“Morning,” he rumbled against my parted lips.

“Hey.”

One side of his lips tipped up.

My heart was starting to speed up for various reasons. For one thing, his mouth was on mine again, and this kiss was much deeper. His tongue was moving against mine and then it was his right hand. It was on the move and I had a feeling it was heading to where it had gone last night. To my breasts. I tensed, like I had before, and I had to force myself not to grab his hand, like I had done before. I didn’t this time, because I knew there wasn’t a point. When he wanted to touch me, he was going to touch me.

And he touched me again.

His large hand closed over my left breast, and I knew he could feel the scars there, but the caress didn’t stumble as he zeroed onto the now-aching tip. Jax was good . . . so good that even through a T-shirt and a tank top, he had my nipple puckered when his thumb and forefinger got going, and sharp tingles arced from my breasts to down south. I gasped into the hot kiss, raising my back, and I wasn’t disappointed when he moved to my other breast.

“Fuck, I love that sound you make,” he all but growled against my mouth. He kissed me again. “I want to hear it again.”

So he made me make that sound again, and I was done with not squirming, but I wanted to touch him. I knew I needed to act now, because if I didn’t, his hand would be south again, and hell, all bets were off.

Smoothing my hand off the back of his neck, I slid it across the rough skin of his chest, and almost forgot what I was doing when I imagined what our skin would feel like with nothing between us. Not like that was ever going to happen, so I refocused on my path, trailing my hand down his side, then across the flat expanse of his upper stomach.

“What are you up to?’ he asked, voice husky.

“Nothing.”

Jax lifted up so there was space between our bodies, and I loved the way his abs tightened with the movement. He arched a brow. “Nothing?”

Shaking my head, I bit down on my lip as my fingers skated around his navel and reached the band on his black boxer briefs. With a deep breath, I slipped my fingers under the band.

He caught my wrist. “You want to touch me?”

Warmth flooded my face and a different kind of heat hit my veins. “Yes.” I forced my gaze up, meeting his. “I want to give you . . . what you’ve given me.”

The hunger in his stare sent a shiver of awareness down my spine. “I like that. I want that.” Dipping his head, he caught my lower lip in a quick kiss. “I’ll make you a deal.”