So Toxic(Bad Boy Next Door Book 4)(173)

He licks his lips, and I roll my eyes.

“I promise that all my bras aren’t that hard to get out of.”

He pulls my hand to his shoulder, and then he unties my shoes, removing them while I use him to balance.

I let out a huff. “I can’t believe that wasn’t the biggest turn-off ever.”

He hooks his fingers into my waistband and peels my pants down to my ankles. “Are you shitting me? Those tits are fucking epic. And to watch them bounce? Damn, woman. I can’t wait to set you astride my cock and see how high I can get them to go.”

I smack his shoulder. “You’re a mess.”

“And you’re hot as fuck. I want to spend a week satiating this hunger.” He slides his fingers under the elastic of my panties and drags them down.

He leads me to the tub, holding my hand as I step in. Warm enough to sting a bit, but not burn. I sit, sinking up to my ears in bubbles.

I lean back as Jackson yanks his shorts down over his very erect cock. My mouth waters, and my core clenches. He’s possibly the most beautiful man ever.

He wraps his fingers around his dick and pushes and pulls his hand up and down it a couple of times, his eyes hot and on me. “See this? That’s what you do to me, Peaches. I’ve been walking around with a half-boner pretty much since we met. And when I see you, it’s all I can do to keep it in my pants.”

I swish the water around me. “Well, don’t feel too bad. I have lady-wood whenever you’re anywhere in the immediate vicinity. That’s not something I’ve ever experienced before.”

“Yeah?”

I shrug. “Yeah. Now, are you getting in here with me or are you just posing for my viewing pleasure while I bathe?”

“Yes, I’m getting in. But let me get us a couple of drinks.”

He steps out of the bathroom, but he’s back before I can even get my hands between my legs to give my clit a little rub. I move my legs up to the side of the tub. But he comes to the end where I lounge.

I take the offered glass of wine.

He’s still standing there. His cock is right there.

I grasp his hard-on with my bubble-covered hand. “Aren’t you getting in?”

“Yes, as soon as you scoot up so I can slide in behind you.”

I move. He steps in and sits with his legs on either side of me. Reaching around, he grabs my tits and rolls my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending a zing of pleasure straight to my cunt.

Fishing around in the water behind me, I take hold of his cock. We massage each other for a few seconds before he pulls away.

“What’s wrong?”

He downs the rest of his wine.

“I’m going to wash your hair.” He draws me to him until my back is against his chest. His cock presses into me, keeping me high on anticipation.

With his wine glass, he dips water to pour over my head, careful to keep it out of my closed eyes.

This isn’t a rich man’s house. This is Heaven. Maybe I did die of mortification, and, because it was such a horrible death, God has granted me an eternity with this angelic version of Jackson Tremaine.

He’s gentle, especially around the stitched wound. His fingers lightly rub circles over my head, lathering my hair. My clit beats with my heart, ready for Jackson to turn his attention to other, more important, places.

“You grow up in Oklahoma?”

I lean back, so I can see his face. “How’d you know I’m from Oklahoma?”

“I’m good at placing accents, I guess. Plus, I grew up in Louisiana. But I’ve been to Oklahoma. I actually spent a little time there as a guest of the Office of Juvenile Affairs Correction Facility. That’s how I met Bax. We’ve been friends ever since.”

I run my hands down his legs, the hair on them tickling my fingers where it floats in the water. “Really? I never would’ve known that you’re from Louisiana. Where’s your Cajun accent?”

“We don’t all sound like Cajuns.” He chuckles. “Well, I did a little, but when I got out here and started acting, I ended up paying a voice coach to overcome the handicap. Landed a lot more parts without the accent.”

“So…juvie, huh?”

He shrugs as he ladles water over my soapy hair. “Yeah. I was sixteen. I’d decided to move to Oklahoma to find my dad. Unfortunately, I didn’t find Dad before trouble found me. Got in with the wrong crowd, and basically everything that entails. Luckily, I got picked up early. I did my time, and the judge who sent me there was waiting for me outside the gate when they let me out. He took me to stay with his dad.”

“Oh?” My heart cringes thinking about a sixteen-year-old on his own.

“Yeah, he was a curmudgeon, but he was also funny. He took me in for the next two years—he made me finish high school, put up with my teenage shit, and then helped me figure out what I wanted to do with my life. He was even supportive when I told him I’d decided to come to Hollywood.”