Wishes for Tomorrow. Brenda Jackson

Wishes for Tomorrow - Brenda Jackson


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it on the windowsill.

      Then she looked up, met his gaze and said in a soft, barely audible voice the exact same words he’d spoken to her. “You give. I take. No regrets.”

      Her words touched an inner coil within him, made desire drum through his entire body at a pace that had him breathing in deeply.

      He took another step toward her and heard himself groan low in his throat at the same moment he reached out and pulled her into his arms. And with a hunger that he felt all the way to his toes, he lowered his mouth as she parted her lips. The connection was explosive, and sensations rocked through him as his mouth greedily took hers, desire flooding him from all corners and settling in his body part right below his belt.

      His hands tightened around her waist when she began to tremble in his arms, and she kissed him back in a way that made everything within him, every single molecule, feel new, revitalized and energized. He couldn’t recall the last time he had feasted on a woman’s mouth the way he was feasting on hers.

      He didn’t want to take the time to pause to pull air into his lungs. He just wanted to keep kissing her, continue pressing against her middle to let her feel the hard, solid evidence of just what she was doing to him, how she was making him respond.

      The kiss went on, seemed unending until the cell phone in his pants pocket sounded. Of all the times to get a damn signal, he thought, and for a moment he refused to release her mouth, needing to ply it over and over again with strokes of his tongue, although each flick inside her mouth was causing his muscles to contract in a way they had never contracted before.

      He hoped the phone would stop ringing but when it didn’t, he reluctantly pulled his mouth away from hers, after he’d swept his tongue against her already moist lips.

      The ringing had ceased by the time he snatched the phone from his pocket and saw the missed call was a text from Ramsey. He checked the message and it said one word. Bane. Dillon gritted his teeth, wondering what the hell his baby brother had gotten into now.

      He glanced over at Pam and thought at that moment he really didn’t care, since Ramsey’s message had interrupted the most passionate kiss of his entire life. Never had a kiss left him with his senses spiraling out of control and his entire body feeling like it had been torched into flames.

      He knew Pam had been as affected by the kiss as he had. She seemed to be trying to pull herself together. They had done more than just grasped the moment, they had taken total control of it in a way that had them both still scraping for breath.

      He watched as she slowly moved away from him to return to the window. She gazed out and he couldn’t help wondering if she had reneged and now had regrets. He tensed, refusing to let her off his hook that easily. “Come to my hotel room tonight, Pam.”

      She swirled around and met his gaze but before she could open her mouth to say a single word, he reached out, pulled her back into his arms and took control of her mouth all over again.

      The last time, he had kissed her with a need. This time it was with desperation. He refused to let her incriminate herself in any way, and if kissing her was the way to keep it from happening, then so be it. He would stand here and ply her mouth with his kisses forever if that’s what he had to do.

      A short while later, when he finally released her mouth, she looked somewhat dazed and her lips appeared slightly swollen. He lifted his hand and pushed her hair from her face, tempted beyond reason to sink his mouth onto hers again. Just the thought of doing so made his hand tremble. He hoped she knew this wasn’t the end. Just the beginning.

      And to make sure of it, he repeated the words he’d said earlier. “Come to my hotel room tonight, Pam.”

      Again she looked up and met his gaze. Her lashes fluttered just seconds before she replied, “No.”

      But before his heart could drop to the floor, she added, “Mr. Davis, the owner of the hotel, knows me, so that won’t be a good idea. However, my drama school is only a few blocks away on Durand Street. Will you come there?”

      He nodded quickly. “What time?”

      “Eight,” she said almost in a whisper. “I have a class tonight and everyone should be gone by then.”

      A moment of silence purred between them and then she searched his eyes. “So, will you come?”

      A smile touched his lips and he reached out and stroked her cheek with the back of his hand, leaned closer to her and responded in a low, husky voice, “Sweetheart, nothing short of death is going to keep me away from you tonight.”

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