Must Be Crazy: (Melissa and Jackson) (A Jetty Beach Romance Book 2) by Claire Kingsley

as wide as a little kid at Disneyland, and she still has a saucy comeback.
    This is definitely a good idea. I wasn’t lying when I told Melissa I have no plan. I woke up this morning and decided I was done flirting with her over fucking texts. I want her. I want her so bad I can already taste her. At this point, I probably could have fucked her twice—once on her couch, and once in her bed—but I don’t want it like that. I spent two agonizing weeks thinking about her, dreaming about her. She dug in, getting so deep under my skin I have no idea how to separate myself from her. I don’t simply want sex. I want Melissa. I want to know what’s going on behind those brown eyes, want her to tell me all her secrets with those sweet lips.
    And sure, I want to impress her along the way. Sweep her off her feet. Do something crazy and unexpected. My assistant will need to juggle some things for me, but that’s part of why I pay her so much money.
    San Diego is hardly my first choice, but the villa where I’m taking her—it’s worthy of Melissa Simon. She’s going to love it. As far as the rest of it, I figure it doesn’t matter where in the world we go. All I want is the chance to be with her—no distance, no interruptions.
    I’m going to rock her world.
    In the meantime, the anticipation is fucking delicious. I sip my Scotch, watching her. Her eyes move around the room, her finger circling the rim of her glass. She has that rare, effortless beauty, a look that’s completely natural, and so alluring. I bet she looks amazing from the moment she wakes up in the morning. She’ll linger in bed with me, letting me kiss her, touch her skin, run my fingers through her tangled hair. No getting up and rushing to the bathroom to put on makeup before I can see her. She’s incredible. I can’t take my eyes off her.
    “Why are you staring at me?” she asks.
    “Because you’re beautiful.”
    The corners of her mouth turn up ever so slightly and she sips her Scotch. “You’re crazy.”
    “A little bit.”
    I want to touch her again. Aside from putting a hand on her arm the first night we met, and helping her out of the car, I haven’t felt her skin. I kept my hand on her back, only touching her through her clothes. I did it on purpose, waiting, keeping my hand just on the edge of how a lover would caress her. Familiar, safe, only hinting at what I have in store. Soon, I’ll touch her skin again. I’m not sure if I’ll do it now, or wait until we’re on the plane. I want to draw it out, make every moment arousing.
    Not that I need help there. The constant hard-on is getting a little uncomfortable. Every time I relax, I look at her or think about getting her to that villa, and I’m instantly hard again. Fuck, she is so tempting. Part of me wants to take her somewhere—now—and fuck her blind.
    But this way is going to be so much better.
    Her hand is on the table, her fingers just brushing her glass. I shift so my hand is near hers. I touch the backs of her fingers with the tips of mine, so light. Not too much. Not yet. My hand buzzes at the feel of her skin, and she draws in a quick breath. Oh yeah, baby, I feel it too. I trail down to the back of her hand and she twitches. I get to her wrist and circle my fingers around it. So delicate. I turn her hand over, palm up, letting it rest in mine. With my other hand, I run a finger down each of hers, starting at the tip and stopping at her palm. I circle my finger around her palm, and her fingers curl up. I press my hand into hers, spreading her fingers, and rub up to her wrist. I let my fingers brush her forearm, then slide my hand back down, relishing the feel of her skin. It’s better than it was in my mind, and my cock strains against my pants.
    I think about bringing her fingers to my lips, but that will have to wait. I’m torturing myself, and hopefully her too, but I love it. This isn’t my usual style. I usually get what I want, when I want it—I’m not very good