Beneath the Silk (15 page)

He started to go, then stopped again. “How’s your back? You look like you’re moving better.”

“Better. Yes … much better. Go.”

“I’ll start dinner.”

“No, start packing.” She slammed the door shut and locked it. A second later, the pile of silk on the bed was on the floor, and Sunni was sprawled on the comforter sucking on two sugar cubes at one time and holding a roll of Life Savers.

Chapter 9

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”
W
hat are you doing out here?” Jackson stood in the doorway of Sunni’s greenhouse and watched her snip at a large potted rose bush at the end of her worktable with a pair of silver garden shears. Around and above her hung baskets of roses in a dozen different colors. They were pretty and smelled good, but he knew for a fact that nothing and no one smelled better than Sunni Blais.

He knew because he’d been sleeping with her right under his nose for two nights and her exotic scent had been permanently burned into his memory.

“What’s going on, Sis? You’ve been quiet all evening. You didn’t say two words at the kitchen table. What’s the matter, you don’t like steak?”

“It was very good.”

“Wine too dry? Next time I go shopping, want to come along?”

She kept working with her back to him, the scissors making fast little snipping noises. Something was definitely bothering her, and Jackson intended to find out what it was. If she was still angry with him for refusing to move out, they were going to have to come to some kind of an understanding, because he wasn’t going to gamble with her life a second time.

She turned, her face as serious as he’d ever seen it. She had on a slippery silk dress—another super-soft nut buster. It was open at the neck and short sleeved—a garden party of colors on a white background. Shorter than her work skirts, it showed off more leg above the knees than her father would have approved of.

The dress was free-moving … loose. It would be easy to get underneath. Yeah, that’s what he’d thought about the minute he’d seen her come out of the bedroom wearing it, when he’d knocked on her door and told her that dinner was ready.

And while they sat across from each other at the table, he’d kept wondering what color her panties were, or if they covered her perfect backside. His lusty thoughts had turned him stone hard and he’d stayed that way throughout dinner.

He was still hard an hour later.

“You didn’t need to buy groceries.”

“The coffee supply was getting low. You know me and my morning coffee. Your juice, too. And with us moving in—”

“This isn’t going to work.”

“Sure it will, Sis. Something will open up with the case before long.”

“That’s not what I’m talking about and you know it.”

That look said it all. They’d been dancing all night—side-stepping each other in the kitchen, trying to clean up the table and dirty dishes without touching each other. She’d caught him staring at her more than once, and he’d caught her doing the same.

The truth was, he wanted to get it on with her and she knew it. And just maybe she wanted to get it on with him, too. He had mixed emotions about that. She was the boss’s daughter, and for both their sakes he’d hoped that his hard-on disgusted her. That if he got too close, she’d drive the point home with her knee—sometimes what a man needed most was a direct blow to the area that was causing him the most trouble and overriding his good judgment. And right now what he wanted most was to get his hands underneath that loose-fitting dress.

“You’re staring, Jack—”

“And liking what I see.”

She hung the shears on a hook, then lifted the plant off the table and put it back in its place. “I think you should go watch TV or, better yet, pack up your stuff and—”

“You know I can’t do that.”

She leaned against the table, resting her hands on either side of her hips. She gave him a brazen shakedown that took in all of him, her eyes unblinking when they settled on his crotch.

“That’s right, Sis. I’m wearing my feelings tonight. It’s not news, though, is it?”

Her mouth parted and she exhaled a breathy sigh. “No, it’s not news.”

Jackson took one step into the greenhouse. “It looks as if I’m not the only one displaying his feelings tonight. The twins are putting on quite a show.”

“You think it’s because of you?”

“You saying different? Saying it’s the chilly night air? Could be. It’s cool tonight.” He took another step toward her. “It would be for the best if that was the case. Say it, Sis. Tell me it’s the night air and I’ll head for the shower. That way we’ll save ourselves from making a serious mistake.”

“And that’s what it would be? A mistake?”

“Pretty much.”

She drew her lower lip into her mouth and closed her eyes. She was doing battle with the situation, weighing the
mistake.

Jackson swore, then took the last three steps. She had to have heard him, had to have felt his heat—the temperature in the greenhouse had tripled in a minute’s time. But she didn’t open her eyes, didn’t stop sucking on her lower lip.

He covered her hands where they gripped the edge of the table on either side of her and leaned in.

“Jack…”

He dipped his head and boldly inhaled her special scent, deliberately brushing his cheek against hers. “I like how you smell.” He gently pushed her head back by hooking his nose beneath her chin. Her head fell back, offering him her throat. Jackson felt like attacking her, moving in fast and taking everything all at once. But he also wanted to savor the moment, to listen and watch her reaction to everything he did to her.

He brushed his lips over her neck where her pulse beat wildly, then trailed kisses to her collarbone. He felt her shudder and it energized him. Slowly he moved back up her neck, kissing an inch at a time. When he reached her ear, he changed course and outlined her delicate jaw with more of the same.

“Jack,” she said again, her voice shaky.

“How ‘bout it, Sis? We gonna get to know each other better? Or are you gonna put me in my place pretty quick before it’s too late?”

He stepped back and waited for her eyes to open. When they blinked open and her head moved back to look at him, she said, “And if I was going to put you in your place, Jack, how would I do that?”

“Your knee moving upward oughta take care of it.”

“And if I decided we should get to know each other better?”

He studied her face, her sultry gray eyes. “Either way, it’s your move.”

“Let my hands go, Jack.”

Jackson released her hands, unsure what was going to come next. Likely her knee, hard and fast. Way to go, fool, he chastised himself. Give her the ammo, then just stand there and let her fire away.

He waited, braced himself the best he could for a frontal attack, only it came from a different direction. Instead of bringing her knee up, she straightened and stepped around him. She circled him twice, stopping behind him the second time.

“What are you doing, Sis?”

“Moving. Isn’t that what you said I should do, make my move?” She came around him once more, and this time she was smiling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sweat, Jack. You hot?”

“You know I’m burning up.”

“I’ve been watching you for days, Jack. Looking you over from all angles.”

“That makes two of us.”

“Yes, I know.”

“And?”

“And I really do like looking at you, Jack.”

“Me, I’m partial to touching. Maybe we can incorporate the two.”

“Maybe.”

She circled him once more, and she was still smiling when she landed in front of him again. Unable to keep up the verbal game without getting his hands in on the action, Jackson clasped her around the waist, lifted her off her feet and set her on the end of the worktable. Face-to-face, his hands settled on her thighs. Slowly, his fingers turned inward and spread her legs wide. He stepped into the open vee a moment later. “This is a change,” he said huskily. “Me between your legs instead of the other way around.”

Their eyes locked.

Time lagged.

She leaned forward and settled her hands on his chest, stared at his mouth. “In case you’re wondering, Jack, I’m making my move. Is it too subtle?”

He grinned, his arms sliding around her, one hand going high, the other low. The high one popped the clip that held her hair off her neck, and her shiny black hair tumbled around her face. The low hand urged her hips forward slightly so her open thighs brushed his. Then he was kissing her, eating at her mouth, licking her lips, nipping her chin. He heard her sigh, felt her shiver. He took her sweet breath into his mouth and then gave it back to her in an even hotter kiss.

Her hands were no longer flat on his chest, but working open the buttons on his shirt. He stopped kissing her long enough to pull his shirt free of his jeans, then watched as her hands shoved the edges wide.

She closed her eyes as her fingers threaded through the hair on his chest. She moaned softly, her tiny fingers flexing and stroking, as if touching him had been some kind of long-awaited hungry need she’d been wrestling with in private. The idea undid him. He’d never experienced anything like the feelings that were suddenly storming his insides.

He leaned forward and kissed her, peeled her dress off her shoulders and let it fall to her waist. “Hell, Sis,” he groaned, then dipped his head and kissed the swell of each ripe naked breast.

“Jack…”

In short order, his hands followed his mouth, adoring her firm, hot flesh, plucking at her nipples with his fingers and stroking the underside of each breast. He moved the heels of his hands along her rib cage and curved his fingers around her fullness. Drawing her breasts together, he dropped his head and sank his face into her sweet flesh. “Smother me, please,” he breathed into her deep cleavage, enjoying the sweet scent of her and the sound of her moaning in pleasure. In answer, he used his tongue and teeth to drive her further over the edge—licked and nipped and suckled until each rosy nipple was a solid stone.

She arched her back in silent approval, sending a surge of hungry heat straight into Jackson’s groin. His hands found the hem of her dress and he slid it up her thighs, slipped his fingers underneath.

She lay back on the table, her body anxious, her eyes closed. He shoved up her dress, exposed her slender thighs and virgin-white panties. His hands slid beneath her, rewarded with the feel of warm flesh. The knowledge made him groan as he cupped her bare bottom and lowered his mouth to her quivering flat stomach. His hot breath moved over her as his lips adored her. He circled her navel, then dipped his tongue inside.

Her hips lifted, and she whimpered. In answer, he moved his mouth lower and kissed her mons through her tiny thong. The gesture had her crying out and lifting her hips off the table. “Easy, baby,” Jackson whispered, dropping his head to taste more of her.

She was moaning and panting when his cell phone rang. The crazy musical sound it made bounced off the walls of the greenhouse like a fire alarm. He released her and straightened, his gaze locking on her passion-glazed eyes, then on her heaving breasts.

The phone set off again. He swore, then reached into his pocket and retrieved it. As he continued to stare at her, he flipped it open, checked his own breathing, then said, “Ward here.”

“I thought you were going to e-mail me today.”

Clide.
Jackson watched Sunni draw her lower lip into her mouth, her cheeks as rosy as her aroused taut nipples.

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Damn close. I’m supposed to be asleep within the hour. That nurse I’ve got carries a pitchfork, along with her stethoscope. I swear she works for the devil. If I’m not asleep in twenty minutes, she’ll be back in here to raise some hell.”

“Nothing news-breaking to report. Go to sleep and I’ll e-mail you in the morning.” Jackson still hadn’t broken eye contact with Sunni. She hadn’t moved, not an inch, her dress still bunched at her waist, the dark curls between her thighs visible beneath her white panties.

“So, where you at? My baby girl safe from the wolves tonight? You doing your job protecting her from those unconscionable bastards? You ain’t laying down on the job, are you?”

Clide’s words struck Jackson between the eyes, then kicked him in the gut. Then in the ass. He reacted by backing up and turning his back on Sunni. He said, “She’s fine, Chief. Safe from the wolves.”

“How’s Mac doing? Is he worth feeding, or will you be looking for a new partner once you get back?”

“He’s coming around.”

“Hell, I think I hear that she-devil with the pitchfork coming. Don’t forget to e-mail me in the morning.”

When the phone went dead, Jackson slid it back in his pocket, then turned to find Sunni standing, her dress back on her shoulders and her thighs covered.

“My father?”

Jackson nodded. “Listen, that call was fate giving us both a reality check. Your father’s timing—”

“Stinks.”

Jackson swore, then shot a hand through his hair. “I’m here to clean up a mess, not make an even bigger one.”