Chapter 59
For about thirty seconds, I let myself have it.
Her skin against mine, the warmth of her legs still locked around my hips, the soft little sound she made when I kissed her jaw. Thirty seconds where nothing in the world could touch us.
And then I had to move.
I didn’t even mean to — just shifted enough to pull out — and it was gone. The heat. The way she felt like home wrapped around me. It was like ripping out a plug; everything that had been golden and grounding went cold in a blink, leaving me raw and stupidly hollow.
She sank back into the pillow, flushed and gorgeous, and as I looked at her, my stomach twisted, just a little. How did I deserve her? What god had smiled on me and blessed me with this?
And then… The panic landed hard, twisting every soft and gentle thought into a horror.
It was midnight. My mother was literally on the other side of a paper-thin wall. We had just — Christ — we had just, and we hadn’t even talked about any of it, no condom, no backup plan, what the hell was I thinking?
I was up before I knew it, pulling away but still trying to touch her everywhere at once, desperate to keep something between us. “Okay, okay, don’t move,” I muttered, like that would make this less insane.
Her brows drew together. “Ansel—?”
“Shhh, just — give me two seconds,” I whispered, scanning the room like I was expecting to find a responsible adult hiding in the corner. “I have to — I mean, you need—” My hand hovered over her hip, then pulled back like I’d burned myself. “God, I’m the biggest idiot alive.”
She sat up, the sheet slipping down, and I immediately averted my eyes because apparently now I had morals.
“You’re not—” she started, but I was already rummaging for something, anything, a shirt, a towel, a time machine.
“I didn’t—” I swallowed hard. “We didn’t even talk about this. You could — you might — and my mom’s right there and, fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—” I stopped, picturing her in a doctor’s office in a couple of months.
Her hand caught my wrist. Firm. Warm. “Ansel.”
I froze.
She was smiling. Barely, but it was there. “Breathe.”
I did. Sort of. But I was still pretty sure my heart was trying to punch through my ribs. “Stay right here,” I muttered, pulling a shirt over my head quickly. “There’s a drugstore right up the road.”
“Honey,” her fingers wrapped around my wrist. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s not too soon for Plan B, right? I’m so fucking irresponsible.”
She giggled, cheeks flushing as she pulled me back down next to her. “Haven’t you been snipped?” Her hands were in my hair again; she was pressing feather light kisses against my jaw.
“Shit,” I sighed, letting my head fall back onto the pillow. “Yes. Yes, I have.” My heart was still in my throat, pulse through the roof like I was being held at gunpoint. How could I have forgotten?
Because she was in every one of my senses.
Because the mere idea of forcing her into something she didn’t want — something she had no say in — curdled every fiber of my being
“So calm down, and just hold me, please, cowboy. I just want you here with me.” She tugged me a little closer, nestling her nose behind my ear.
“No,” I sat up again, “I mean — yes, but you’re a mess. The bed’s a mess.” With still-trembling hands, I wrapped the covers around her, scooping her up into my arms. “Don’t make a sound.” I muttered into her ratty curls.
“Pretty bold to be going full Pooh-Bear across the hall of your mom’s house.” She whispered, lips brushing against my throat.
I looked down.
“Fuck,” I didn’t have pants on. Nothing but my half-hard dick and the glistening sheen of our combined ecstasies. “Just don’t give her a reason to wake up, sweetheart.”
I set her on top of the counter, but before I could pull away, her ankles hooked around the back of my legs, pulling me close.
With her fingers laced through my sweat-damp hair, she grinned. “You’re forty years old.”
“I am.” Her lips were swollen, eyes sparking with the kind of look that could send a weaker man to his knees.
I was moments away from being a weaker man.
“I’m thirty-three.” She pulled me closer, so that she could press her lips to mine in a featherlight kiss.
“You are,” I whimpered, chasing after her when she pulled away.
“So why does it feel like I snuck into your house after prom?” She laughed, and if I hadn’t been a goner already — I would have been lost.
“That’s what happens when it’s real, baby.” I pulled away from her before she could distract me again, grabbing a washcloth from the linen closet behind us.
Once I’d warmed the water and dampened the cloth — and pressed a kiss to her forehead, I’m not a monster — we untangled the blanket from around her, and discarded it.
A low whistle crept out of my mouth as I took in the sight of her again. Bruises littered her chest where I had refused to lose control.
Okay, maybe I had lost control a little.
But what was more important was the way she just beamed at me through her sleepy eyes and her lopsided grin.
“Alright, sweetheart.” I stood between her legs once more, pushing them further apart with my hips. “Let me clean you up, us up, and then we’ll get back to the part where I get to hold you all night long.”
I made quick — but gentle — work of wiping the mess I’d made from her. Her breath turned to quick little pants as I drug the cloth across her core, fingers gripping against my shoulders.
“Don’t do that,” I murmured, refusing to look anywhere but my own hands. “Gotta stop making those sounds, Junebug.”
But she just shook her head, moaning low in her throat.
“I swear to God…” I draped the rag over her leg, cupping her face in my hands. “You’re horrible.” My lips brushed hers, just barely.
“Come on, Winnie.” She tugged at my bottom lip, a devilish look in her eyes. “Show me what you want.”
“I want you to be still, be quiet, and let me clean you up. I want to go back to bed without possibly exposing myself to my mother.” Without turning, without breaking eye contact, I reached behind us, grabbing a clean set of sheets from the closet.
“I might be full pooh bear’ed right now, baby.
But I’m about to carry you across the hall just like this. Stay quiet.”
Juniper blushed, clamping her mouth shut quickly. “That’s what I thought.”
Once we were securely back in the guest room, I quickly stripped the sheets and remade the bed, and Juniper took no time falling backwards on top of the crisp blankets.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just lay there, breathing deep, eyes half-lidded but watchful. I could feel her gaze on me — like she was cataloguing every twitch of my mouth, every time my hand lingered a second too long on her skin.
“Pooh Bear,” she finally murmured, voice rough, and it was a miracle I didn’t choke right there.
“Don’t,” I warned, because if I let myself laugh, the spell would break.
Her lips curved slow and lazy. “You’re literally shirt on, no-pants. Pooh Bear.”
I huffed, but it came out softer than I meant it to. “If you’re not careful, I’ll make sure you can’t talk for the rest of the night.” I tugged the shirt off, climbing onto the bed.
The spark in her eyes — oh, it threatened to burn me alive. But underneath it, there was something else. Something heavier. Like she knew this wasn’t just about the joke. Like she could feel the way my pulse was still racing for reasons that had nothing to do with laughter.
Once I was next to her, I tugged her warm body against mine, fingers tangled in the curls at the nape of her neck, breath still ragged. Her words echoed in my chest — I love you — a confession that had shattered the quiet between us, burned brighter than the sheets beneath us.
It wasn’t just the sex. It was her, finally letting the truth slip free. And now, God, what do I do with it? I wanted to tell her everything. To say it back in a way that meant more than just words. To promise her the whole goddamn world.
But instead, I kept my mouth shut. My thumb brushed along her cheek, tracing the path of tears she hadn’t wiped away. I swallowed hard, the knot in my throat making it hard to speak.
“Junie,” I finally whispered, voice rough and low, “you don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear that.”
She lifted her head, eyes shining with something fragile and fierce all at once. “I’m here,” I said, voice steady despite the storm inside me. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Her smile trembled. I pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, as if I could seal the moment between us forever.
I couldn’t keep my hands off her — not now, not ever. I’m not sure how I was supposed to go back to a life without her by my side every waking minute.
Fingers slid up her ribcage. I cupped her breast, thumb brushing over the peak, careful but desperate, like I was memorizing every inch of her.
Her breath hitched, eyes fluttering closed. “You’re driving me insane, Ansel,” she whispered, voice thick with want.
Good. Because she had pushed me past insane several breathy moans ago.
I leaned down, mouth ghosting over her collarbone, trailing kisses that promised everything I’d held back. “Tell me again,” I murmured against her skin, voice husky.
She opened her eyes, lips parted. “What?”
“You. Say it again. ‘I love you.’”
A smile tugged at her mouth, mischievous and shy all at once. “You’re not going to get tired of hearing that, are you?”
“Never,” I breathed, thumb teasing her nipple until it tightened beneath my touch.
She arched into me, warm and yielding. “Then say it back.”
I grinned against her skin, fingers exploring with reverence and fire. “God, Junie... I love you.”