Smooth Irish (Book 2 of the Weldon Series) (13 page)

She moaned with pleasure, and swore she heard him
growl before his mouth came down hard on hers. At the end of his
second kiss she was ready to drag him into the sand. Never in her
life had she been this needy, not even when all of her teenage
hormones had raged. She was a woman over ready for a man and it
seemed the only man her body wanted was Jackson. In her book the
mind was supposed to dominate the body, but Jackson was rewriting
the pages. Right that minute, enough hot, heavy sex to get him out
of her system sounded really good.

“I want you.” She pulled up his shirt, caressing his
bare skin.

He groaned, going after the buttons of her shirt.
Pushing the cups of her bra to the side, he exposed her breasts,
and leaned over to gently nip her aroused peaks, then eased her
nipples with the brush of his tongue. Nan’s knees buckled from the
intense pleasure. He caught her with his left arm and shoulder and
slid his right hand up her skirt to cup her sex over her underwear.
It was hard to tell which was hotter, his hand or her. He started
to rub her lightly, an easy, but insistent back and forth motion
over her sex. Her hips rocked with him, pressing against his and
the hard, jean clad muscle of his thigh. Lost in her need, she
arched to him, wanting more. He gave her more. Sliding his hand
beneath her panties, he eased his finger into her sensitive groove.
A cry of excitement escaped her; her heart pounded so hard she
thought she would faint from the pleasure.

“Let’s go for a ride, sugar,” he said gruffly.
Cupping her bottom, he pressed her sex tighter against his fingers
and rubbed. At the same time, he teased her lips and the tips of
her breasts with light sucking kisses. Nan shook with the release
rocking her soul. She continued to moan, and Jackson buried his
face in her neck.

“Damn, woman. I can’t seem to stop myself around
you.” He took her hand and pressed it to his erection. He was as
hot as the midday sun. “There’s a whole lot more to come.”

A blush heated her cheeks, but she didn’t move her
hand. Instead, she cupped him, and he pressed himself harder
against her. Already she wanted more from him, more of him. She
moved her fingers to the snap of his fly.

Jackson tried to suck some air into his lungs so he
could think. Nan in no way resembled the woman he’d put on his
Harley earlier. Her neat bun had become a wild mane. Her prim skirt
was hiked up to her hips and her modest shirt hung open, letting
the moonlight bathe her full breasts. She’d never been more
beautiful. He wanted her. Wanted to lay her back into the soft sand
and bury himself deep inside of her again and again. He could still
hear the pant of her breath and the cry of her release echo in his
mind.

Three months ago, two days ago, hell even two
minutes ago, he would have done just that. But having had a taste
of her, he wanted more than just one roll in the sand. Seeing her
in Brad’s Mercedes and watching the man walk behind her with a
proprietary air irked Jackson. She didn’t belong with Brad.

He threaded his fingers through hers, and pressed
her hand against his throbbing erection. He couldn’t ever remember
needing a woman as much as he needed her. In the three months since
she’d left him behind in Salty’s Bar, he’d had plenty of time and
opportunity to find out that it was Nan he craved and no other. A
good month or two in the sack should work her out of his system. He
rubbed her hand against his fly, then lifted her fingers to his
lips. Her skin was soft and silky and the musk-like fragrance of
her sex clung to his hand. He breathed deeply of her, wanted to
taste her, and almost lost hold of his new resolve. He started
buttoning her blouse.

“If I go any further, sugar, you’ll hate me in the
morning. I want you choosing me when you’re thinking straight and
not when I’ve bulldozed you into my bed. Forever isn't in the
cards, but I want more than just one night. Come to Jesse’s
birthday party Friday night, and spend the weekend with me working
out this craziness in our blood.”

“But—”

He touched his finger to her lips, stilling her
protest. “Wear that black underwear you had on the other night. Now
hop on. I need to get you home before I change my mind.”

She didn’t argue, and he made fast time getting her
home. The ride wasn’t the same, though. She held herself stiffly
from him and didn’t say anything as he walked her to the door,
helping her unlock it. He didn’t mean to hurt her feelings. She had
to know how much he wanted her.

Nan opened her door, turning to him, and he leaned
over to kiss her, whispering softly, “Tonight was incred—“

“A mistake.” She planted a finger in the center of
his chest and pushed him back.

“What the hell?” He rubbed his chest, thoroughly
confused.

“I’m not sixteen, I’m not drunk. I’m a
thirty-year-old woman who isn’t a pushover. I don’t need you
deciding how I’m going to feel in the morning. Thank you for the
ride.” She slammed the door in his face.

He stood there for a minute stunned. How in the hell
had he become the bad guy when he’d tried to do the right thing? He
muttered and cursed as he stomped back to his bike.

Sitting on his seat like he was king of the road was
Shakespeare.

Jackson glared at the beast, swearing horns sprouted
from the cat’s head as he watched. The cat dug his claws into the
bike’s leather seat and hissed when Jackson moved to take him off.
“Damn! Go easy on the seat, will ya? Let’s have a man to cat talk
here. You crossed the line when you licked my buns, and it pissed
me off that you scratched my glasses, but unless you want to be
strung up as shark bait stay off the bike.”

Jackson heard Nan gasp. She’d come back outside. She
ran over and snatched up her cat. “Don’t threaten Shakespeare.”

He was a fool. He should have taken Nan when he had
the chance. If he’d had a damn lick of sense they would still be at
the beach going hot and heavy. “I didn’t threaten the damn cat, I
just laid out some ground rules.”

“His name is Shakespeare. Why don’t you like
him?”

“I didn’t say I didn’t like him.” How in the hell
had she come to that conclusion? He rubbed his hands over his face.
“I don’t even know the cat.”

“Shakespeare.”

“Shakespeare then. I don’t know
what has you so mad. I don’t think you’re a push over. But I do
want
you
in my
bed for longer than just the spur of the moment. I want to make
love until we’re both in a mindless oblivion. So you think about
that before you write me off that approved list of yours and maybe
I’ll see you Friday.” He mounted his motorcycle and roared off.
Hell, women weren’t from Venus. Their damn reasoning was so far out
there, they had to be from Pluto at the very least.

Nan hugged Shakespeare to her breast. Considering
Shakespeare had probably gouged a hole or two in Jackson’s seat,
the man had shown remarkable restraint. But it irked her he was
making her choose to have an affair with him rather than just sweep
her off her feet. And what in the world possessed him to tell her
that she had an approved list?

He’d probably done her a big favor tonight. Had
probably saved her from making a mistake. Maybe she’d be more
grateful after a cold shower. So what if he would have been right
about her regretting things in the morning. At least she wouldn’t
have this unfulfilled ache inside.

* * *

Two days and numerous cold showers later, Nan wasn’t
any better off and she wasn’t in any better a mood. She pulled up
to Alexi and Jesse’s house and told herself she was relieved that
Jackson’s truck and his damned bike were nowhere in sight. Every
day outside the nurses’ station she saw him working, caught the
gleam of sunshine on his tanned muscles and had to listen to the
ohhs and ahhs of her co-workers as they ate him alive with their
hungry gazes. Nan was loath to admit that deep inside she was
eating him up with the best of them. In the space of seventy-two
hours she’d mentally made love to Jackson no less than a dozen
times, and they’d been on his motorcycle to boot.

Even writing all of the fantasies in her book had
done little to purge him from her mind. Friday kept looming larger
and larger on the horizon and her heart kept beating faster and
faster with anticipation. Would she spend the weekend with him?
Could she? How did one throw caution to the wind and just do
it?

When she’d returned from her wild ride with Jackson
Monday night, she’d found that Brad had left a message on her
answering machine. He’d said he would call while he was out of town
and had reminded her about the yachting party in two weeks. He
ended his call telling her they needed to talk as soon as he found
the time.

Be it Jackson’s influence, or Brad’s recent
behavior, she was seeing Brad with different eyes. He wasn’t just a
man absorbed with his career as she’d first thought. He planned
life to the point that it bordered on obsessive. And she had to
wonder if she was anything more than a calculated decision on his
part. Had he asked her out because he liked her, or because she’d
achieved the distinct honor of being the first person to earn the
Lois Emerson Merit Award twice? Was Brad even aware of her on a
physical or a personal level? At least physically Jackson left her
no doubt that he was very aware of her.

She was in big trouble. The GQ man with the IQ to
match was having less and less appeal and the smooth southern bad
boy was almost more than she could resist. She feared that rather
than sticking to the high road, she was about to take a wrong fork
that would lead her to a dead end. If the ride was anything like
the one Jackson gave her the other night on his motorcycle, she was
a goner. The wild exhilaration had appealed to her more than she
wanted to admit. She had just reached the point in her career at
which she felt established. Now she could look to doing some of the
fun things she had listed, like taking a gourmet cooking class, or
vacation to a new place, or learn a second language, or even take a
creative writing class—all good safe things.

She sighed. She’d rather kiss Jackson on a moonlit
beach or a sun scorching one for that matter.

Alexi stepped outside and waddled her way over
before Nan could gather her thoughts and get out of the car.

“Boy, am I glad to see you!”

“Why?” Nan smiled at Alexi’s method of fitting her
rotund figure into the passenger’s seat—a one leg at a time scoot.
She’d grown larger in just two weeks.

“Jesse has hovered and fussed this week until I feel
like I’m smothering. It’s a wonder he didn’t chain me to the couch.
Believe me, this play tonight is a Godsend.” Once in, Alexi leaned
back and shut her eyes.

“Don’t forget to buckle up.” Nan
backed out of the drive, turning her BMW onto the coastal road
leading them off Tybee Island, back the few miles to Savannah. She
and Alexi planned to stop for seafood before going to see
A Midsummer Night’s Dream
at the outdoor Shakespeare Festival. “Jesse can’t be fussing
over you that badly.”

“You don’t know the half of it,” Alexi gasped, short
of breath.

Seeing the dark circles under her friend’s eyes and
the tense lines of stress on her face, Nan held her tongue and
quickly drove them to the restaurant. Luckily they were eating
early enough to avoid the dinner rush and were seated immediately
at a table overlooking the Intercoastal Waterway. Gulls flew by,
fat white clouds dotted the hazy blue horizon, and crusty pelicans
hovered, looking for a tasty fish to flash on the shimmering
water.

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m tired. It’s harder to get comfortable at night,
and once I do get comfortable enough to sleep, I have to wake up
and go to the bathroom because junior here has decided to play
football with my bladder. I’m out of sorts and want my baby now. I
don’t want to wait another month. Can you imagine how big I’m going
to be then?” Alexi picked up the menu. “I’m starving. The fried
shrimp and fish platter looks great, doesn’t it?”

“Baked,” Nan said. Alexi looked as if she’d gained
about ten more pounds. “You need the protein, not the fats. And no
salt. When did you last see the doctor?”

“Today.” Alexi rolled her eyes. “I should have left
you at home with Jesse. Scratch that. You’re too gorgeous to leave
at home with my husband while I’m looking like a beached
whale.”

“Does Jesse have a Harley?”

“A motorcycle?”

“Yeah.”

“No, not since he was in high school.”
“Then don’t worry. Jesse is safe.” Nan picked up her glass of
water. She had to go and open her big mouth didn’t she? Now she’d
have Jackson on her mind the rest of the evening.

“My goodness, I think there’s more to the story than
Jackson said.”

Nan choked on her water. “What do you mean by that?”
she wheezed out.

“Just mentioned he gave you your first ride the
other night. Did you enjoy it?”

Nan swiped her napkin off the table and dabbed the
perspiration off her flushing brow. “It?”
“The bike.”

“Oh, the bike. Yeah, it was…great.”

“What else?” Alexi narrowed her eyes.

“Nothing else, absolutely nothing,” Nan squeaked.
“Tell me what’s going on with Jesse.”

“I think you’re lying through your teeth. Jackson
had a long talk with Jesse the day after the hospital benefit and
Jesse hasn’t left my side since.”

“I assume that this talk was about leaving you at
home alone. I have to agree with Jackson on this one. You’re too
far along in your pregnancy. Four weeks is nothing when it comes to
babies. We get women into the Labor and Deliver Department all the
time that go into labor well before their due date. We fuss because
we love you.”

“I know. I worry, too. About the baby and the
delivery and if everything will go all right. And then there’s
afterward. Will I be a good mom?”