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drying on her skin. Shower. That’s all he needed to clear his head, he thought. A shower.
    He could get up right now, and walk right out that door. Hell, his house wasn’t far away, and the water was nice and cold there. He knew that for a fact.
    He shifted to move away from her. He had everything figured out until his betraying flesh slid across slick, silky flesh. He closed his eyes on a groan and settled between her thighs once again instead. Okay, so the cold shower could wait.
    He rubbed his face against her full, hard-tipped breasts. They were gorgeous.
    Round and firm, with little pink nipples that tempted him as surely as anything could.
    Like pretty raspberries, all prime and ripe and ready to pluck. His tongue stroked one softly.
    “Again?” There was surprise in her voice. That crisp, stern Yankee accent was shocked, but growing husky with the return of heat.
    Who would have thought his Pixie Pest would return with that upright starch in her voice that made her sound so damned untouchable? It made his libido stand up and howl in hunger.
    “This is the South, sugar,” he whispered with a smile, allowing his country twang to deepen to a slow drawl. “We aim to do it right.”
    “I believe you did it pretty damn right the first time,” she gasped, as his lips pulled at one little berry with a teasing caressing.
    “I’m sure I can improve.” He smiled against her flesh.
    22
    Moving Violations
    “Improve?” Her sexy green-gold eyes widened incredulously and she bit her plump lower lip. “God help me,” she murmured, her longs fingers fisting in the sheets at her sides as she arched her head back against the pillow, pushing her breasts closer to his mouth.
    Damn, she was responsive. Her breath hitched, suspended, then released on a low moan of pleasure as he transferred his attention to her other nipple.
    “Oh, that feels good.” She seemed surprise as he drew on just the tight bud of nerves tempting his lips and tongue. He went no further. He just touched her nipple, laving it, worrying it gently between his teeth, listening to the strangled gasps that issued from her throat.
    “Someone was in a hurry earlier,” he teased her as he kissed the darkening flesh.
    “We take things slow here, darlin’. Nice and easy, so we can savor every experience.
    Remember?”
    She arched languidly in his arms, a small, whimpering moan escaping her lips as his tongue rasped over her again, then he drew her nipple into his mouth, suckling at it slow and easy. The hard little point throbbed beneath his lips, tightening and stabbing at his tongue in needy greed.
    “This is savoring?” she asked in breathless amazement. “God, Jackson, this is torture.”
    But she struggled to lie still beneath him, her hands gripping his shoulders as he sipped and sucked at her breasts, loving the taste of the berry firmness as she arched against him.
    “Torture?” he asked her gently, smiling when her little nails bit into the tough skin of his upper arms, and her thighs shifted against his, her hips grinding against the thigh he pressed to her hot center. Damn, the woman was like fire in his arms. Like pure lava, melting and flowing from her core, dampening his thigh with a liquid plea.
    “Jackson, I don’t know if I can stand this,” she panted harshly, her hands reaching to spear into his hair as he licked from her nipple to her neck.
    His let his teeth rasp the sensitive skin at her collar bone, then lick at it with a slow swipe as he tasted the smooth sweetness to be found there. She tossed her head, groaning as he pressed his thigh against her drenched mound, allowing her to ride it as her hips rose and fell in demand. Unable to resist that long lovely neck flushed with heat from her arousal, his mouth devoured her, sucking and licking the warm silky skin of her throat. His hand caressed her breast, gently lifting, molding, squeezing, rasping her hard nipple against his palm. He felt the rumble of her groan against his