So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(153)

I shove the desire clamoring for recognition into a holding cell. Now is not the time. This is not the man. I don’t even like him, for Heaven’s sake.

Jackson closes in. His lips brush where the pulse hammers in my neck.

Boundary issues. The man has boundary issues.

But a wave of hunger crashes through me like a river through a tight gorge, creating a current too strong to fight. A sample. That’s all. What can it hurt?

Do I actually need to like him to enjoy a moment out of time? I should have more fun. Life is short. Gee-Gee said so.

He lets out a low growl, and his tongue slips along the edge of my collarbone. “Damn, woman, you taste as good as I imagined.”

Unbidden, my fingers crawl up to fasten behind his neck.

Big hands splay my ribs as he yanks me against him. His erection pushes into my belly. Something inside me answers that silent request, and warmth winds its way to that still pulsing beat at the apex of my thighs.

I let out a sigh. My fingertips push into the hair curling over his nape—so soft.

He finds my jaw and pulls me to him, his fingers pushing through the hair at my temple. His mouth dances along mine, teasing and nipping. When the tip of his tongue slides along the seam between my lips, a small gasp opens them to him.

His hard body pushes against me from chest to hip. His knee nudges between my thighs, until his leg pushes against the most sensitive part of me. That same part wets in anticipation.

A hand glides from my ribs over my breast, rubbing and massaging.

I moan.

He deepens the kiss. I raise my leg. My pussy begs for more attention than his thigh is providing.

He moves from my mouth, raining kisses down my jaw and over my neck.

I find the zipper on his jeans, easing it down. His cock begs to be released. He grunts.

My eyes fly open.

His little boy grin bowls me over.

Oh, Lord, he’s gorgeous.

His gaze holds mine. “I think I might’ve read the wrong parts of your book.”

My book?

I yank my hand off his crotch and flatten both palms on his chest, shoving as hard as I can. “Crap.”

“What’re you doing?” His surprised expression might be comical in any other circumstance, but not now.

My nostrils flare as indignation flows through me—into every artery, every vein, every capillary. “You. What are you thinking?”

His head draws back a notch. “If you want to know the truth, I was thinking I’d like to find out what happens when you get my dick out of my pants. Why’d you stop? We were just getting to the good part.”

Of course.

Men.

“That ridiculous bet. That’s why I stopped.”

His face says he doesn’t have a clue what I’m talking about.

“That bet you announced on national television, making it almost impossible for Shay and me to refuse?”

At least he has the courtesy to look embarrassed that he didn’t remember that life altering, career demolishing moment he engineered.

I wilt. “Look, the thing is—”

A cough from the doorway pushes me a large step away from Jackson.

“The thing is that this bet might end both of our careers. But, I imagine you don’t give a shit about that. Do you, Jackass?” Shay scratches her head, bleary eyed. “Sorry, I meant, Jackson, of course. Oh, and your winky’s about to escape.”

He tosses her a fake smile and does up the front of his pants. “Aw, don’t worry. Don’t they say all press is good press?”

Shay yanks open the refrigerator, her butt in the air as she rummages through what’s left of this week’s groceries. “We’ll see about that. If you cause my friend here to lose book sales, I’ll have to kick your ass.”

Dickey Bird squawks. “Kick ass. Your ass is grass. Jackass is grass.”

“You tell him, Dickey.” She bumps the fridge door closed with her hip and slams the coffee creamer onto the counter.

“I stopped by to invite you two ladies to dinner this Friday. I thought we could choose your victim.”

Victim? Seriously? “You’re talking about a real live person, who’s going to walk unsuspectingly into a trap.”

Jackson glances from me to Shay. “Nah it’s only a trap if they fall for it. And if they do, then that’s on them. Right, Leave ‘Em?”

Shay pulls back a fist as though she’s going to let him have it. “Don’t make me hurt you. I’m sure you’d get some press if I turn you into a one-nut wonder.”

I should let her pop him one. Alas, she is my friend. I jump between them before Shay winds up in jail.

I push Jackson toward the front door. “Maybe you should go.”

He blows a kiss to Shay, whose back is turned as she stirs her coffee—of course, her other hand is in the air, flipping him off.