Free Dinner at Eight-epub by Jess Dee Page B

a protective shield. “Everyone will see.”
    “Easy fix.” Jared stepped back a few paces, taking her with him. He stopped with his back against one of the cupboards. She stopped a step away.
    “Hard to kiss you when you’re so far.” Fuck knew he ached to feel the press of those luscious lips against his.
    She breathed his name as she narrowed the gap. Her hand trembled.
    “Don’t be scared,” he whispered, his gaze zeroing in on her mouth. “You never have to be scared with me.”
    But Ava’s fear was palpable. And visible. He saw it in the tiny wrinkles at the sides of her eyes, and in the creasing of her forehead as her gaze narrowed. He heard it in the slight wheeze in her breath.
    “I’ll stop anytime you want.” Jared waited, giving Ava the chance to pull away. He made no move, in case she freaked out again. The last thing he wanted, ever, was for Ava to be frightened. “You ready for this, baby?”
    She looked at him with those big, green eyes and flushed cheeks and nodded once.
    Jared expelled a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. “Then kiss me.”
    Slowly, so slowly, Ava lifted up on tiptoes and inched her face toward his.
    Jared didn’t move a muscle.
    She placed the tongs against his chest, much like she would have placed her hand there, if it were empty. Her lips were parted, her pink tongue moistening her lower lip.
    “Kiss me,” he whispered again, his heart hammering in anticipation.
    She pushed up higher on her toes, and, realizing he had no choice, Jared dipped his head.
    Ava touched her lips to his, letting them linger for a few seconds.
    He exhaled on a soft moan, his eyes closing.
    She deepened the kiss, this time fitting her mouth against his, her lips clinging enticingly.
    Desperate to hold her, to pull her in, Jared jammed his free hand in his back pocket. There wasn’t a chance in hell he was messing up this moment with an unexpected—and unappreciated—touch.
    Ava moaned this time, and as she did, she parted her lips.
    It was all Jared could do not to thrust his tongue between them. If she wished to deepen the kiss—and he prayed she would—she had to take the plunge.
    Hesitantly, she touched his lips with the tip of her warm, moist tongue.
    He opened his mouth. Not wide, just enough for her to explore further. Ava rewarded him for his patience, sliding her tongue between the seam of his lips.
    Blood rushed to his groin so fast it made him dizzy.
    She pulled back and murmured against his lips. “You taste like sugar. And chocolate.”
    “You taste like heaven.”
    “This is weird. Kissing my friend.”
    “Not weird. Meant to be.”
    She pressed her lips to his for a long second. “You taste like macadamia nuts too.”
    “Kiss me, Torres.”
    This time when she slid her tongue into his mouth, it wasn’t just the tip.
    Jared couldn’t contain the low groan that erupted from his throat. How many years had he waited for this moment? Yearned for it?
    Tentatively, he touched his tongue to hers, and Ava seemed to forget her fear. She sank into the kiss as she molded herself to his stomach and chest. The tongs pushed against his ribs, but Jared didn’t care. He thought only about the woman pressed against him, her tongue tangling with his, teasing, playing, delighting.
    And when she moved their clasped hands, steering his to her neck, Jared disentangled his fingers and wove them through her silken locks. Gently, he tugged on her hair, tipping her head back to intensify the kiss.
    When Ava withdrew her tongue, Jared almost did a silent dance of celebration. Not because she was pulling away, but because she was inviting him in, giving him control.
    He took it, chasing his way into her mouth, and then it was him kissing her, his lips clinging to hers, his tongue teasing and tempting. He ached to haul her even closer, trap her against him and hold her in his arms, but he kept one hand in her lustrous locks and the other wedged in his back pocket.
    Ava’s hand