Chapter 27
Hallie
“Are you sure?” he’d asked me.
I’d never been more sure of anything in my life.
Last weekend I’d stopped us, too afraid of what it would mean if I let myself get carried away.
If I let James kiss me senseless until we tumbled into bed and crossed that line I’d been toeing since the moment we met.
Because if I gave in, if I let myself want this the way I did want it, it would make everything so much harder when it inevitably ended.
But I was tired of letting my fear rule me.
For one night, I just wanted to forget all the expectations I had to live up to.
I didn’t want to think about Anthea or what would happen if I didn’t land the food critic position.
I wanted to feel like I was someone’s first pick for once.
To be desired so deeply that all the noise in my head finally went quiet.
James backed me up one step at a time until the backs of my legs hit the edge of the bed.
I careened backward until my body met the soft mattress.
He hesitated for a moment. This was the moment when I could change my mind like I had last weekend.
Tell him never mind and ask him to pour me a glass of wine.
I knew he’d be disappointed, but he would agree and pour me that glass of wine just because he was that nice of a guy.
But I didn’t want the nice guy tonight. So, I reached for the button on my pants.
Instead of unbuttoning his own clothes like I’d expected, James helped slide my pants down with slow, aching precision. His hands taking their time to squeeze my bare flesh before he tossed the clothing behind him.
Then—God help me—he dropped to his knees.
The way he looked at me, with raw hunger and reverence, made my skin burn. Like every blemish or imperfection I saw in the mirror was exactly what turned him on. His hands moved along my legs, over my hips, under my ass, then he curled his fingers around the band of my black thong.
“Can I?” he asked, his voice low and rough.
“Yes,” I breathed, nearly moaning the word.
He peeled the delicate lace down my legs, slow enough to make me squirm. I thanked previous me for shaving last night, despite having no idea where I’d find myself only twenty-four hours later.
His nostrils flared as he took me in and to my surprise, he leaned down to place a single kiss right below my belly button. “You are a masterpiece.”
I could have cried at the way he said it.
Like he meant it. I’d never thought I was the prettiest girl in the room—especially being best friends with Roxie King.
College nights out with her meant watching men start conversations with her first—that was normal for me.
I found it difficult to believe a man found me attractive.
But not James.
James looked at me like I was it .
I gave James’s shoulders a tug, he got the message and crawled onto the bed with me. But there was only one problem. He remained fully dressed, unlike me, who was half-naked.
My fingers reached for the top button on James’s shirt, but he shook his head, stopping me. The familiar fear of inadequacy returned.
“You do not know how much I want to have sex with you right now,” James whispered. “I’ve been thinking about it since the first time I kissed you on the steps of your apartment building.”
He kissed down my throat, dragging his teeth lightly along my jaw. “I had to stop myself from asking to follow you upstairs and ending our night very differently.”
I gasped. That kiss had ruined me more than I cared to let on. I’d convinced myself it was just timing. Just for work. But I’d imagined him doing exactly what he described.
“The Hamptons was just the appetizer,” he said. “A taste of the main course. I wanted to hear how my name sounded in that breathy moan of yours. I want to hear it right now. I want to hear it while I’m inside of you. But tonight I want something even more.”
His lips brushed my ear.
“I want to taste you. I want to make you fall apart. Tonight is all about you .”
Heat pooled between my thighs as James licked down my neck, leaving a trail of kisses in his wake as he crawled back off the bed. “I still can’t believe there was a time I hated you,” I said with a nervous laugh.
James kissed the inside of my thigh. “You never hated me,” he said, looking up with a smirk. “Though, I’ll admit, it was kind of hot when you glared at me like you wanted to set me on fire.”
“James,” I said, pushing at his shoulders, nerves settling in. “I just want to warn you it may take a while for me to come. It’s not you—I’m just sensitive, and sometimes I get in my head and—”
“Hallie,” he cut me off. “Stop talking.”
He crawled up, kissed me deeply, then whispered, “I don’t care how long it takes. In fact, I’m hoping it takes a while. This isn’t a chore for me, Hal. This is dessert after the meal we just had, and I’m going to savor every last bite.”
Could he be any more perfect?
“Now,” he said, kissing his way back down my body, “tell me what you like.”
I hesitated. But the way he looked at me, like there was no rush, like this moment belonged to me, gave me courage.
What did I like?
Any other time someone had gone down on me, it was a lot of squirming to help him hit the right spot. Or subtle head pushing so he would apply enough pressure. No one had ever made me feel as good as I could make myself feel.
“Circles. Not too much pressure. I’m sensitive.
” It felt uncomfortable talking about this, but the attentive way he listened, like he truly wanted to do what I wanted, gave me the confidence to keep going.
“And … I’ve always wanted to talk dirty during sex, but I felt too embarrassed to do it before. ”
James slid a hand under my shirt, fingertips dipping below the edge of my bra as he squeezed my breast. A wave of heat followed his touch, leaving a tingling sensation on my skin. “Should I tell you how after I left your bedroom in the Hamptons, I had to get in the shower and fuck my hand?”
I was writhing on the bed. Every nerve felt flayed open. My skin felt like it had been set on fire. If I didn’t find some sort of relief, I was sure to combust right here in this bedroom.
“Lay back,” he murmured. “Let me take care of you.”
He went back to trailing kisses on my thighs—growing closer and closer to where I wanted him to be. Where I needed him to be. I opened my legs wider, inviting him in closer. This time, I wasn’t thinking about how I looked or if I was taking too long to finish. I just felt.
I gasped as his fingers slid inside me, slow and deep.
“Oh, sweetheart,” James groaned. Gradually, his fingers began to move in and out of me, starting off slowly before quickening their pace. “Did I make you this wet?”
“Yes,” I sighed.
“Do you want more?”
“Yes.”
He smirked. “So needy.”
Then his fingers were gone and his lips were next to my ear again. “Tell me what you want, Hal.”
“ More ,” I whispered, barely able to breathe. “I want more.”
“Good girl.” He kissed me hard, full of promise, and returned to his position between my legs.
His tongue replaced his fingers, and suddenly my body wasn’t my own anymore—it was a live wire. His tongue pinpointed every sensitive spot with precision. My legs started to close instinctively, but he held me open, kept me right there in that place that felt almost too good to survive.
I needed something to break.
And then I shattered.
I wasn’t sure of anything at all. I’d lost the ability to think as all I could focus on was how he was making me fall apart.
When I could finally think again, James climbed back onto the bed and kissed me as my body turned to liquid. No longer containable.
“And how do you feel?” he whispered.
“I think I’m still in orbit.”
He laughed, standing up and changing into a pair of sweatpants before offering me his hand. “But is it silent?”
“Is what silent?” I asked.
“Your head,” he said, helping me into my own pair of sweatpants. “There was far too much going on up there for you to really hear yourself.”
Now that he mentioned it, for the first time in days, I finally felt like my arrow was back pointing due north. It was no longer spinning out of control, leaving me unsure of what direction to go in.
“As a matter of fact. I think I know exactly what to write.”
James grinned. “I’ll pop some popcorn and crack open a bottle of wine. You can use my laptop.”
As he reached the doorway, he looked back. “Are you coming?”
I crossed the room toward him. “Can you make a good Old Fashioned?”
That beautiful smile stretched so wide it crinkled the corners of his eyes. “ Can I? Sweetheart, you’re in for a treat.”
Nothing seemed likely to eclipse the treat he’d just given me, I thought.