Page 64 of P.S. I Hate You

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"It gets too hot in Texas to wear that much leather."

I unfold it and lay it flat on the table. “I intend to make shorts out of it.”

Jace takes another sip of his beer. “Leather shorts, huh.”

I can already see them in my head as I nod. A high-waisted wide leg with deep front pockets and bow detail. They’re going to be amazing.

The shrill ring of my phone muffles up from underneath. I throw back the corner in time to see Troy’s name light up the screen for the third time today. “I’ll text him later,” I say, silencing the sound.

“Answer it.” The low cadence of his baritone sends shivers up my spine. He pushes it toward me with one finger, his denim gaze darkening. “You still owe me a favor.”

My stomach clenches. “You want to waste your favor on that?”

“Pick it up.”

I hit accept and bring the phone to my ear. “Hey.”

“Hey! There you are! I’ve been trying to call you.”

Jace’s piercing stare burns a hole clear through me. I rise from the chair and step out of his line of sight. “I’ve been running errands.”

“On your bike? You should have called. I would have picked you up.”

Heat hits my back. Jace’s body pressed against mine makes the tiny kitchen feel even smaller. “It’s okay. It’s good exercise.”

“You don’t need the exercise. You’re already hot.”

The irony pulls a breathy giggle from my lungs. Jace brushes my hair off my neck, making the remainder stand on end. “You’re sweet,” I say, but my voice cracks as Jace’s tongue traces up the shell of my ear.

When his fingers dip below the waistband of my shorts, I press my palm flat on the counter to hold myself steady. There’s a method to Jace’s madness, after all. This isn’t just a favor, it's a slow spiral into madness. A test of my will and a silentfuck youto Troy both at once.

“What are you doing for the rest of the afternoon?”

Jace slides beneath my panties and cups my mound. “Go ahead,” he whispers, nipping my lobe. “Tell him what you’re doing.”

Once again, my body betrays me, and I grow damp against his palm. Why does he have to have this effect on me? A little is too much but more is not enough. I’m addicted to his touch. An adrenaline junkie looking for bigger, better height than the last. It isn’t fair.

Jace rubs the pad of his middle finger hard across my entrance but doesn’t venture inside. I cover his hand with my own, silently begging him to stop, soundlessly aching for him to continue. “I have some things to do around the house.”

“What about after?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

He slips into my sodden core, and my muscles weaken. I drop my head to his chest, a muted moan puffing from my cheeks.

“Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say through clenched teeth. Jace slides through my wetness like a hot knife through butter. He pulls out just far enough to tease my clit before diving back in and taunting my inner walls with the crook of his fingers. “Just cleaning the kitchen.”

“Yeah? You sound out of breath.”

Jace’s free hand finds its way under my shirt next. He tugs on my bra until my breast falls free.

“Can you hold on a second?”

“Yeah.”

My thumb hits mute as I drop the phone from my ear. Jace stills. “Put him back on,” he growls.


Tags: Jane Anthony Romance