The Drakes of California

Diamond wasn’t even aware that she was joining in the dance of this slow grind until she felt Jackson harden beneath her. Then she felt his hand on the silk of her dress, grasping her hip, easing along her waist and up to her breast. He tweaked her nipple, and Diamond felt as if she would explode. In this love-induced insanity, it didn’t matter that she was in a public place, mere yards from where her protective brothers sat. All she wanted was this man’s arms around her, with his body pressed tight against hers.

And then the audience applauded.

“Stop!” Diamond used the last ounce of her will and pushed against Jackson’s massive chest. “We…can’t do this.”

“I know,” Jackson readily agreed. “You’re much more than a quick romp in the hay or, in this instance, the garden. Here,” he said as he reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a card. “My cell number is on the back. Call me. Let’s meet up and…finish what we’ve started.” In the next instant, he was gone.

Diamond stayed behind in the shadows, willing her heartbeat to return to normal. She touched a hand to her lips and felt them swollen from the passion of his kisses. She felt that one look at her brothers and the message of what had transpired would be sent faster than a cell phone text. She’d been ravished by Jackson Wright, and she wanted it to happen again and again. Diamond knew it would raise eyebrows and questions, but she had no choice. She couldn’t get Donovan’s drink, return to her seat, hear the rest of the concert or say thanks to the host. If she was going to save any dignity at all, she had to run out of here as if the devil were chasing her. And that is exactly what she did.