Free All Jacked Up by Lorelei James Page A

the top of her thigh where her hand clenched into a fist. He brushed his mouth across the lilac scented skin below her ear. “My lips are a perfect fit for this spot, right here.”
    She arched into him slightly.
    “I could spend an hour touching you with my mouth and my hands.”
    “Over my clothes?”
    “To start. Then I’d unbutton your shirt, kissing each section of skin as I bared it. I’d look my fill. I’d taste my fill.”
    “And then?”
    Jack’s lips skimmed the hollow of her throat. “And then whatever you want, Keely, just name it.”
    “What is this proving?” she asked breathlessly.
    “Nothing. I’m conditioning you to my touch, remember?”
    “So this is just a game?”
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    “Yes.” Jack let his heated breath follow the sexy curvature of her jaw. “And no. Getting you comfortable with my touch is a means to an end, but the process isn’t a hardship. Not at all.” Hadn’t the woman noticed his cock straining against his zipper?
    Keely’s breath caught when he tugged on her earlobe with his teeth.
    He smiled against her cheek, figuring he’d won her over. “Am I proving myself?”
    “No.”
    “Why not?” Jarred by her response, he stilled. If he hadn’t persuaded her, then why was her voice unsteady? Why was her breath choppy?
    “Because you’re not the type of man to take it slow or give me a play by play.”
    “And you know me so well?” he murmured with a trace of humor.
    “Well enough to know I prefer the zero to four second response time you have, whether it’s in anger or with lust. That’s honest. This calculated seduction is not.” Keely extracted herself from him and stood.
    She reached for her beer. “Maybe it would be better if we just watched TV.”

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Chapter Six
    That sneaky bastard.
    Keely turned, blocking Jack’s view as she pressed the bottle of beer to her lips and drained it.
    Damn. Her entire body—blood, muscles, tissues, bones—felt as if he’d zapped her with a cattle prod.
    Wobbly knees, dry throat, rapid heartbeat, damp panties, haywire responses from a simple touch? Damn embarrassing. Jack had stroked, whispered and teased until she was mere seconds from mounting him.
    She’d enjoyed plenty of lovers. Men who’d rocked her world in bed. But she’d never experienced such a visceral reaction to a man’s heated touch and the soothing cadence of a deep voice drifting across her skin.
    “Keely? You okay?”
    She jumped. Damn him. She would not be a freakin’ wreck of hormones in her own space. “You want another beer?”
    “You having one?”
    I’m having two. “Yep.”
    “Then I’ll take one. Since I bought them.”
    Keely booked it to the kitchen. She took her time uncapping the beer bottles, stalling really. But she needn’t have bothered; Jack was yakking on his cell phone when she returned. She sat across from him, propped her booted feet on the coffee table and studied him.
    Jack Donohue was a total contradiction. Polished, yet rugged. Confident, yet not overtly cocky.
    Professional, yet an air of wildness surrounded him. Down to earth, as well as aloof. Smokin’ hot, yet ice cold.
    Who was he?
    Will the real Jack Donohue please stand up?
    Although Jack wasn’t talking to her, she sensed his intense focus on her, totally on her. She couldn’t drop her guard around him for a single second. Screw the conditioning exercises. She’d never get accustomed to the way Jack made her feel.
    “I shouldn’t have to handle it. Because it’s not in my job description, nor is it in my contract. Yes, I’m sure. And for the record, I was against hiring them in the first place. No. This is not an ‘I told you so’
    moment, George. What am I supposed to do about it from here? You’re there, I’m not. Handle it. You’re the GC. No. Because I can’t right now.”

    All Jacked Up
    Jack stopped and stared at her.
    It wasn’t a cool look. Oh no. The molten look in