The Impact of You by Kendall Ryan

I make my way through the crowd. I thought they were anti-Jase, but now they’re plotting to bring us together. And though I’ve wanted to see him since I first got here, now I suddenly need a minute. It was sweet of him to make sure we got into the party okay, and I realize I should thank him. I think I like his sweet side. But when I finally stop in front of him, sweet Jase is nowhere to be found. His gaze is deep and penetrating, and I can’t help but think he looks angry about something. Really angry.
    “Jase?” I question, my mouth suddenly dry.
    “Come with me.” He interlaces our fingers and tugs me toward the stairs. We fight our way through the crowd with Jase leading the way. He keeps my hand tightly locked in his until we reach the door to the stairwell. He produces a set of keys, unlocks it, then guides me up, keeping his hand at the small of my back as I ascend the stairs in front of him.
    What the heck is wrong with him? I came to his stupid party, even dressed the part. Why does he look like someone murdered his puppy? He doesn’t say a word, but his firm hand curls around my hip as he guides me toward the attic. 
    When we reach his bedroom, he firmly closes the door behind us, before slowly turning to face me. His deep blue eyes radiate intensity, and his expression is nothing like the relaxed, friendly look I’m used to. My blood pumps wildly in my chest, my pulse keeping pace with the beat of the music I can hear faintly from downstairs.
    He strips his jacket from his shoulders, and tosses it on a chair beside the door before yanking the knot of his black tie to loosen it, then works on his shirtsleeves. His once crisp white shirt is now undone at the neck and rolled to his elbows. I stand there, feeling over-exposed and confused.
    He stalks toward me, caging me in against the wall, his hands resting near my head. I can see the veins in his forearms straining against the skin, and his hands are curled into fists. 
    “Jase?”
    “I was afraid of this.” His voice is low, rough.
    “W-what?” I stumble over the simple word with him so close. I can feel his warm breath on my lips, his body heat, and the raw sexiness oozing off him.
    “Avery, look at you.” His eyes lower, sending me into a full-body blush.
    “What?” It’s apparently the only word in my vocabulary.
    He meets my eyes and his expression softens, the anger I sensed earlier giving way to something else entirely. “You’re stunning. So lovely.” His hand cups my jaw and his thumb softly brushes against my skin. “You look amazing in jeans and a T-shirt. In this, you look downright sinful.”
    “Jase…” I whimper.
    “You’re going to kill me with that outfit, doll.”
    I look down at myself and frown. “I’m sorry…” I tug at the shorts again, as if sheer will make them longer.
    “Fuck, babe. Don’t be sorry.” Jase’s eyes search mine, asking for what, I don’t know.
    But he can have it. Anything he wants.
    God, I hate myself.
    His hand leaves my jaw only to trail down my throat with gentle pressure. The simple contact steals my breath and desire races through my system. Jase is making me feel things I swore I wouldn’t. Shouldn’t. Can’t.
    “Where have you been hiding these beaut ies?” His fingertip glides along the tops of my breasts, brushing along the edge of the lace.
    Apparently Jase has discovered my boobs. “Boobs are icky,” I blurt. Kill me now.
    His mouth twitches at my comment. “I disagree. There’s nothing icky about you, babe.” His voice is thick and I’m wondering where the hell cool, confident Jase has gone because the guy in front of me is all nerves and intensity.
    His hand slide s down my spine, pulling me closer. My body responds as if saying, yes I’m yours. My chin turns up, my tongue dampens my lips, and my pelvis tilts toward his all in a heartbeat’s time. Jase’s head drops so our lips are aligned, but he doesn’t go any farther. His breathing is shallow, too fast,