Chapter 5
Chapter Five
Angie
I’m about ready to call it a night and binge-watch some Netflix with Tillie while snuggled in bed when someone pounds on my door.
Already I know it’s Jason. Who else would it be? Security would have let me know if someone were coming to visit.
I go to the door with a sigh. “Jason, this had better be—”
I stop mid-sentence as I open the door and see him standing there, looking for all the world like a man on the brink of emotional collapse.
“Can I come in?” he asks.
His voice is rough, raw with so many emotions that it takes my breath away.
“Of course.” I step back.
He doesn’t say anything as he walks in, just sinks onto my couch, his head in his hands.
I close the door and walk over to him. “Jason,” I say softly, “what happened?”
He looks up at me, his eyes dark and haunted. “Can you make some coffee?”
“Sure.” I head to the kitchen.
Making coffee gives me something to do. Something normal to focus on while Jason wrestles with whatever demons have driven him here at this late hour.
A second later, though, his warm body is behind me, close to me, his cock digging into my back. “Forget the coffee,” he whispers.
I swallow and look over my shoulder. “You want something else?”
He stares at me, his wary eyes flickering lightly. “I think you know what I want.”
“Bourbon?” I ask.
He turns me around harshly so I’m facing him. “It’s been a day, Angie. A fucking day.”
I nod, my heart thumping at his closeness, the rawness in his gaze, the desperate edge to his voice.
It’s kind of terrifying.
And also really arousing.
“I’m here,” I tell him, scraping my fingers over his stubble. “Whatever you need.”
He closes his eyes at my touch, a soft sigh escaping him. “Forgive me if I make this messy…”
“Life’s messy.” I burn my gaze into his. “It doesn’t have to be perfect.”
He crushes his mouth to mine.
Passion and desperation mingle in a heated kiss that leaves us both breathless.
He’s rough, his grip on me unforgiving as he pulls me close.
When he breaks the kiss and inhales, I see a wildness in his eyes—something untamed and barely restrained.
It’s hunger, yes, but not just for me… For something deeper.
Something raw and aching that he’s buried for too long.
For an instant, I wonder if I’ve just kissed a man or lit a match to something I don’t know how to control.
Then I don’t care.
I want whatever he wants. Hunger for whatever he desires.
I surrender to his touch, find my way to the front of his shirt and onto the warm skin beneath. His heart pounds against my palm, matching the rhythm of my own.
“Angie,” he gasps, pulling back slightly. His green eyes are burning into mine, pools of emotion that draw me in and hold me captive. “So much you don’t know…”
“I know enough,” I whisper, running my fingers gently through his hair. “Let me be here for you, Jason.”
He pulls me back into an embrace, holding me tight against him as if he’s afraid I’ll disappear if he lets go. We stay like that for a few moments, wrapped in each other’s warmth, our hearts pounding. His breath warms my neck and sends tingles through me that land between my legs like hot coals.
When he pulls back, cups my cheeks, and stares into my eyes, determination replaces the vulnerability in his gaze.
“I want you,” he grits out. “Right here, right now.”
I swallow hard and nod. I could never even think of denying him, not after what he’s been through. Plus, he’s got me so ripe, I’m about to fall off the vine.
His lips crash down onto mine a moment later, his tongue exploring every crevice of my mouth. The kiss is demanding, consuming.
He’s slowly drugging me, and I’m here for it.
He unbuttons my shirt and slips it off my shoulders before moving to the clasp of my bra. I reach to loosen his tie, pulling it off and unbuttoning his shirt in return.
And through it all, we still kiss. Kiss as though we’re steeped in madness.
Which we kind of are.
He trails kisses down my neck and collarbone as he moves us toward the bedroom, not breaking contact even once. His urgency is contagious—a need as raw and real as the grief we’ve been tiptoeing around.
We shed our remaining clothes in a hurry, and he pushes me onto the bed, displacing Tillie. She gives an annoyed yap and runs out of the room.
Jason’s cock is hard. He pushes it against the lips of my pussy. “Fuck. Feel how much I want you, Angie. Feel how hard I am for you.” He closes his eyes. “Damn it all. I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman so much in my life.”
I’m ready.
So wet and ready and full of anticipation as I wait for him to plunge into me with the swift, hard thrust I love.
But he doesn’t.
His eyes are still closed, and when he opens them…
I see something I don’t want to see.
Is he thinking about his wife?
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted a woman so much in my life.
Is he feeling guilt that he’s feeling something different for me?
I can’t ask. He doesn’t know I know.
Instead, I reach out and caress his cheek. He closes his eyes once more, sighing. When he opens his eyes again, his gaze is intense, unwavering.
“Is everything okay?” I ask quietly. My heart pounds as I wait for his response.
He nods but doesn’t say anything right away. He’s silent for so long that I begin to pull away. But just as I start to move, he cups both my cheeks, gently rubbing them with his thumbs.
“Yes,” he finally says, voice low and rough.
His lips are back on mine then, stealing my breath like lightning. His kiss is desperate, full of a hunger that seems to consume us both. He slides into me—a slow, deliberate thrust that steals the air from my lungs.
He pulls out and thrusts in again. Then again, each thrust like a fire tunneling through me, hot and blazing.
“Angie,” he gasps against my mouth, his forehead pressed against mine. “Angie… God, I need you. I need this.”
I dig my nails into his back. His breath hitches. I dig harder.
He thrusts, thrusts, thrusts, burrowing into my body with a savage intensity.
He pushes me into the soft mattress. I feel every line of him, every shuddering breath he takes, every pulse of his heart against my own. His touch is electric, searing my skin and leaving a scorching trail in its wake.
His lips are everywhere—on my mouth, my neck, my breasts—branding me with their heat.
“Jason,” I gasp.
He meets my gaze, his eyes vulnerable but also unreadable.
“I love you,” he rasps out.
He’s inside me, still thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
But the words…
I love you.
Does he even know he said them? Or is he thinking about his wife? About Lindsay?
My heart clenches, and for a moment I can’t breathe.
Surely he knows what he said.
Surely he loves me.
Angie.
And I love him too. I wouldn’t have been ready to upend my life and fly to Switzerland with him if I didn’t.
“I love you too,” I whisper back, the words slipping out easily along with the whirlwind of emotions raging within me. “I love you, Jason.”
With one final thrust, he releases, hitting my pubic bone and clitoris with just the right force.
As I join him in climax, the high overwhelms me. I soar to the stars, racing, racing, racing, my whole body in spasms that rock my world to the hilt.
He breathes hard against me, his eyes closed, sweat beading on his brow.
I’m in love.
So in love.
But as the orgasm slowly subsides, it hits me.
Jason didn’t use a condom.
And I’m not on the pill.