Moving away slightly, Jackson was still above her. “Why should I let you go now? Tell me that you’ll quit fussing first!”
Tiffany’s hand went to Jackson’s head and gave it a rough rub. “No! I don’t feel good! I need to vent!”
With his breath choked from the touch, as no woman had dared touch his hair yet, Jackson’s gaze darkened. He pinned her troublesome hands above her head and said, “The worst it can get is falling in your hands. You provoked me first, don’t regret it.”
Before Tiffany could fight back, Jackson closed the distance between their lips. It had been light kisses earlier, but he deepened them this time. Tugging at the belt of Tiffany’s bathrobe, he saw that Tiffany looked rather petite in the large robe. Jackson’s rational mind came back in the last moment as he asked in a low tone, “You and Ethan, have you...?”
Tiffany shook her head vehemently. “No! We didn’t get to... Not before our first breakup... Not now either...”
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