Page 33 of Black Flag

I grinned, lowering mylegs from his waist and sliding down along his hard body.

He groaned, pressing aquick kiss to my lips. “I missed you,”

Though it had only beenless than a half hour that he was gone doing his interview with Track Pass, Istill missed him.

He pressed his hipsinto mine, a smile tugging at his lips as he stepped back. “Yeah, been a wholetwenty minutes.”

“What?” I pouted,pretending to be hurt. “You didn’t miss me?”

He put his hands on mywaist, under my shirt, pressing his body along the length of mine. I wascrushed between him and the side of the motor coach.

“I missed you everyminute...” he breathed, nuzzlingmy jaw and licking my lower lip. “Every second,” His tongue lapped behind myteeth, soft, hot, and wet. “I was away from you,” He fisted his hand in my hairand deepened the kiss. He missed me all right.

“Hmm,” I articulatedgoing limp in his arms.

He threw his head backand laughed. “Come on Joanie, I wanna take you somewhere.”

“Lead the wayChachi.” I rolled my eyes, gathering my will and wigglingfrom his arms.

I felt him come upclose behind me, pulling my hair to one side, exposing my neck. “You’ll likeit, I promise,” he murmured sucking on the skin at the juncture of my shoulderand neck. Goosebumps erupted all over my body.

“You just think you’rehot shit, don’t you?” I teased as he walked me to the golf cart in front of hismotor coach.

“What can I say?” Hissmirk was smug and arrogant. “You just bring it out in me. It’s your fault,really.”

It took all of mymeager control not to drop his pants right there in the drivers compound andgive him the best mother loving micro polishing he’d ever had. Only the factthe media would be all over that stopped me from doing it. It would be worth itfor the look on his face. He wouldn’t be so smug then, would he? I gave asuperior sniff, lifting my chin and swept into the golf cart.

He waited until I wasseated before he came around the other side.

I watched unabashedlyas he walked around leering at me as he slid hisOakleysunglasses halfwaydown his nose and then winked.

Jameson slid inside,turning the key in the ignition and grinning at me. He raised one brow over theframes of the sunglasses. I glared and rolled my eyes at the game he wasplaying with me.

He just smiled, turninghis attention to the parking lot.

Out of the corner of myeye, I noticed the hand that wasn’t on the wheel rise up to run languidlyacross his chest.

I narrowed my eyes insuspicion. I knew what he was doing. That hand then slid across his chest andslowly down his stomach. He rubbed his belly lazily, back and forth, from onehip to the other. I had turned to face him, distracted. His face was perfectlybland as his hand lowered to slowly run along his camshaft, pausing to give afirm squeeze and then stroked himself once.

“Stop that!”

“Ah honey,” He tippedhis head toward me. “youknow you want it.”

“You suck.”

“Well,youcould.” He gestured south with his eyes. “I’m up for it, as you can see.”

“You wish.”

“Yeah, I do,” hemuttered, lifting his hips slightly to adjust himself keeping one hand on thewheel.

I licked my lips again,he slowed going over a speed bump.

“You stopthat,”he growled.

“Ah honey, you know youwant me.” I mimicked licking my lips once more for the hell of it.

“I want you badly.” Hegrinned. “Always do.”

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