Yet, she wasn’t the least bit interested in leaving. She had spent the whole night in the lobby talking to Jack, who was funny and kind and extremely smart.
She was going to have to name her first-born child after Beckwith.
Okay, so maybe it wouldn’t go that far, but it wasn’t like she could name her first orgasm or anything, and she was sure that was coming soon, pun intended. The point was, she was falling for Jack. She wanted him more than Derby pie, and that mile-high gooey chocolate dessert was never to be underestimated.
Admittedly, she was a tumbler, falling for various guys and their hard-luck stories, but inevitably, her legs got caught up in the skirt of half-truths, and she fell on her face. For the most part, she’d never minded, because she had never fallen in love.
It was possible she’d done just that in one night.
Or at least taken a serious turn in that direction.
That was the only explanation for the way she felt—sort of inflated and overaware, her skin prickling everywhere, her throat tight, breath anxious. Excitement and pleasure rushed through her, and an irrepressible giddiness made her feet tap rapidly, her heart race.
At some point she was going to have to leave and go home, but for now she didn’t want this night, this moment, this feeling, to end.
Jamie tucked her legs over the back of the chair and leaned backward, observing Jack upside down. No one else was stirring in the lobby at six in the morning on a Saturday. “So, what’s your one big regret in life, Jack?”
His eyebrow went down, or actually up. “Besides that perm in the seventh grade?”
She laughed, holding her hands over her stomach so her shirt wouldn’t ride up. “Fashion faux pas don’t count.”
“I don’t have a one big regret,” he said thoughtfully. “More like a series of little regrets. You know, like when you were six and you went along with the kids when they picked on the kid who was overweight. Or when I blew off this girl in high school who asked me to the prom. The time I forgot my sister’s birthday. Stuff like that.”
Even though the blood was rushing to her head, Jamie stayed upside down. It was an interesting perspective, watching Jack lean closer to her, his hands resting on his spread legs. He had a nice strong jaw.
Jamie’s necklace fell over her mouth, and she let the stones slip between her lips, then bit. She was a chewer. Pen caps, sweatshirt strings, fingernails, her hair.
“I know exactly what you mean,” she said around the necklace.
His arm came toward her, and his finger brushed across her lip, pulling back the obstruction. “Say that again? I couldn’t understand you.”
“Sorry. Bad habit. I’m always sticking things in my mouth. I’ve always been very oral.”
He started laughing, and she suddenly realized how that had sounded. Oh, Lord. She blushed. Especially since he’d moved in closer and she was about an inch from his chest, his fingers still tracing over her mouth, her hair brushing down over his waist.
“That’s not what I meant.”
“What? I didn’t say anything,” he protested, a grin still on his upside-down face.
She needed to right herself before her eyes bulged or she did something crazy like lick his chest. Smiling herself, she tried to sit back up, but she was stuck in the chair, Jack too close for her to swing her legs back around.
“Geez, I’m stuck.” Her back was kind of spasming now, too, protesting the awkward position. But she wasn’t even sure she cared. She just felt too darn good to worry about spinal damage.
Besides, Jack already had it under control. With a few gentle pushes and pulls with those impressive biceps, he had her right side up and facing his chest. A pile of curls tumbled over her face, blocking her view, and she slapped at them impatiently. She put her hand on Jack’s waist and gripped the fabric of his shirt.
For balance, of course.
“Why don’t we go horseback riding later today?” Jack said, playing with her corkscrew hair lying on her shoulder. “I’m sure I’ll embarrass myself, but you said you miss riding…”
Well, that was sweet. Jamie’s hand curled into his shirt tighter as she fought the urge to sigh. “That would be fun.”
“Great. I guess we should grab a few hours of sleep first, and we can meet back up later. Let’s see if we can find you a cab.”
Neither one of them moved. Jack was still leaning toward her in his chair and he was staring at her lips. Jamie was aware that she was pressed against his thighs, and that she didn’t want to go anywhere.
Ever.
Sleeping in her twin bed with purple cotton sheets held no appeal, not even when she’d been up all night.
Her nipples hardened. Her inner thighs went moist. Her breathing slowed, and her mouth drifted open. That one taste of Jack in Times Square had been so long ago. Hours and hours and hours ago.
Just not enough, not when he was so, so close. She wanted another taste. And then some. She wanted to make love to this amazing man, sooner than later.
“I could just crash at your place for a few hours,” she said quickly, before she lost her boldness and went shy on him. “Save on cab fare.”
His eyes went dark, a stormy blue stained with desire. “That’s a good idea. I do have a spare bedroom.”
Her mouth dropped in laughter at his teasing. But she knew he was joking. She gave him a flirtatious smile. “How thoughtful.”
“Or there’s a king-size bed we could share…so we don’t have to make two beds later. Save us time.”
He was moving closer, face so near hers she went cross-eyed trying to look at him. “Well, that’s very practical of you.”
Before the words were even completely out, his mouth was over hers, kissing her with all the fervor and passion that she felt. Oh, yeah. Bring it home, honey.
This was a kiss. This was Fourth of July fireworks, this was a tall iced tea on a hot summer day, this was hitting the lottery.
Everything she’d ever wanted, wrapped up into one sultry tongue tango.
Good Lord in heaven, he knew what he was doing.
But he pulled back suddenly, and she whimpered. His eyes burned, his breath hot and hard.
“I have to tell you something.”
“What?” That didn’t sound good. That sounded like a preface to an I’m Married speech.
“My last name…I never told you my last name.”
“Is that all?” Jamie gave a shaky laugh. “You scared me there for a second.” Just briefly, Beckwith’s prediction about dishonesty had risen in her head, like a big pin ready to pop her balloon.