Finding the End Zone by Tam DeRudder Jackson

Author:Tam DeRudder Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Warrior Romance Press
Published: 2023-10-24T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

Jamaica

When the person in the white mask and black hood loomed up from behind the kitchen counter, Callahan buried his face in the side of my neck and shivered.

I cracked up. “Seriously, you can’t believe this is scary.”

“It absolutely is scary,” he protested. “It’s even called Scary Movie.”

Detecting a smirk in his tone, I leaned back and caught it. “Is this one of your signature moves?”

He blinked at me. “Signature moves?” The innocent act wasn’t working with the naughty glint in his gorgeous eyes.

“Take a girl to your room, put on a horror movie, and wait for her to climb all over you to hide from the scary parts?”

“Obviously not since it’s not working with you.” He shifted on top of the comforter. “Why aren’t you scared, Island Girl?” His hand slipped beneath my sweater, a ghost of a touch whispering over my skin.

I shivered and flinched, and he pounced. “You laugh at scary movies but fear a tickle? This hypothesis requires more testing.”

With a shriek I tried to scoot away, but he was on me, his fingers finding every ticklish spot on my torso. I squeaked and squirmed, wiggled and pushed, but his busy fingers were relentless. Laughter (his) and indignant squeals (mine) filled the room as our wrestling match made a mess of the comforter atop his bed. At last, he straddled me, his hands holding mine above my head, and the mood shifted.

In the low light of his bedside lamp, I watched in fascination as his sea-blue eyes blazed down at me. His hands left mine to slip beneath my sweater again, his calloused fingertips grazing the sensitive skin of my belly, raising goose bumps in their wake. “I want you so bad, Jamaica. But if you’re not ready yet, I can wait.” His fingers stilled. “You’re worth the wait.”

The atmosphere in his bedroom crackled with the charged desire that had slowly built between us over the past couple of months. It was time to own my emotions.

“I want you too, Callahan. So much,” I whispered.

His hands slid higher. His thumbs skimming along the undersides of my breasts sent shivers through me that had nothing to do with scary movies. My nipples puckered into aching peaks. Had I anticipated this when he invited me out tonight? Is that why I only wore a camisole and no bra beneath my sweater?

His nostrils flared—my only warning before my camisole and sweater lay somewhere on the floor of his room. He leaned back a bit where he straddled my legs and ran his eyes over me, his expression simultaneously raising the hairs on my skin and flashing flames through my blood.

“Oh, fuck, you’re gorgeous, Island Girl.”

He bent down and touched the tip of his tongue to one taut nipple. I would have surged right up off the bed at the exquisite contact of his skin on mine if his hand hadn’t taken possession of my other breast. With a moan, I arched into his touch, which was all the encouragement he needed.

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