Page 95 of The Jack*ss in Class

And melt I did. Right into a puddle of goo.

Sweet baby Jesus, what was my name again?

His hand bunched up one side of my dress, a thumb peeking underneath, barely caressing the skin of my upper thigh. He broke the kiss, brushing his lips across mine as I tried so hard to find where my breath had gone. “I want your dress off. I’ve been dying to see what you look like in nothing but a few scraps of lingerie.”

I swallowed, then nodded. My bra and panties weren’t exactly fancy lingerie, but they did match and had bits of lace on them. I’d picked them out special, just to feel sexy, not really knowing if he’d ever see them. Now I very much wanted him to see every stitch. “Take it off.”

His fingers were warm as they slipped beneath the fabric, skimming up my stomach, over my chest and shoulders. Slowly, reverently, he unwrapped me like a gift, his eyes taking in every inch of exposed skin with suchopen appreciation that not once did I feel the urge to cover myself or hide from his gaze.

“You’re better than every fucking wet dream I’ve ever had,” he murmured, his voice almost awed. “So soft, and lush.”

No one had ever looked at me the way Flynn did, like I was everything he’d ever wanted. Not like an afterthought or the ugly duckling, but like I was exactly right, exactly as I should be.

He dropped the dress to the floor, and I stood before him, bare and vulnerable. His eyes traveled over me, leaving heat in their wake. “I’m going to worship every inch of your body, my queen.”

“Yes,” I said, gaining courage from the desire in his eyes. “But first, it’s my turn.”

“God, you are such a turn on. Take your turn with me, sweet storm of mine.”

My hands were clumsy finding the hem of his still-damp shirt. He raised his arms obligingly, letting me pull it over his head. Water droplets traced paths down his torso, and I followed their journey with my fingers, exploring the ridges and planes of him.

I could write sonnets about how gorgeous he was, a whole soliloquy to that vee of muscles at his waist, an ode to that tempting swatch of hair at his belly that dipped below his belt, the one that tempted me to touch, and follow it down, down, down.

He stood perfectly still, letting me take my time, though I could see the tension in his muscles, feel the restraint in his shallow breathing. My hands moved to hisbelt, fumbling slightly with the buckle. Flynn’s hands covered mine, steadying them.

“No rush,” he murmured. “We have all night.”

Together we undid his belt, then the button of his jeans. I slid the zipper down, feeling him hard beneath the fabric. Heat flooded my cheeks, but I didn’t look away. No, I pushed the wet denim down his legs, kneeling to help him step out of them.

The pure, unadulterated need on his face as he looked down at me on my knees in front of him gave me a surge of feelings I’d never in my life experienced before. I... I think it was a sense of feminine power. The knowledge that I was everything he wanted and more.

Only with him. He was the only one who I ever wanted to make me feel that way.

I ran my hands up his thighs, feeling the powerful muscles tense beneath my touch. The bulge in the front of his boxer briefs grew even bigger, and I bit my lip, staring up at him.

“You’re shivering,” he said, his own voice not entirely steady.

“I’m not cold,” I admitted. “Just... nervous.”

His expression softened. “Nothing has to happen, Tempest. Remember, you can say stop at any time. We’ll crawl under those blankets and simply keep each other warm. We’ll sleep or talk or?—”

“What if I want something to happen?”

His eyes widened slightly, then darkened with heat. His hand came down to cradle my chin, his touch impossibly gentle. “Then we go as slow as you need. And you tell me what you want, every step of the way.”

“I want to see you. All of you,” I whispered. “But I’ve never...” I started, then stopped, embarrassment washing over me.

“I know,” he said simply.

I wanted to look away, but I couldn’t. I was captured in his gaze.

He brushed a strand of hair from my face. “You told me after our first kiss, and it doesn’t scare me, Tempest. I told you I want to be the one who gets to do all of your firsts with you.”

“Even if I have no idea what I’m doing?” That was definitely not what I wanted to be thinking about right now.

“Yeah.” His thumb traced my lower lip, sending shivers down my spine. “It means you trust me. And trust like that is sexy as hell.”

His words eased something inside me, a knot of anxiety I hadn’t fully acknowledged. I did trust him, and he was trusting me in return. He was right. That was sexy as hell.

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