35. Now
35
NOW
Brooke’s skin cooled from the shower while she stood at the side of the tub, dripping wet. Jack had frozen at her question, his strong fingers gripping the edge of the tub. As if shaking himself, he moved. “Of course,” he said as he lifted from the bath, triceps flexing, water skimming over his chest and down the triangular rift below his pecs.
But she didn’t want him to get out. She wanted to go all-in.
She’d held him at arm’s length to protect herself, but there was a cost to keeping safe, to not experiencing life, to holding back. And it felt too high now.
She dropped her towel and Jack sank back into the water on a heavy breath, water rolling to the sides and back again.
“Brooke,” he whispered. Her heartbeat fluttered wildly as he drank his fill of her, his gaze lingering on her hips and breasts before meeting her eyes. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”
Brooke took the compliment, buried it like a piece of stolen treasure. Jack had always made her feel cherished in a way no one else ever could. She was done holding back, done hiding.
He took her hand and held her waist as she stepped into the tub, his rough palm spanning her hip, his heat flowing into her skin. She turned her back to him and sank into the water. His legs bracketed hers, coarse hair against her outer thighs, water lapping at her breasts, an ache flaring deep in her core.
Jack’s strong fingers moved to her shoulders, kneading her sore muscles. But more than soothing backpack fatigue, a deep relief swept through her at the feel of his hands on her again—intentional and purposeful. Her body came alive, lighting up in all the places he touched. Chills danced across Brooke’s shoulders and down her arms, disappearing into the heat of the water. With a finger, he swept her wet hair over one shoulder, his thumbs traveling up her neck.
Brooke let out a whimper and Jack groaned in response. “Those sounds haunt my dreams.”
She’d dreamed of him, too. So many times. Woke reaching for him, still feeling his caress—gentle like a winter daybreak, a tingle across her skin. She could never shake his memory on those days, the missing, the wondering what he was doing now.
“I know a thing or two about that.” Brooke ran her palms over his thighs and Jack’s fingers stilled a moment before they resumed their movements, his breath brushing against her shoulder. She wanted him to nuzzle against her the way he used to, find that spot below her ear that’d always felt like assurance and refuge.
His fingertips reached her collarbone and she willed his hands to slip below the water, the ache between her legs intensifying. The need for him to touch her everywhere overwhelmed her senses, but he kept his caress gentle.
The firelight flickered across the room and Brooke slipped her feet to the end of the tub, leaning back against him. His dick was hard between them, his chest hair tickling her back. But instead of pulling her tight, his hands moved to her arms, sliding up and down, the backs of his fingers barely brushing the curve of her breasts.
Brooke dropped her head to Jack’s shoulder, arching her back so her breasts crested the top of the water, her nipples hard peaks in the fading pink daylight. Jack sucked in a breath next to her ear, but the whisper of his hands didn’t move to where she wanted him. Like he was taking her request for a massage literally. Like stepping naked into his bath wasn’t a clear enough indicator for what she wanted.
Like he was still holding back until she made it clear she wasn’t anymore.
She tilted her face to see him. His wet hair was slicked back, his jaw clenched, his eyes the dark brown of autumn’s last leaves. The heat in his gaze chased away the chill of the air not yet warmed by the fire.
She cupped his jaw, the grown-in stubble rasping against her palm, and he cradled her face, his thumb stroking her cheek. He tipped his face down, barely brushing his bottom lip against hers. He kissed the edge of her mouth and she breathed out in a rush. The first time he’d kissed her like this in a dark club had been tentative. But this gentle stroke of his tongue, this barely-there caress, was a reminder of all the love and desire they’d felt back then, a promise in the subtle press of lips.
She wasn’t changing her mind or pulling away. She could let the past go if it meant a chance for a future she’d never stopped wanting.
A light rain pitter-pattered above them on the glass ceiling, the hazy light caressing her skin the way Jack’s hands did. They skimmed up her side, traced the curve of her breasts until she ached for him.
With his cheek pressed against her temple, the rasp of his stubble against her ear, they both watched as he cupped her breasts, finally rolling her nipples between his fingers. She whimpered again and Jack’s groan rumbled through her and then his mouth was on her neck. She reached behind her to slip her fingers into his hair to keep him there.
One large hand slipped below the water, skimmed across her belly, dipped between her legs. Jack massaged circles on her inner thigh, so close to where she wanted him, but not close enough.
“Please,” she whined, arching her back.
She grabbed the side of the tub and tried to twist in his arms, but Jack’s other hand closed over hers, pinning her fingers against the rim. “Not yet.” He squeezed his hand over hers in a silent command to stay. “Isn’t the anticipation the best part?”
“No.” It’d been seven years since she’d felt this kind of connection with someone. “I’m tired of waiting.”
He laughed under his breath and his hand dropped from the edge of the tub, banding against her rib cage and pulling her back against his dick. “Always so impatient,” he whispered before gently biting her earlobe and squeezing her thigh. Jack had never been fumbling, but he was more in control of his movements now—more in control of her—and the small shift in power drove her wild.
She rocked her hips against him, and he moved his thumb to draw circles against her.
“God, that’s perfect.”
“I remember,” Jack said against her shoulder. “All of it.” She remembered, too. The rush, the exhilaration, her hair blowing in the wind, that carefree smile, the freedom that’d been so damn alluring, uninhibited and real.
“You’re fucking mesmerizing,” he said as he kissed up her neck. “And enticing.” He pressed his lips to that spot below her ear he used to tuck his nose against when they fell asleep and it sent shock waves through her—a fluttery echo around her heart and an insistent pulse between her legs. “And excruciating.”
“Excruciating?”
Jack rolled his hips, his dick pushing against her back. “Ex cruciating,” he whispered in her ear. “Walking behind you…” He hooked a hand under her knee and pulled it up, slid his palm down her thigh. “Watching your hips sway…” He gripped her hip and tugged her tighter against him. Her legs fell open and his skilled fingers dipped inside. “You’ve been driving me out of my mind, Brooke.”
Jack increased the pace, his fingers sliding deeper, and Brooke gripped the hard muscles of his thigh on a moan.
Her entire body was on fire, from the hot water and the heat of Jack behind her, to the intensity building between her legs. She chased her orgasm, feeling the pressure build and build inside her. She almost didn’t want to reach for it, didn’t want this to end.
Jack slipped his nose behind her ear, hummed against her skin, and she nearly lost it from the familiarity and the comfort, the relief at returning to this place she’d worried couldn’t exist for them anymore.
As much as her view was stunning—the orange glow of the fireplace flickering over the bookshelf, the blue twilight, the rain trickling over the windows and glass roof and blurring the outside world—the view of Jack’s smile was always better.
She needed to see him, to hold him, to press their foreheads together. “I need you.”
Brooke sat up, grabbing the edge of the tub to turn to face Jack, but her fingers slipped on the slick surface and she fell, water sloshing over the edge. Her hands plunged under the water to brace herself, one landing high on Jack’s thigh. He hissed, his knees coming up beside her, and grabbed her waist to stop her from wrecking the mood completely.
She laughed self-consciously as she turned to face him. “So much for being sexy.”
Jack’s lips tipped up on one side, that little smile line appearing in his cheek. His hands circled her waist and drew her closer, helping her balance while she moved to straddle him.
He shifted under her, bringing his legs up at the same time his hands slid to her knees and tugged. She fell forward, water sloshing, the cut of his hips pressing against her inner thighs. She sucked in a breath at the feel of his dick pressed against where she ached for him.
“Still very sexy,” he said on a quiet breath. His eyes were like the fairy pools, vast and endlessly deep. Like if she fell into them, she’d never come out again—and she was very ready to fall.
“Hi,” she said.
Jack’s eyes turned even softer as he tipped his forehead against hers, going out of focus. “Hi,” he said against her lips.
His hands skated from her knees to her hips, and his touch felt soft and silky against her water-warmed skin. Brooke sank her fingers into his wet hair and rocked her hips against him. One large hand settled on her lower back, stilling her.
“Fuck,” he said, his head dropping to her shoulder. “I don’t have a condom.”
“I have an IUD and I got tested recently. All negative.”
“I’ve been tested, too. I can show you the results—”
“I trust you.”
Jack tipped his mouth against her neck, a quiet mmm falling from his lips before he was pressing them to hers, like maybe that’s all he’d wanted to hear from her. Something that had been so hard to give him felt effortless now.
Brooke ran her hands over his shoulders, down over the slope of his pecs. She rose up on her knees to take him, sinking slowly, watching the way Jack’s head tipped back against the edge of the tub, throat working, eyelids heavy. His lips parted, fingers tightening on her hips.
Jack growled in the back of his throat as Brooke rolled her hips to take more of him. He cupped her jaw, brought her mouth down to his, kissed and licked and hummed against her lips.
“I missed you, B,” he said. “Not just like this.”
“I missed you, too.” She’d spent so many lonely nights hating him, loving him, regretting him, but most of all, longing for what they’d had. What they’d somehow managed to recover.
They made love slowly, the water rolling in quiet waves around them, the rain pattering on the glass above. She banded her arms around his shoulders, clung to him, rocked against him as the pressure built inside her.
Brooke came apart, stars behind her eyes, and Jack followed, his hand twisting into her hair and he shuddered below her. She snuggled against his chest, never wanting to leave the intimacy of this moment. Jack brushed her hair away from her shoulders, ran the pads of his fingers lightly over her back, squeezed her tight.
They stayed there, twined together until the water turned cold and goose bumps pebbled her arms. Jack kissed along her jaw and shifted beneath her. “Let’s go to bed.”
They climbed from the water and Jack bundled her in a plush white towel before wrapping another around his waist. “I’d carry you to bed if it weren’t for my knee.”
Brooke buried her smile against his throat, placed kisses along his hot skin. “We’re taking enough risks on this trip.”