Perfect Gravity by Vivien Jackson

Author:Vivien Jackson
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sourcebooks
Published: 2017-08-31T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Um, the words. Right.” Her perfect memory whirred, replaying their whole conversation so far, all of it. It took her a while, but she finally caught the thread and recited it: “I wish to fuck that…”

“Back up,” he interrupted. “Just four.”

“I wish to fuck?”

“Them’s the ones.” He held her gaze but didn’t so much as twitch in her general direction. The space between them crackled with potential energy. “Do you?”

Did she…wish to fuck?

Yes, oh God yes. Holy batfuck yes. Every nerve in her body went live, and she struggled to contain a shudder. No use, though. She nodded, scuffing her hairpiece against the seatback.

“Yes,” she said, not surprised her voice came out on a whisper. “But here’s the problem. I promised myself I wouldn’t paw you without permission on this trip. I want you to know I don’t think you’re easy or easily taken advantage of. I want you to know that I myself have dealt with…”

He was panther-silent and just that fast across the console, framing her face in his big hands, pressing his mouth to hers, warmth to warmth, creating a point of white-hot synchrony. She was too startled even to open her lips. His kiss was impossibly sweet.

“Shh, princess,” he murmured against her mouth, around the edges of that kiss. “You don’t need to explain anything else to me. And you for damn sure got my permission.”

He was wrong; she did need to explain. She really did. But what she needed even more was this, his hands on her body, his touch. Oh God, the touching. She soaked it up like vitamin D, vital, necessary, the sort of thing that made her ill with its lack. Now an ocean of it poured over her, and she waded through the onslaught of bliss. She let it knock her over and wash all her best intentions away.

He tasted perfect, man and heat and want. Desert sand and library binding glue. Okay, maybe she didn’t really know what binding glue tasted like, but all those delicious things they’d done in the library were seared on her brain, and studies had shown that taste and smell were strongly related, so if she recalled the one, the other followed automatically. Wasn’t that how the synaesthetes all said it worked?

Also…he had stopped. What?

She opened her eyes to find him staring at her, still with that nipple-perking slow-sugar smile, but now a shadow of concern had drifted over his face. It fell between them. Well, that was not acceptable.

“You went away for a while,” he said.

“I’m sorry. I do that sometimes. All the thoughts… Know what? Let’s start over. I can do this right.” She could. Had she not been trained in this exact thing? Not in sex performance, per se, but in making her body fit her thoughts and making both of those fit her emotions. Forcing the symmetry. Making others believe. She was good at it. Best of the best. Queen of the world.

“Are you worried about the car still? ’Cause I have it on good authority that letting the control rig take us in is perfectly safe.

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