My chest flushed with heat as I pictured what they were staring at. “Sure hope that’s not your safeword since I plan to make you scream that before the night is over.” Warm hands caressed the flesh of my rear. “Safeword?” Jackson asked again, dragging his palm up my spine. “Trench coat.” The words came out on a wisp of air, barely audible, but they echoed through my entire body, resonating between my thighs. At his slightest touch, liquid heated in my sex, spilling from between my pussy lips. Preparing for him. Aching for him. “Very good, Skye.” Blood rushed to my head, from my slightly downcast position. Our attraction sizzled and arced between us as he squatted in front of me. The multihued golden color of his hair reflected the glow from the Christmas lights around my fists. He wore black leather pants but no shirt. With his fingers clasped in front of him and his elbows planted on his knees, he balanced on the balls of his feet. He was the predator and I, the prey caught in his snare.
