Page 50 of Kiss Marry Kill
“Okay,” she said, sitting on the bed, noting how his eyes slowly perused her body. She had felt him get hard against her while he’d been rubbing lotion on her, and remembered the way his hands lingered on her all day. His green eyes were glowing with heat and she felt the pulse on her neck strumming against her skin.
With one hand clutching the towel, she called the front desk not exactly sad to discover that all the clothing stores were closed. She didn’t exactly want clothes right now. Food, yes. Clothes? No.
It had been a great day. The best, actually. Jax brought out something within her that made her forget all her problems and focus on the moment. Maybe it was naïve of her, but with him around, she didn’t need to feel scared because he was always there—at the ready to protect her. It made her defenses drop and her thoughts linger on other things. Other . . . deliciously sexy things.
When he got out of the shower, she was sitting on the bed with her legs crossed, still wrapped in a towel, trying to watch a rerun of an old sitcom on the ancient television. “Gift shop’s already closed for the day. I hung my clothes by the AC. They’ll dry by morning.”
He hung his wet clothes next to hers and sat on the unoccupied corner of the bed, a towel wrapped around his lower half. A zing of awareness shot through her: of the flimsy towels barely covering them and the bed they’d have to share.
I’m basically naked in bed with Jax, she thought wildly.
His abs rippled, his thighs strained out of the towel. She had to adjust her own and look away—he was so damn sexy it was unnerving.
“Maybe there’s a vending machine,” he said, his heated eyes looking at her. It didn’t look like his hunger would be satisfied with food.
* * *
Fuuuck.
He wasn’t going to be able to stay away. Not with that ridiculously tiny towel, or the way she was looking at him, or the way that one drop of water she hadn’t dried off was trailing down her collarbone, or the way her nipples were . . .
“So.” Megan’s voice was breathy. “Looks like we’re stuck here for a while.”
“Looks that way.” He tried to turn his attention to the grainy television, but his eyes kept finding her—her shiny flawless skin, the swell of her breasts, her long legs tucked underneath her. Being trapped in this small hotel room—a small hotel room with one bed—was playing havoc with his concentration.
“Um, tell me more about the last five years. You still go to the baseball games? How’s your mom?”
Huh? Baseball? Baseball . . . it took him a moment to remember what the term meant, he was so out of it. “I’ve only been able to go to one of the openers since and it was in the new stadium. Wasn’t the same. Not at all.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty huge, isn’t it?”
“So you’ve gone?”
“A few times.” Megan said absently, digging through her purse before looking up triumphantly with a few snacks clutched in her hand. “Nourishment!”
Jax caught the bar she tossed with a small smile and a lazy flick of his wrist.
“What else has happened in the last five years?”
“Not much. Well, Mom died a few years ago.”
“What?” she shrieked.
“Yeah, it was bad. Car accident.”
“Jax, I’m so sorry.”
“Yeah, I don’t really talk about it much. I wasn’t here when it happened.” He shrugged, uncomfortable with the conversation. “Let’s talk about something else.”
“Uh . . . okay. Um, any girlfriends?”
“A few. Nothing that stuck.”
“Why’s that?” she asked, playing with the end of the tattered white towel.
“Hard to have a relationship when you’re not in town.”
“Right. Makes sense.”
