Page 41 of Hot Set
ChapterThirteen
Jack takes the mountain roads to the tiny town of Sneem at breakneck speed. I can’t keep my fingers away from his lips. He kisses and bites. When his hand strays under my thigh, it’s all I can do to keep from guiding it the rest of the way to a destination too distracting for someone already struggling to keep a car on the highway.
We cross a stone bridge over the river and into the center of town. I swear the car tips onto two wheels when Jack tears up a small side road.
“Are we going to a hotel?”
He honks as we pass a yellow house surrounded by a low stone fence. “I’m taking you home. I’m just telling Tim and Imelda it’s me.”
“Tim and Imelda?”
“Neighbors. They keep my roommates in check when I’m down in Waterville.”
“Whoa. You have roommates?”
He favors me with a sly grin that’s swiftly becoming my favorite. “Tom and Max. They’ll be glad to meet you.”
“You live with two guys?”
I feel the blush rise from my chest up to my forehead. When I imagine what Jack and I are about to do, a couple of dudes listening on the other side of the wall is far from a turn-on.
“Two ladies. Tomasina and Maxine.”
“And you never thought to mention you don’t live alone?” Oh, God, two women eavesdropping is worse. When Jack sets his mind to something, he develops tunnel vision, ignoring any obstacles that keep him from getting what he wants.
We pull up to a one-story cottage made of stone and brightly painted red wood. “You’re very welcome to my home, Gillian Bettencourt.”
The place is small. The obvious lack of privacy we’ll have inside douses my plan to shove Jack through the door and rip his clothes off. I can’t deal with an audience on the other side of his bedroom wall. I’ll meet his “ladies” and then convince him to find a discreet B and B.
He’s already up the path, unlocking the door and eagerly waving me on. Flower beds brimming with winter Irises stretch under windows from the door to the corners of his house.
I start toward Jack. What is he planning to tell the two women he cohabitates with? Can he trust them enough not to blab about us? How close are the three of them? Oh, Lord, what if he used to date one or both of them? Jack is totally the type that would stay friends with exes.
As soon as the front door swings open, a pair of gray tabby cats wind around Jack’s legs. He scoops one up in each hand. “I’d like you to meet Tom and Max.”
“Your roommates are cats?”
When he chortles at his joke, the cats rub their heads against him. “Worried the piss out of you, didn’t I?” Jack dumps the girls onto the path. They approach to give me the once-over. Definitely the jealous types.
I slap his shoulder. “Stinker.” Now that we’re on the threshold of the actual place Jack calls home, I feel a little jittery. Once through that door, a significant point of no return will be crossed.
Sensing my hesitation, Jack strokes my hair. “You know I burn for you.”
I rest my hands on his hips. My eyes are riveted on his as the dusk rolls over the hillside.
Jack sighs. “I know I can be a pushy bastard.” Tapping a finger against my temple, his voice turns serious. “If this has decided you’re not ready, I’ll honor that.” He drops his head back, watching the sky. “But you’ll have to excuse me while I pour a bucket of ice cubes down my jeans.” Gently, my Celtic warrior raises my chin. “You are too important for me to pressure.”
My fingers slowly stroke the side of his face. Jack is pushy, but everything with him has felt mutual. Mutual attraction. Mutual connection. Mutual burning. I trust him and want to be vulnerable with him, open up and begin to purge the damage Treat did. This isn’t a life commitment; it’s giving myself permission to try something new that I have a say in.
“You’re very welcome to take me into your home.”
I’m off my feet in an instant and in Jack’s arms. His mouth finds mine. Our kissing is a scrumptious frenzy of lust. He carries me into his living room and kicks the door closed behind us, leaving his roommates to fend for themselves.
My hands tangle in the soft waves of his hair as I capture his lips, refusing to set them free. We fall onto the couch. His body presses mine deep into the cushions. Hands travel up and down my sides until they make their way to my breasts. I clutch his back and arch up against him.
He rises on elbows to catch his breath.
I grasp his shoulders. “Get back down here.”