stirring her senses, as if his nearness and the rough pads of his fingers skimming her bare shoulder werenât doing enough.
His breathing no longer sounded calm. She glanced up to find him watching her, his eyes hot with wanting. The room turned stifling. Airless.
âLarsenâ¦â Her name was little more than a whisper on his lips. He slid his palm along the side of her neck, sending shivers rippling through her. His gaze held hers captive. Tension built and coiled within her as she waited, breathless. Wanting.
Slowly he slid his thumb beneath her jaw and lifted her face, bending toward her. Even as part of her begged to push him away, she reached for him, lifting her hand in turn to slide along his stubbled jaw.
A low growl escaped Jackâs throat a second before he covered her mouth with his own. The kiss started out gentle, then turned harder, more insistent, stirring feelings in her that quickly turned raw. Hungry.
How long had it been since she let a man get this close? Sheâd forgotten how good it felt to be touched, to be filled with passion and life. And need.
Larsen wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, opening her mouth on his. A growl rumbled deep in Jackâs chest as his tongue swept inside to claim hers. He tasted like heaven, like warm, sinful fantasies.
His hands gripped her waist and he rose, lifting her to her feet and into his arms. She forgot the towel, forgot everything but her need for this man. She lifted both hands to his face, holding him just where she wanted him, that wonderful mouth fused with hers. He pushed her gently backward, against the sink cabinet, pressing against her. He was hard. Aroused.
Reason wormed its way into her passion-fogged mind. Sex. Too much. Too close.
She pulled back from the kiss. âJackâ¦â
He dragged in short ragged breaths as he watched her, his passion-drugged eyes brimming with impatience, an impatience that slowly turned to resignation. Jack sighed and let her go. But as he stepped back, the towel that had covered her dropped to the floor between them. With a gasp, Larsen grabbed it and yanked it over her breasts, but the damage was done. The moment shattered.
âIâ¦need to get dressed.â She tried to push past him but he put out an arm to bar her way.
âYou still need a Band-Aid.â
Embarrassment heated her cheeks. âOkay, but no sexy, lingering touches this time.â She couldnât quite meet his gaze.
It was one thing to kiss him. Something entirely different to flash him, accident or not.
To his credit, he didnât say anything that would compound her self-consciousness. Instead he applied the Band-Aids to her shoulder with quick, clinical movements.
âAll done.â
She hazarded a glance at his face and found him watching her with amused sympathy.
He lifted one wry, teasing brow. âYou do know how to get a guyâs attention.â
âYeah. Wellâ¦â Her embarrassment melted beneath his gentle humor. âOn that note, Iâm going to bed. Alone,â she added as she walked with forced calm down the hallway to Jackâs bedroom.
Larsen closed the door, then sank back against it, her legs refusing to hold her upright a second longer. She struggled to suck air into her lungs, struggled to remember how to breathe after that kiss.
Every nerve in her body hummed with electricity. She could probably light the entire room if she shoved her finger in the light socket. Her fingers went to her lips, trailing over flesh that still tingled.
The man could kiss.
With a groan, she closed her eyes and leaned her head against the door. Why had she let him do that? Now he was going to want more. She was going to want more.
When what she needed to do was put distance between them.
She banged her head silently against the door at her stupidity. It was time to find that rock-solid control sheâd always prided herself on, and find it fast.
The
Lightnin' Hopkins: His Life, Blues