He hesitated. “Yes,” he finally said, his voice tight...but also husky with need. “I like when you touch me.”

She shivered. Finally they were getting somewhere. “That makes two of us.” He’d once accused her of adding crack to her casseroles, but she thought it might just lace his skin. When she wasn’t touching him, she wanted to touch him. And when her hands were actually on him, she wanted them everywhere all at once.

He picked her up by the waist, and she had to straddle his lap for balance. The move did more than thrill her physically. It told her beyond any doubt that they weren’t over, not by a long shot, and she eagerly pressed into him.

Playing with the ends of his hair, she said, “Thank you for my lessons today.”

“Who taught you to play?” He flicked her hair over one shoulder, but she quickly brought it back into place. He frowned then tried to flick it again, but again, she moved it to cover her ears. She might have let him kiss around the devices in the heat of passion, but after their abysmal finish she wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

“My uncle taught me,” she said, some of her old resentment rising up. “He had a new lesson for Jessie Kay and me every time he babysat us, before my mom died. But since he always kept whatever allowance he won, we learned fast.”

“He kept your allowance? That’s harsh.”

“Also effective.”

Jase leaned in and placed a soft kiss against the hammering pulse at the base of her neck. “You got any more surprises for me?”

“Just one. This.” She placed two fingers under his chin and lifted his head, then pressed her lips to his.

He opened immediately, and their tongues thrust together. Desire sizzled through her...sultry, heady. Drugging. Fogging her mind and giving her one purpose: more pleasure.

“Everyone should experience a kiss like this at least once in a lifetime,” he said.

“Yes.” Every inch of her body was engaged, humming and vibrating with need, burning deliciously. “They just have to be prepared to want more.”

“You want more?” Jase stroked the ridges of her spine, a gentle caress before cupping her bottom and yanking her the rest of the way forward, until they were locked together. Her softest part grinding against his hardest.

She gasped at the sensation.

“I like the sounds you make,” he said, the words nothing more than a growl. He arched his hips, rubbing against her dampening core.

She balanced on her knees to try to gain a little control. Then she arched against him, rubbing harder...up and down. “I love the way you make me feel.”

He grabbed her by the hips, stilling her. “Only me.” His fingers flexed on her. “No one else.”

It was as if he’d penetrated her in a single thrust, so strongly did she react to those words.

He urged her into a slow grind against his erection, the friction off-the-charts erotic. Then he slid his fingers into her hair and fisted the strands to angle her head...and take her mouth in a soul-searing kiss.

His hands moved to her breasts, kneading, thrumming her nipples. And when he had her gasping incoherently, straining to get closer to him, pulling at his shirt to get it out of her way, he unsnapped her shorts and tunneled his fingers inside...under her panties.

“My angel is so hot and wet,” he praised, practically purring with masculine satisfaction—and then he thrust a finger deep inside her.

“More. Please, more,” she whispered, lifting to give him better access. The whoosh of the back door being opened barely registered.

“Jase. Dude.”

But Beck’s voice did register—like a hammer— intruding on the private moment.

“I’m sorry to bother you guys, but I’m desperate.”

Brook Lynn stiffened, momentarily blinded by panic. Caught with a guy’s hand in my cookie jar! But the wide expanse of Jase’s chest prevented Beck from seeing anything he shouldn’t, and the panic faded...the pleasure once again making itself known.

“West and Jessie Kay are about to kill each other,” Beck said.

“Not now,” Jase snapped. He’d stopped moving in her, and oh...oh...dying here!

Do not writhe on him.

“Yes, now,” Beck said. “Nothing I’ve done has helped.”

“I should take her home,” she managed, her tone breathless, her inner walls clamping on his finger. Inside she wept.

Gritting his teeth, gaze still locked on Brook Lynn, Jase called, “Give me five minutes.”

“I don’t think we have five minutes. I’m predicting a murder-suicide in less than one.” But the door whooshed shut.

Slowly Jase withdrew his finger, and she had to bite her tongue to stop her moan of remorse. As she watched, he put the finger in his mouth and sucked; this time she couldn’t stop her moan from escaping—this one of ultimate pleasure.

“I like the taste of you,” he said. “Pure, sweet honey.”

Shivers danced through her.

“I don’t want you to go,” he said, expression one of absolute torture.

“It’s for the best.” Maybe. Probably. If she stayed, she wasn’t sure what would come of the make-out session. Would he stop short like the other night? Or would they go all the way? And if they did, would he ever want her again?

Might as well end on a positive note, eager for more of each other.

He pursed his lips. “Why?”

“Because. Just because.” After all, this was a war for his affections, not just a single battle. She refastened her shorts and stood to shaky legs. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Jase.”