With his other hand, he cupped each of her br**sts in turn. “I like that you’re small. It makes it easy for me to reach all of you at once.”

She made some incoherent reply that sounded like a plea.

“You want to come, Alani?”

“Yes.”

“From my hand?” He pressed deeper again. “Or my mouth?”

Her eyes squeezed tight and reserve held her back for a long moment before she gasped out, “Your mouth.”

“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking, too.” He pushed back in the bed, resting on his stomach between her pale slender thighs. Intoxicated, he inhaled her scent, so hard he hurt. “Put your legs over my shoulders.”

Awkwardly, hampered by arousal, she did as told. Mmmm, nice. He liked having her warm thighs against his jaw. He cupped her hips and snuggled her a little closer. He blew softly on her, making her shudder.

With his fingertips he parted her, then leaned in to trace with his tongue.

“Jackson…”

Licking deep, he stabbed into her with his tongue until her hands knotted in his hair, and she tried to direct him.

Smiling against her, he flicked her most sensitive flesh with the very tip of his tongue—and she damn near came.

Groaning, her hips lifting off the bed, she dragged him close again. “Oh, please…Jackson, no more.”

“You wanted to experiment.” Even as he said it, he knew he was done. He couldn’t play it out any longer. If he even tried, he’d embarrass himself. Jerking off in the shower hadn’t even come close to relieving his need.

“No,” she cried. “I want you. That’s all.” And again she said, “Please.”

“Shh.” He pressed his face against her, licking, seeking her clitoris, and finally drawing her in.

Her ragged moan was loud and unrestrained, further exciting him. She bucked up against him, her rhythm frantic. It wasn’t easy, but Jackson got two fingers in her again—and she cried out, harsh, deep, her whole body bowed taut as her orgasm crashed through her.

He loved it. He loved… Huh-uh. Nooo. He wasn’t going there. No way. Not right now.

As soon as the wild quivering left her, he jolted up to the bedside table to grab a rubber. Neither of them said anything. Alani didn’t look capable. She laid there, her legs sprawled, her br**sts heaving, eyes closed and lips parted. Tears dampened her temples, ripping at his heart. Her breathing remained uneven, strained.

He settled between her legs, kissed her swollen lips. “Baby, look at me.”

It took her three breaths to get her eyes open.

Jackson held her face, their heartbeats aligned—and he thrust into her.

Her head went back.

His head dropped forward.

She groaned anew.

He locked his teeth.

“Damn, you’re tight.” He rocked into her, each stroke easing more than the one before it. “Ah, God, so f**king tight.”

Her arms went around his neck, her fingers into his hair.

“Wrap those pretty legs around me. Hold me.”

She stared up at him, her eyes dazed with an expression of awe. Slowly, she hooked first one leg around his waist, then the other—and he sank deeper.

“I’m not going to last,” he admitted through his teeth, and he knew it had as much to do with how she looked at him as anything else.

Alani swallowed. She pulled him down for a kiss and whispered, “Then harder, please.”

He shattered. He reared up on stiffened arms and hammered into her as the pressure built unbearably.

The second he felt her squeezing him and heard her vibrating cry of release, he let himself go.

It was perfect.

It was mind-blowing.

Because it was Alani.

He didn’t know if he ever wanted to let her go. He liked her company. He loved having sex with her. She set him off in ways he hadn’t known were possible.

Was that enough?

It hit Jackson that he didn’t have to decide anything right now. He’d have a while to figure out what he wanted for the long haul, and if Alani fit into that plan, he’d find a way to keep her in his life.

For right now, he only needed to keep her in his bed. And given the way she clutched him so tightly, that wouldn’t be too difficult at all.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

HE SHOULD HAVE been sleeping. He should have been dead to the world. Instead, Jackson lay on his back, one arm behind his head, the other keeping Alani curled close to his side. He stared at the shifting moon shadows on the ceiling, his body drained of tension but his thoughts clamoring.

Alani had one thigh over his lap, one lax hand resting over his abdomen, her nose pressed to his ribs. He could feel her deep, even breaths, smell the sultry scent of her skin and hair.

They’d destroyed the bed.

She’d destroyed his peace of mind.

If Marc Tobin was the one who’d drugged him, Trace would have him, and soon. The threat would be gone. Alani wouldn’t need him for protection—and then what?

He had time, but how much? Days? Weeks?

How long would be enough?

Without thinking about it he tightened his hold on Alani. She stirred, so he kissed the top of her head and soothed her until she settled again.

The steadily shifting hands on the bedside clock taunted him as they registered a little after two in the morning. He needed to get some sleep, but his mind wouldn’t rest. Annoyed at himself, Jackson closed his eyes and tried to clear his mind.

He was about to give up on that pointless undertaking when suddenly the house went still. Where before he could hear the thrum of the air conditioner and kitchen appliances, now an obsidian blackness closed in, and he heard nothing.