Chapter 23
Mia
M y eyes flutter open to the soft light of the room. Checking my phone, it’s only 4 a.m.. It’s unsettlingly quiet, except for the gentle, even breaths Jake takes next to me. I watch him sleep; he’s like the calm found in the eye of a storm.
How can he look so perfect? He doesn’t even snore. Why doesn’t he snore? I slide out of bed, snatch up the blanket, and quietly walk towards my desk.
I hate the fact that he does sweet things like last night. Instead of letting me sleep hungry and dirty, he gave me a bath and fed me. I’m grateful, and it was so thoughtful of him. I don’t even know why I’m upset.
Then again, he says this is casual, no catching feelings, and goes ahead and does things like that. I don't know what kind of game he's playing.
Why is he even in my bed? I thought he doesn’t cuddle after sex.
Sitting at my desk, I bang my head against my laptop before opening it. I try to focus on the blank screen in front of me, but it’s hard when my mind is a tangled mess.
“Baby, why are you up so early?” His groggy sound startles me. I turn to see him sitting on the bed, bare chest, looking sexy even in the dimly lit room.
“I’m writing, and don’t call me baby.” The words escape me before I can stop them, and sharper than I intended.
He gets off the bed, and moves to crouch in front of me. “Is everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine,” I say, avoiding his gaze.
“Why do I feel like you’re mad at me?”
“I’m not mad.”
“You sound mad, baby.”
“Don’t call me that,” I snap at him.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m not your baby,” I say , fighting back tears.
Stop crying for everything, I scold myself internally.
I know we’re just two people hooking up, nothing more. “And why did you take care of me last night? You could have let me sleep hungry and probably a little stinky.”
He reaches out, lifting my chin gently to meet his eyes. “Because I care about you, and you always smell good.”
I pull away. “Well, you shouldn’t.”
Without another word, he stands, lifts me effortlessly, and I instinctively wrap my legs around his waist as he sits on the bed.
My body has a mind of its own always melting into him.
“Hey, look at me.” He cups my face with both hands. His touch sends thrills through my veins. “I know this is casual and just for the summer, but that doesn't mean I don't care about you.” His voice strained. “I want to enjoy every moment we have left together, but not at the cost of hurting you. If this is too much, just tell me we can stop.” He pauses, panting as if the idea pains him.
He's so freaking perfect, except for one tiny little thing. He doesn't want more with me. And I have a feeling that I want everything with him.
“It's just you confuse things sometimes.” I trace lazy circles around his bare chest. He hardens beneath me.
“Confused how?” His hand rubs my shoulder.
“I've never hooked up with anyone before, but I don't think it is supposed to be like this.” I know I'm not imagining the connection between us.
“You're right, it's not.” He brushes away a few curls that fall around my face. “But it’s different with you. You’re not some random girl I met at the bar or the club. I treat you the same way I treat Sarah and Alex.” He gently tucks a piece of hair behind my ear. I must look crazy, but the way he’s looking at me makes me feel like I am the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen.
I laugh. “Do you also fuck Sarah and Alex?”
“Minus the fucking and the orgasms.” He laughs a little, but his eyes are still intense. He's waiting for my answer.
I know I should end it now. I’m aware of how it will end, but I can’t bring myself to let go. Not when my body craves him, and his arms feel like home. I thought I was demisexual, but then he bumped into my life, and woke up all my desires, all my wants, and all my cravings. I wasn’t demisexual; I was Jake-sexual. It’s like I was waiting for him all along. Even my boyfriend, who I thought I had feelings for, never made me feel like this.
I tighten my arms around his neck and pull him into a kiss, deciding to enjoy whatever time we have left, regardless of the consequences.
I trace my fingers down his chest, his skin warm under my touch, and the steady pulse of his heartbeat thudding beneath my fingertips. With a swift motion, he rolls us over on the bed, folding me beneath him.
He pauses, his green eyes lingering on me with an intensity that seems to slow time. His fingers trace my face, as if he’s memorizing every detail. He lowers his head and kisses my forehead, my eyes, cheeks, then my nose which makes me giggle. His lips find mine again, kissing my laughter.
Lifting my shirt over my head, his hand gliding along my body, he ignites a trail of goosebumps across my skin. His kisses trail slowly and deliberately, causing soft moans to escape my lips.
He pauses at each breast, gently drawing each nipple in his mouth, warm and inviting. Each pull sends a wave of pleasure that tightens my stomach and quickens my breaths.
His lips meet mine again, deep and soulful. My hands cradle his face, my thumbs gently stroking his cheek. I have to remind myself to breathe, remember this is just sex, even when each touch suggests something deeper.
My heart doesn’t listen.
Each touch, each kiss, is like the rain that falls to the thirsty ground of my soul, making new flowers of affection bloom in my chest.
He reaches for a condom, but I hold his hand, stopping him. “I want to feel all of you, and I’m on birth control, but only if you’re okay with it,” I whisper.
“I want to, and I’ve always used protection before,” he reassures me.
“Okay,” I breathe out, my heart fluttering with anticipation.
He positions himself at my entrance, his hands shaking as he slowly enters me. His gaze flickers, as if he’s afraid of what he might find in my eyes, yet he holds it. They are wide, unguarded, and filled with emotions that make my breath catch.
His breath is shaky, and his touch is featherlight, almost hesitant. No matter how much he stretches me, I'm still so fucking tight that it still takes him a few seconds to slide in. He softens my discomfort with kisses as he pushes in slowly, until he’s all the way inside me, like he’s the only one that belongs there.
It feels so much better with no barrier between us. “Hmm, it feels so good,” I moan. I'm so lost in him, in us, that I might pass out.
“You’re so wet for me, princess,” he whispers in my ear. His grip tightens around me, his finger pressing into my skin as if he’s afraid I might slip away. His gaze is searching, almost questioning the intensity of the moment.
He places his hand at my side, lifting himself into a push-up position. My legs are bent up and stretched out as he plunges into me.
“Yes, just like that please.” I reach out to grab his hips, my finger digging into his ass, pulling him closer. I need every inch of him until he’s balls-deep, stretching me.
“My greedy princess wants more, doesn't she?” His ass is tightening with every thrust.
I love it when he talks to me like that. I can feel myself getting wetter. “Baby…” I grab the sheets on each side of the bed as flames run through my veins. As if I'm standing in the heat of a thousand suns, lighting up everything from the inside, touching every part of me.
“Yesss, yes,” I whimper.
“That’s it, come for me, princess,” he whispers, his breath warm against my face.
It feels so intense, so overwhelmingly good, that tiny stars flash before my eyes. My soul momentarily leaves my body, transporting me to another world.
I cry out, my moans turning into a series of desperate, high-pitched sounds. “Jake, oh God, Jake!”
“I’m going to come, baby. Do you want me to come inside of you?”
I nod. “Yes, yes please.” My moans turn into soft, breathy cries. I try to open my eyes to look at him, but I can’t—my vision’s blurry.
He lets out a deep groan, his breath ragged against my face. The sound of his body hitting mine is enough to make me come again, a loud cry escaping my lips.
“Oh, fuck,” he curses as his soul joins mine, and I swear we leave this world for however long I don’t know. It’s just our souls connecting together in a place of pure ecstasy as his liquid fills me up.
I don’t know how long it takes for our souls to return to our bodies. My eyes open slowly, blinking a couple of times to adjust my vision. I didn’t even know I was crying until his thumb wipes away the remaining tears. I don’t know how much I cried out, but my throat feels dry.
We stare at each other as he lays flat on me, his arms wrapped around my shoulders. Our legs tangled together, and he’s still inside of me. He presses his lips to mine, our lips moving slowly against each other. These are more than simple kisses—it seems as if our hearts, souls, and bodies are communicating, whispering words we don’t dare to say out loud.
My heart, stubborn as deep-set roots, stretches towards the warmth he offers, soaking it up, growing despite my intentions to keep things casual.
Moving to lie next to me, he pulls me into his arms, holding me tightly against him, and quickly falls asleep. He didn't even bother to clean up.
A few minutes later, I untangle myself, careful not to wake him. I grab my shirt and put it on, tiptoeing towards my desk, my legs still sticky.
I sit at my desk as the early morning light seeps through the glass windows, staring at the image of me and my mom on my laptop screen saver.
We took that picture last year, and now she’s just gone.
I click on the window screen to open my document. I have a little over a month to finish this book, to prove to myself that I can do this. One thing I know for sure: I can’t go back to medical school. I don’t want to go back home, where my dad will remind me every day how I’m throwing my life away.
Maybe I’ll visit my grandmother in Paris if the offer still stands. I know nothing about my mom’s life there. Maybe learning that part of her story might help me find my own.
I know he’s staring at me without even seeing him. I always know when he's looking at me. It’s the way my heart beats a little faster, and the goosebumps on my arms. We are like protons and neutrons, pulling towards each other by nuclear force. “I thought you were sleeping,” I say, trying to focus on my screen.
“I was, but I reached out for you, and you were gone.”
It’s impossible to keep my feelings at bay when he says things like this.
“I wanted to get some writing done.”
“Anything for me to read?” He moves towards me and leans against the desk.
“I started a new story. Well, it’s an old story I submitted to my school’s story contest. It was a little over 10,000 words. I edited it and added about 10,000 more words this week. I figured if I want to get rid of my fears of not being a talented writer, I must start where everything falls apart.”
“Can I take a peek?” he asks, looking at me with genuine interest.
“Um, sure. It’s a little dark and spicy.”
“I love dark and spicy,” he chuckles.
“Okay, I’ll send it to you.”
“I can’t wait to read it.” He pulls me off the chair and into his chest, his embrace warm and comforting. “But right now, it’s time for our morning walk.”
“Don’t you think we should shower first? We kind of smell like…”
He chuckles, sniffing me playfully. “You smell amazing.”