Chapter 14 #2
Somehow, I gain control of my voice, though it comes out strained. “Yeah, I’ll allow it.”
She guides my hand lower, right where she wants it, showing me how she likes to be touched. Circling and teasing as she arches against me, her breathy sighs making my entire body go hot.
“I want your fingers inside me,” she whispers, moving my hand to do just that, then sliding my fingers out again, slick and soft, and I swear to God I don’t remember why I had this stupid plan to wait in the first place.
I’m sitting on a bed with a woman who is so damn ready to go, who’s made her desires crystal clear, so why the fuck am I not tossing her on her back and burying myself inside her right this second?
“Jonny,” she gasps, snapping me out of that.
“Yes, love?” The endearment slips out before I can think.
“I’m so close.”
Her whole body is tight, taut, electric, and suddenly nothing matters but giving her exactly what she’s craving.
Her hand falls away from mine, and I take over, mirroring the movements she was guiding me through, letting her breathing tell me if I’m on the right track.
She’s starting to squirm a little, and I wrap my other arm around her torso, pulling her flush against me.
As soon as I do, she relaxes, like all she needed was to know I’ve got her.
And then, fuck me, somehow I’m pressing a kiss to the top of her head, whispering against her hair as her breathing goes ragged. That’s right. I’ve got you. Let go, baby. Let go.
My chest is constricting, a low, throbbing pressure that has nothing to do with the heat between us.
It’s more than arousal. More than desire.
This is something else. Something that makes me want to pull her close and never let go.
An urge to protect her, claim her—not in a controlling way, but like she’s irreplaceable and precious and mine.
The word echoes in my head, soft but insistent: mine, mine, mine.
She shivers against me, legs beginning to tremble. “So close,” she whispers.
But I can still feel the hesitation lingering in her body, holding her back, and I bring my lips to her ear, voice low, reverent, spilling out words I hadn’t even planned:
“You know what present I always saved for last? Not the biggest box, not the shiniest paper. It was the one that felt like it had a secret inside. The gift I never even dared to hope for, the one I was almost scared to open because I wanted it so badly. Shira, that’s you.
You’re like that final gift. You make me want to slow down, savor every aching moment.
Because I know, without a doubt, that you’ll be worth every second of the wait. ”
And then she breaks—back arching, legs tightening, letting out a wild sound that vibrates against me. I hold her as she rides it out, murmuring low reassurances until she finally goes limp, her body melting into mine.
I press a soft kiss to the curve of her shoulder, letting her warmth settle against me. And then all I feel is the slow, all-consuming, totally foreign and downright terrifying sensation of never, ever wanting to let her go.
We spend the rest of the evening entirely on her bed—eating ice cream while watching a Hanukkah movie on the Hallmark channel (one of only a few, she tells me).
When it’s over, we stay there curled up on the bed facing each other, foreheads resting together, eyes half-closed.
Talking and laughing, sharing stories from childhood, high school, and college.
Fingers trace lazy patterns along arms and shoulders, lips brushing in soft, lingering kisses.
Time slips by, hours feeling like minutes.
It’s well past midnight when I reluctantly peel myself away and get up. She walks me to the door, her hair a little messy, her clothes rumpled. I can’t help myself from putting my arms around her and pulling her into a long, tight hug, just breathing her in.
I want more of this.
The thought hits me like a fist to the stomach.
She’s leaving on Christmas Day, and whatever this is between us has a ticking clock.
A holiday fling, like she said. And that’s great.
That’s fine. Except…shit. There’s that twinge in my chest again, like I want to open up my ribcage and tuck her inside, keep her safe, keep her warm. Make her mine.
I take a step back, forcing myself to loosen my grip, but I can’t stop my hand from brushing the curve of her waist as I let go. She looks up at me, all sleepy-eyed and soft, and my heart stutters. One week left.
“What are you doing tomorrow evening?” I ask.
“I don’t know, what am I doing, Jonny?”
The teasing note in her voice makes me grin. “Hopefully, you’re joining me for the Great McKay Gingerbread Decorating Party?”
“Um, sure. I don’t think I’ve ever decorated gingerbread before, but it sounds really…cute.”
I snort. “It’s definitely not cute. We’ve been doing this since we were kids, and every year it starts out wholesome until someone gives a gingerbread lady a pair of gumdrop boobs, and someone else pulls the legs off a gingerbread man and names him Lieutenant Dan.”
She laughs. “By someone and someone else, do you mean you and you?”
“Maybe...” My hand sneaks out and wraps around her waist, pulling her against me again because I already miss her feel of her. “But my siblings are just as bad in their own ways. Brace yourself.”
“If I can handle you, I bet I can handle them.”
“That’ll be the sixth night of Hanukkah, right?” I say, and she nods. “Could you bring your menorah? We can light the candles there.”
“You sure? I don’t want to take over your family’s tradition.”
“Believe me, it’ll be welcomed by everyone. A little moment of serenity in the chaos.”
She smiles, soft and almost shy. “Okay. Can’t wait.”
I pull her close again, pressing my lips to the top of her head because apparently that’s something I can’t keep from doing around her. “Me neither.”
After one last goodbye kiss, I head outside and into the cool night, a goofy smile tugging at my lips.
My mind drifts, remembering the warmth of her, the softness of her skin, the sound of her laugh.
I can still smell her on me, and I start thinking about the next time I’ll get to be with her, how I’ll hold her, kiss her, make her laugh again.
When I get in the truck, I close the door, lean back against the headrest, and close my eyes. As I do, her face flashes in my mind: big brown eyes, flushed cheeks, soft lips. Groaning, I shake my head.
I am so fucked.