The kissing has escalated to heavy petting, to the tugging and removing of shirts. I know. Nature takes control so rapidly when humans stop talking.
I feel a dozen pairs of undomesticated animals’ eyes in the shadows of the trees and undergrowth surrounding us, watching us. And I don’t care. Let them watch.
“I need to taste you, sweetheart.”
Neither missing a beat nor wasting a single second asking if we’re too exposed, my Jax reacts enthusiastically.
Perched on the rocks at the edge of a nearby stream, Jax helps me slide her spandex pants down and off. With her lovely backside resting on my sweaty khaki shirt, I spread her open as we kiss, my greedy fingers petting her soft, sensitive skin until her moans turn urgent and my digits are coated with her slickness.
I can’t resist teasing along with my strokes. I caress her with soft kisses down her neck, along her collarbone. “So soft, wet, and naughty.” The goosebumps rise across her flesh while her folds drench my hand and my sweaty shirt on which she sits. I’m never washing that shirt again.
Finally, it’s time to take what I want—all of her.
My face buries into her heat, slowly at first, then hungrily. I want to enjoy every single second with her because, as she’s said, she has no idea what will happen tomorrow.
My tongue finds its home inside her warm, wet core, fitting around me so snug and cozy. She’s perfect and ready for me. She tastes like the sweetest fruit, and I never want to stop.
Our first time together was a nearly public exhibition on the boat, and now it feels like a celebration. I’m fervent; I’m so overcome with joy and deep, deep need to care for her, cover her in my protection, be close to her, know everything about her…is this love? I don’t know. I suppose love will show itself when it’s ready.
And if she loves me back or not, everything will be alright in the end.
Everything will play out exactly as it is meant to, without too much intervention on the intellectual side of things. I’ve lived too much inside my head.
With her honey on my lips, dripping down my chin, I finally feel like I’ve let go. I lick, suck, taste, and tease, her moans and cries growing ever louder as her pelvis bucks upward.
I keep going, savoring her juices, triggering another gush with my attentions to her clit, her heated, tight cunt.
With her fingers woven through my hair, my Jax comes apart, flooding me with her sweetness, pulsating, thrusting, both of us sweaty and not caring what dangers lurk in the dark jungle.
Whatever happens, it doesn’t matter. I’m here, and I’ll always be the one to take care of her.
I share her taste with her, kissing her and stroking her trembling body through a long bout of aftershocks. I could keep going. I knew she’d be sweet, but holy shit, is that not the right word for it. Miraculous would be closer to what it’s like having her taste slide down my throat.
When I help her ease back into her clothes and help her stand, she stumbles and falls against me, laughing. “I change my mind. That, that is what I will fly halfway around the globe for.”
We laugh and seal the moment with a kiss, unaware of anyone or anything that might be watching us nearby.
If we’d been paying attention, I might have heard a branch snap or a footfall and
been able to hide. Unfortunately, the danger is right on top of us by the time I realize it’s there.
“The only place she’s going is back to Los Angeles with me.”
Chapter Eighteen
Jax
My father is not the person who stands about thirty feet away. Neither is it Louie.
The man standing about thirty feet away is Damian, my dad’s most trusted confidant, the one he has entrusted to be in charge of me since I was a child, to keep predators away.
A cold, disinterested voice drawls from the phone at the man’s hip. “Do you have her, Damian?”
With his eyes trained on his captor, Damian takes the phone out of the belt clip and speaks into it. “Caught her and her boyfriend trying to disappear in the forest.”
His other hand rests on the butt of a sidearm on his other hip.
“Damian. Come on. A runaway bride is hardly worth this much effort,” I say. “I know my dad isn’t paying you enough to travel this far.”