barely muted by the eaves of her porch, cast a
revealing light upon the square lines of his stubble-rough jaw and
lean face. He frowned, his eyes intense. “I was out of line about
you baiting your hook tonight.”
    Nan pressed her finger to his full
lips, closing her eyes at the pleasure tingling through her. “What
I think is that we both want different things in life. You can’t
deny that.”
    “ No,” he said, grabbing
her hand and pulling her toward him. “But neither can I deny
this.”
    Jackson was like the storm, all wild,
knock-you-off-your-feet power. His mouth closed over hers with hot,
liquid passion. He did nothing more than cradle the nape of her
neck with his hands, bury his fingers into her hair, and kiss her
deeply. Yet, her heart pounded with dizzying force and a flood of
aching desire pooled in her center.
    After one long, soul-wrenching kiss,
he groaned, and kissed her again. Varying his need, he nipped
lightly at the corners of her mouth, tasted the tender flesh of her
bottom lip, and then dipped deeply into her mouth again.
    Drawn beyond the safety of her common
sense, Nan demanded more from him. She leaned into him, wrapped her
arms around his neck, and pulled her body close to his. His coat
gaped open, and her satin-draped cleavage brushed his chest. He
pulled her closer, close enough to feel the hard ripples of his
chest against her aching breasts. Close enough to feel his muscled
thighs against her legs. He answered her demand with one of his
own, then leaned back against the door and urged her closer
still.
    She didn’t hesitate to follow. As
months of longing broke loose, she pressed tightly against the
growing ridge of his arousal. He growled deep in his throat, slid
his hands down her back, and cupped her bottom, lifting her up and
pulling her hard against his sex. The hem of her short dress
bunched and the rough material of his jeans rubbed her thighs. From
the breath of air against her bottom she knew that only her lace
underwear separated the bare flesh of his hands from her most
intimate parts. Still she didn’t care. She wanted nothing between
them.
    Jackson pulled his mouth from hers,
breathing hard. “Damn, Lady, I still want to make love to you,” he
said softly. “That’s something I can’t seem to walk away from.” He
set her back on her feet, slowly easing his hands from beneath her
dress to rest on her shoulders. His blue eyes were so dark with
desire; they were blacker than the night, and more electric than a
crack of lightning.
    “ We went through this
before, Jack. I can’t—”
    He stopped her denial with a gentle,
firm kiss. “Don’t say anything. Think about it again. Just you and
me together. No strings. We’ll get it out of our system and move
on.”
    He opened her door. She stepped
inside, still stunned by his kiss and the depth of her want for
him. Instead of dying out over their months apart, desire had
mushroomed, grown larger, more needy. What was she going to
do?
    “ I’ll come by and take you
to get your car tomorrow.”
    “ Thanks, but you don’t
know what you’re offering. I’m working the early shift, and from
what I remember, you don’t do morning. I’ll just catch a
cab.”
    Jackson frowned. “I do mornings,
sugar. In fact, I’m very good at mornings.”
    She tingled at his words, but started
to protest. He staved off her reply by brushing her lips lightly
with his thumb. Automatically her tongue slid out to taste his
warm, slightly salty skin. He pressed his finger to her tongue,
lingered in its moistness a moment, then slipped his thumb to his
own mouth.
    Nan watched his tongue lick the same
spot she had. Watched his pleasure in tasting her where she had
tasted