Lori Foster - Savor the Danger

Disbelieving, Alani jerked around to see him. Standing in the circle of his arms, her hands on his chest, she had to tip her head way back to see his face. “What do you mean, gone?”

Ill at ease, he shrugged. “All I remember is waking up with the king-daddy of all migraines, a wallop of confusion….” He shifted, drawing her closer to his body. His voice went hoarse. “And there you were, in the raw beside me.”

Her heart almost stopped. “But…” She shoved him back accusingly. “You told me you hadn’t been drinking.”

“Did I?” He ran a hand through his dark blond hair, then pulled off the sunglasses. “Because I don’t remember that, either. Hell, I don’t even remember talking to you.”

Immediately sidetracked, Alani strangled on a breath. “Oh my God, Jackson.” Never had she seen eyes so bloodshot. Sympathy welled up. “You look—”

“Like shit, I know. Feel like it, too, believe me.” He pinched the bridge of his nose, squeezed his eyes shut a second, then snapped them open again. “We had sex?”

Good grief, he had a one-track mind. But then she’d found that out last night. She winced as she took in his expression. The whites of his eyes looked blood-red, making the green seem more vivid. But even miserable, his direct gaze managed to keep her snared. “You honestly expect me to believe you don’t remember?”

One large, warm hand hooked her nape, lifting her to her tiptoes so he could kiss her once, hard and fast. “I woke up with my vision dicked, my brain on fire and my guts brawling. And then I saw you, in bed, beside me.” He went gruff with arousal. “You looked so incredible, it’s a wonder that didn’t send me right over the edge.”

“But it did, remember?” She went nose to nose with him and prompted, “You threw up.”

Rather than retreat, he moved in until he surrounded her with his size and his determination. “Woman, there is no way you think you were the cause of that.”

She should have put space between them, but it felt so good being close to him again. It seemed that last night had left her addicted; all morning long, her body had mourned the loss of his scent, the heat of his touch. With less conviction than she intended, she asked, “No?”

“Hell, no.” Restless, his hands kneaded her back. “You looked so hot, I wish I’d taken a photo. I wish I had you painted on the ceiling. Looking at you buck-ass might revive me, and it’ll definitely give me wood, but it would never repulse me or—”

Flustered by his brazen language, Alani smashed her fingers over his mouth. “Just…stop.”

She felt his relieved smile.

And then she felt his tongue.

Quickly, she tucked her hand behind her. When his strong fingers wrapped around her wrist, keeping her in that vulnerable position, she realized her mistake.

“Let’s put it to the test.” He leaned in, his hot breath brushing her cheek, the top of her shoulder. “Let’s get you out of this little dress and we’ll see how I react.”

“Oh, for the love of—”

“I swear, darlin’, I might implode…” His mouth opened on her shoulder in a stirring love bite. “But I won’t be ill. Not even close.”

“Jackson, please.” She tried to retreat two steps—and he reluctantly released her. “I don’t understand any of this. You need to give me time to think.”

“Maybe you’d think better naked.” He touched the hem of her dress and murmured more to himself than to her, “It’d be pretty easy to get you out of this—”

Infuriated, she slapped his hand away and glared at him.

“Okay, okay.” Frowning, he gestured his subdued agreement. “Think away.”

How could he not remember anything? What he’d said, what he’d done… All the things she’d said and done, the things she sort of regretted now.

“How is this possible?”

“I don’t know.”

“So just like that,” she asked with skepticism, “you’ve lost the details of last night?”

“That’s about it.”

Humiliation hung with her, but knowing he had no memory of it alleviated a big part of the regret. She gave him a sideways look. “This is sort of convenient.”

He shook his head. “I hear the suspicious tone, babe, but I’m not firing on all cylinders today, so you’ll have to spell it out for me. No way in hell does any of this seem convenient to me.”

Could he be telling the truth rather than dodging responsibility for his actions of last night? Maybe. After all, she’d left him with no obligation, and she’d promised not to tell anyone. He had no real reason to pretend he’d forgotten it all.

Thinking aloud, she said, “It’s just that it’s so unreal.” What would explain such a thing?

“Tell me about it.” Gaze hot and far too intense, he bent his knees to search her face. “Did I get inside you, sugar? I’m dying to know.”

Wide-eyed, Alani turned to give him her back. Jackson’s effect on her was enough that, even with so many unanswered questions, she wanted to rush him into the bedroom and do it all again. But that would be dumb. If she slept with him again, she wanted the time to talk and clear the air first.

Besides, he didn’t exactly look able to do all those awesomely amazing things again. But on the tail end of that thought, he stepped closer again and she felt a solid erection nudging her backside.

“Jackson!” Never in her life had she done so much screeching. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Suffering. You gotta tell me something here, Alani. Please.”

Frustrated, she snapped, “Can’t you turn it off for just a minute? We need to talk.”

“You’re kidding, right?” Red-eyed and a little shaky, he still sounded and looked on the make. It was there in his voice, the set of his hard shoulders, the probing way he watched her. “Since the day I laid eyes on you, I’ve wanted to get you out of your panties. You know it, because I wasn’t shy about it.”

“Certainly not.” He’d been overwhelmingly obvious.

“And now it seems like I finally did, but damn it all, I can’t remember it. Before you can expect me to concentrate on anything else, you gotta put me out of my misery.”

Her mouth pinched; she forced herself to face him again. “Okay, so maybe you don’t remember, but still you know.” He wasn’t an idiot. Waking up with her naked, wrapped around him, smiling like a satisfied sap, had to be a pretty good clue.

His gaze stroked over her features. “I’m assuming.” His interest settled on her mouth. “I’m hoping. But I need the details.” He caressed her shoulders. “Damn, woman, do I ever need the details.”

Yes, to some extent he probably did. That’d only be fair. But she’d be judicious. She’d tell him only the basics. All the rest, her overblown moans and begging, the things he’d done to her, the things she loved him doing…no way would she tell him any of that.

Not looking at him helped, but just a little. She swallowed and whispered, “You…we…”

“Had sex?”

Sex didn’t quite cover it, but she nodded and took a breath. “Yes.”

Muscled arms came around her once more, cuddling her close, his hold somehow pleased and possessive. “It was good?”

Could Jackson Savor be insecure about his performance? Actually, that’d make sense for anyone who couldn’t remember. She nodded.

He growled low, “Did you come?”

She tried to lurch away, but instead she found herself turned into him, her breasts against his chest, his heartbeat matching her own.

As if he already sensed the answer—and liked it—he got that seductive, lazy look about him. “Did you?”

Face hot, she nodded. “I…yes.”

Mouth curling the smallest bit, he whispered, “A wimpy little come, or a really smokin’ hot, screaming orgasm?”