67. Chapter 66
T he room was quiet except for the soft hum of the night outside.
Jenna lay sprawled against Troy, her head tucked against his chest, their bodies tangled in the sheets.
Their first joining had been fast and desperate-a rush of need that had left them both breathless.
Now, they lay in a cocoon of warmth, the afterglow settling between them like a whispered secret.
Troy ran his fingers through her hair, twisting the golden strands lazily before arranging them over her bare breasts. "Dani's football season starts soon," Jenna murmured. "She's going to be impossible to live with if she doesn't make captain."
Troy hummed, distracted by the pink peeping through the gold.
"And Dylan's stubborn streak is getting worse," Troy muttered. "The other day, he refused to admit he got an equation wrong. Took him an hour to concede. It was uphill."
Jenna chuckled. "I think he came pre-installed with that attitude."
For a moment, she let her thoughts drift. "I wonder where Margaret went. I was expecting her to do a U-turn back once she got her second wind."
Troy smirked, rolling onto his side to face her. "I may have paid for Grant to take her to the Grosvenor overnight and then back to Brighton. I owe him big."
Troy continued tracing the curve of her waist, his touch light but reverent. Jenna had never been shy with him, but as his fingers ghosted over the faint stretch marks on her belly, a flicker of self-consciousness made her pull the blanket higher.
"Don't hide from me," Troy murmured, catching the fabric before it could shield her. "You know I love every inch of your body. You are a goddess."
She scoffed, rolling her eyes, but his hands skimmed down her stomach, his touch worshipful. When he bent down, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to her skin, she giggled.
That was all it took. A playful tug-of-war for the blanket ensued, Jenna wrestling to cover herself, Troy determined to keep her bare. They tumbled, laughing, until his mouth caught hers, the kiss shifting from teasing to something deeper, slower.
"I love how soft you are," Troy murmured against her lips.
Jenna arched a brow. "You mean fat?"
Troy groaned. "You have to be crazy to think this body is anything short of perfect."
She sighed dramatically. "I am heavier now."
He grinned. "Well, we're not in a boxing match... but we could be."
That challenge led to a slow, sensual bout of lovemaking-one where every touch was deliberate, every kiss unhurried like they were relearning each other in the most intimate way.
Troy traced his hands over her curves, exploring her body as if memorizing every inch anew, whispering words against her skin that made her shiver.
Jenna responded in kind, her hands sliding over his broad shoulders, pulling him closer, pressing her mouth to the pulse at his throat.
Their movements were languid, an ebb and flow of need and tenderness as if savouring each sensation, each whispered breath.
The room was filled with the quiet symphony of their sighs, the deep connection they had forged over years settling around them like a cocoon.
By the time they reached the pinnacle, it was not just passion that had driven them there but the unspoken understanding that they had always been meant for this, for each other.
Afterwards, they dozed in the dim glow of the bedside lamp, only for Jenna to suddenly sit up with a start. "Shit, I have to start dinner."
Troy groaned, watching as she reached for her clothes. "I'm feeling used."
Jenna threw him a teasing grin over her shoulder. "It's not you who is going to do the walk of shame. See you tomorrow?"
Troy smirked, stretching lazily against the pillows. "See you tomorrow."