Chapter Twenty-Three
Now
Avery
Ijump off the bed and slide on my sandals, then grab the only light jacket that I brought with me. He follows close behind me as we head down the hallway. Taking an unexpected right, he quickly locks my front door from the inside.
With my hand on the knob of the back door, I give him a quick side-eye, wondering why he needed to make sure it was locked.
“You can never be too careful,” he says with a grin.
“Is your town not safe, Mr. Mayor?” I play.
“Maybe I want to make sure you never leave again.”
I roll my eyes with exaggeration. Jasper is close behind when I walk out the door onto the sand. The cool night breeze whips past me, carrying a potent feeling of nostalgia.
“Cold?” he asks, wrapping an arm around me before I can respond.
I tuck my head into his chest, smiling to myself. Fuck, it feels good to be in his arms. Mentally, I never left.
We walk along the beach past only two homes before we arrive at his. Following Jasper up the steps of the patio and through double blue doors, I glance over my shoulder at the reflection of the total white moon over the black ocean water.
Endless. Infinity.
“Come on in.” He smiles, stepping aside to let me enter.
At first, the house looked similar in layout to most of the beach houses along this side of the shore, but then I caught sight of an industrial-style spiral staircase in the corner by the front door.
While Jasper walks around, turning on a few lights, I take in his home.
He has dark furniture, a little nicer than what you’d usually see this close to the water. It looks like him.
“Three stories?” I ask, pointing at the stairs.
He nods, removing two pots from underneath the counter. “The living space is on the first floor, the bedrooms and bathrooms are on the second, and then the third floor is an open loft.”
“All that space for just you?” I say, walking over to the countertop bar.
He arches a brow in my direction. “With all that money your parents left you, I’d bet you have a large penthouse in the city.”
Embarrassed by being called out, my cheeks burn. “Yeah. I do.”
“I knew it.” He continues grabbing ingredients from the fridge and pantry. “And you’re probably working and barely spending any of it, right?”
Bashfully, I rub my lips together, fighting a smile. “You don’t know me.”
“I think I do.” He flirts, making my stomach flutter.
Jasper and I spend the next hour cooking and talking. A delicate dance of avoiding bringing up any topic that might kick up our past, we both seem to settle in living in a dreamland.
It’s nearly midnight, and now I’m sitting across the table from Jasper, eating pancakes and scrambled eggs.
Twelve hours ago, I could have never predicted we’d end up here.
We’ve exchanged multiple gazes that carry more weight than just thanks for breakfast. The temptation to have him one more time has exponentially grown.
I rise from the table, feeling overheated. “Do you want me to take that into the kitchen?”
“Thanks,” he says, handing me his plate.
I take it from him and make a beeline for the other room.
I need to get out of here. Being in his house clouds my mind.
I set both plates into the sink, then turn on the water.
I let it run briefly, planning to grab the rest of the dishes from the counter, but I feel the warmth of Jasper’s hands clutching my waist. His front is flush with my back.
God, he feels good.
I let my head fall back, resting it on his shoulder.
Within no time, his soft lips find my neck.
It’s game over for me when he makes contact with my skin.
I twist to face him, gripping the counter’s edge behind me.
Jasper’s deep brown eyes blaze with heat.
His hands thread through my hair, making my scalp tingle.
My eyes close, enjoying the feel of him crowding my space.
Jasper lowers his head, bringing his mouth within an inch of mine. “Thanks for having breakfast with me,” he mutters. “And for what we did before breakfast.”
My body melts under his touch. “Of course.”
“But, Arizona?” he says, gliding his tongue along my bottom lip. Unconsciously, mine darts out and licks the flat part of his. A groan rumbles in the back of his throat. “But I’m not done.”
My stomach drops. “You’re not?”
“Turn around.”
I nip at his lip. “What, no sweet, gentle sex?”
“I’m not a kid anymore, and neither are you. So, bend. The. Fuck. Over,” he demands, pausing between each word.
I gasp, and my panties almost drop themselves. Fuck. How could he have gotten sexier with age? Before I realize what’s happening, Jasper is flipping me around. The cold granite meets my bare skin with a vengeance. I hear him lower to his knees behind me.
Jasper’s hands slide up my legs and under my dress. His fingers hook my panties and yank them down while I shimmy my hips until they pile at our feet. The sound of him unlatching his belt buckle ricochets off the vaulted ceilings, but I’m still unprepared for the sheer force of him railing into me.
“Fuck, Jasper.” I lunge forward with my palms slapping the counter as I brace myself.
Craning my head up and back, I capture Jasper’s mouth.
His kiss is hungry and desperate and raw.
Our tongues tangle in the agony of making up for lost time.
He claws at my hips, moving them back and forth while my insides clench around him.
Reaching up behind his head, I pull him deeper.
Panting, his quick, short breaths fill my throat.
I breathe him in, feral enough to crawl inside him forever, but allowing him to be inside me instead.
Slapping flesh fills the room and does nothing more but enhance my need.
Suddenly, Jasper reaches down to massage the bundle of nerves between my legs.
The shock on my sensitive area causes my head to drop, but he catches it with his other hand, forcing me to remain connected to his lips.
Sharing the same breath, we move together, his touch so similar to before, but with a new commanding way to it.
“God, I missed your touch,” I moan.
Panting, he continues to thrust in and out of me a few more times. The sound of pleasure continues to fill this sleepy beach house. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists.
Without warning, Jasper’s body stiffens behind me. His movements become frantic. Scared that my pleasure will end with him pulling out, a cloud of lust masks my judgment. I arch my back, forcing him to stay.
A deep, heavy groan thunders through his chest and mine. Tingles weave through my body from the top of my head to the bottom of my feet. I buck into him harder as he spills everything into me. Fuck.
“Nothing will ever compare to this.” His voice is husky and still laced with need. “I missed you so much.”
I lift myself off of him and turn around. “Upstairs?”
His pupils dilate as a sly smile transforms his face. “Fuck, yes.”
Who needs sleep anyway?