Chapter 17
Shira
Finally.
Jonny lays me down on the nest of blankets he stole for us, gazing down at me like I’m the gift he’s been waiting for. I reach for the hem of my new ugly sweater, but he stops me, holding my hand.
“Nope,” he says, smirking. “That’s my job.”
Happy to comply, I settle back against the quilt he laid over the rug, which isn’t nearly as soft and comfortable as it looks.
But I’m not about to say anything that could put the brakes on this moment.
Jonny reaches down and slowly lifts the sweater his sisters made for me, pausing when it’s over my face.
“What?” I say, muffled from under my sweater.
“Just admiring the view.” His voice is a little rough, like he’s finding this slow restraint just as painful as I am.
“You should probably see it all, then.” Smiling, I lift my arms so he can slip the sweater over my head.
Instead of tossing it to the side, he folds it and puts it beneath my head like a pillow. “That’s better,” he murmurs. His gaze drifts down my body, then back up to my face, his eyes shining with a mixture of desire and something else. Tenderness, maybe? “You are just the prettiest thing.”
My cheeks flush. “You think so?”
“From the very first time I saw you.”
Slowly, he lowers himself over me, lips skimming lightly over my lips before dropping down to my neck. He nips at my collarbone, tasting as he makes his way down. “How do you taste like this?” he whispers.
“Like what?”
“Sweet. Like powdered sugar and vanilla.”
I’m about to answer when he puts his hands on me—big and warm and a little rough, spanning my waist, sliding up to my ribs to my breasts until he’s palming me, his thumbs brushing against my nipples.
They stiffen against the lacy fabric of my bra, and I arch my back. A soft moan slips out of my mouth.
“That sound,” he murmurs, his eyes drifting closed, his forehead knotting almost like he’s in pain. “I need more of that.”
But he doesn’t move to take my bra off yet. He’s lost in some private haze, lips tracing a slow, deliberate path from my neck to my collarbone to between my breasts, while his hands roam like they own every curve of me.
He hums, low, appreciative, as if everything he touches and tastes is delicious.
I’m lit up like a menorah on the last night of Hanukkah, every nerve ending flickering with desire.
When he puts his mouth right over my nipple and sucks through the fabric of my bra, a sharp bolt of heat runs through me. I moan again, louder.
“Yeah, like that,” he says, his voice low. “Let me hear how I make you feel.”
We’re not even naked, and I think this might already be the best sex I’ve ever had.
Slowly, methodically, taking his time like I knew he would, he kisses his way down my belly, stopping at the waistband of my jeans.
He looks up at me; his eyes are almost primal in their intensity. “Yes?” he asks, his fingers on the button of my jeans.
“Yes,” I say, my breath already growing erratic. “Yes to all of it, to everything. You can do whatever you want with me.”
“Good news for me; bad news for you.” His lips quirk in a smile as he unzips my jeans. I lift my hips so he can slide them down, taking his sweet time, peeling them off me before tossing them aside.
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says, looking down at me with something like awe on his face.
“Don’t tell me,” I say, wrapping my leg around his. “Show me.”
“Yes, ma’am.” He hooks his thumbs inside my panties and sends them off in the same direction as my jeans. Normally, I might move to cover myself, pull the blanket over me, but the way his eyes glaze over as they drift down my body, it’s clear he likes what he sees. “Fuck, Shira, I want you so bad.”
“Then hurry up and take me.”
“Patience,” he teases. “I’m getting there.”
He crawls over me, still fully dressed—which I want to remedy, but first…
his mouth claims mine in a deep, hungry kiss that leaves me breathless.
He takes my bottom lip between his, sucking gently as his hand drifts down.
I bend my knee and let my legs fall open, giving him full access.
“That’s right,” he murmurs against my mouth, before kissing me again.
His fingers find my center, circling and stroking, like I showed him the other night. Heat pools in my stomach, sliding down my legs like liquid gold. The man pays attention, and there’s nothing hotter than that.
“How do you feel this good?” he asks, his eyes drifting closed as he dips a finger inside me, then another. “So ready for me.”
I squirm beneath him, lifting my hips, urging him deeper as my breathing quickens. “Been ready for you for a while,” I say, then gasp as he slides his fingers to a spot that makes me light up.
His breath is hot on my ear as he whispers, “I need to taste you.”
“Do it.”
He smirks and gives me one more kiss before his lips trail back down my body, settling between my legs.
My hands grip the blanket beneath me, bracing myself for what’s coming next.
But of course, he still takes his time, slowly lifting my left leg so it’s resting on his shoulder as he kisses down my thigh.
Then he presses his tongue flat against me, and my hips jump.
“Jonny,” I gasp.
“Yes, love?”
“More of that.”
His low chuckle rumbles through me as he tastes me, teasing, exploring. I reach down, sliding my hands into his hair, letting my nails rasp against his scalp. “Oh yeah,” he groans. “More of that.”
And I’m happy to oblige, loving that I can make him feel good while he makes me just about lose my mind. He’s still taking his time, circling, sucking, paying attention to every sound I make. Soon, I’m boneless, a bundle of nerves, sparking to life at his every touch.
I keep one hand in his hair but slip the other one under my bra, pinching my nipple to heighten the sensation.
His tongue flicks against my center, and suddenly, I am starlight.
My back arches, my legs tighten, and I cry out, riding the wave of ecstasy as he holds my hips in place and continues to draw out every last drop of pleasure from me.
When I open my eyes again, Jonny’s next to me, propped up on an elbow, looking down at me with a satisfied smile.
“I am so pissed at you,” I whisper, barely able to form the words.
His eyebrows pull together. “Why?”
“For making me wait so long for that.”
He laughs and pulls me closer to him, pressing a kiss to the top of my head. “I’ll have to make up for lost time while I’ve got you, then.”
His words send a tiny pang through my chest, a reminder that we don’t have many days left. But I tell myself to focus on what I’ve got right now, in front of me.
“I have a very serious question for you,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Why aren’t you naked?”
His face breaks into a grin. “You’re so horny it’s adorable.”
“I’ve been thinking about it since you fixed my shelves.” I tug him down so he’s on his back, then swing my leg so I’m straddling his hips. “I’m not normally like this.”
“What are you normally like?”
“Reserved.” I take off my bra, the last piece of clothing I have left, and watch his eyes grow wide. “Responsible. Really, really patient.”
“Interesting,” he says, reaching up to touch me, and the feeling of his hands on my skin, his fingers on my nipples, sends goosebumps running down my arms and legs. “Because with me you’ve been reckless, needy, desperate—”
I smack his chest lightly, and he catches my hand. “Irresistible,” he says, pressing my hand to his lips. “Sexy. Gorgeous.”
My hands move to the top button of his shirt, undoing it with trembling fingers. Jonny shifts beneath me, wincing.
I stop, mid-button. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” he says. “Don’t stop—the ground is just…concrete under this.”
I laugh, and my fingers start moving again. “We could go back to your truck?”
“Nope. We’re not moving. Get on with it.”
“Yes, sir.” I finally reach the last button and open his shirt. My hands falter. None of my previous experiences with men have prepared me for what I’m seeing now.
Of course, he’d have a body like this—broad, muscular shoulders and chest, the right side covered in black ink that crawls from his pec to his shoulder.
When he sits up enough so he can shrug out of his shirt, I see that the tattoo curls down to his elbow.
I’d love to trace every inch of it with my tongue, but I can’t stop staring at the rest of him: sun-warmed skin, lean muscles, and a faint line of light-brown hair arrowing from his navel into his waistband.
“The farther this goes, the more pissed off at you I’m getting,” I tell him, running my hands over his chest. “How dare you look this good and keep me waiting so long?”
He only grins in response, folding one hand back behind his head in a lazy, confident pose that makes my mouth go dry and my thighs tighten around him.
“You’re impossible,” I tell him, though I’m smiling.
“Yet you keep coming back for more.”
Shaking my head, I scoot down on his body so I can unbutton his jeans.
“How mad am I going to be when I take off your pants?” I say, running my fingers, feather light, over the bulge in his jeans.
Jonny hisses in pleasure. “You’ll forgive me the second I’m inside you.”
He’s probably right, based on the sneak peek I got in the truck. I unzip his jeans, eager to get a good look at him. Jonny lifts his hips, and I slide his jeans down.
A laugh bursts out of me when I see his boxers.
Jonny grins. “You like?”
“I like,” I say, admiring the boxers that say, “Big Dreidel Energy” with a bunch of smiling dreidels dancing all around. “But they’ve got to go.”
The boxers get added to the pile of our discarded clothes, and I wrap my fingers around him, stroking as I lick my lips. “Everything really is bigger in Texas,” I tease, lowering my mouth to take him in.
“Fuck,” Jonny hisses as I swirl my tongue around his tip, bobbing my head to take him as deep as I can while I continue to stroke his length. He’s leaning up on one arm, his other hand wrapped around my hair, holding it up so he can watch exactly what I’m doing.
“Shira.” He says my name like it’s a gift, like I’m a gift, and I reward him by taking him even deeper. His hips pulse, and I can tell he’s holding himself back. “Yes, yes, just like that. So good. So fucking good.”
His words make me want to give him even more, so I drop my jaw and let him sink all the way back.
He rewards me with a low groan that makes my entire body go hot.
I pull back just before I start to gag—there is nothing sexy about that—and turn my attention back to his tip, swirling my tongue around him.
Suddenly, Jonny sits up. His eyes are wild, pupils blown out. “I need to be inside you. Now.”
Before I can even respond, he pulls me toward him so I’m on his lap, chest to chest, my knees straddling his hips.
He dives in for a kiss, all tongue and teeth and desperate gasps.
His hands are everywhere—gripping my waist, sliding over my back, fisting in my hair, claiming me completely.
He’s hard against my stomach, and I’m aching to reach down and guide him where I want him.
Before I lose myself completely, I pull back enough to lean over and grab my jeans to pull out the condom I tucked in my pocket earlier. It’s wrapped in gold paper, with a bow tied around it.
“One more gift,” I say, handing it to him.
His eyes lock on mine as he unties the bow with his teeth before tearing the package open. “Impressive.”
“I’ve gotten really good at gift wrapping since working here.”
“And unwrapping.”
He hands me the condom, eyebrows raised, and I take it. He clenches his jaw and exhales sharply as I roll it on him. Then I lift up and position myself so he’s at my entrance.
“Take your time,” he says, voice low.
He’s right to warn me because even though I’m dying to move quickly, he’s bigger than I’m used to. Slowly, I lower myself, my eyelids fluttering at the intensity of the stretching.
“That’s right,” he whispers, like he’s coaching me along. “So good. You take me so well.”
He’s watching me with a gaze so dark and intense it steals my breath. The tendons in his neck are standing out, like he’s trying to restrain himself.
But we’ve waited too long to let this be anything less than everything.
“Don’t hold back,” I say.
“We’ll get there.” He lifts a hand to brush my hair away from my face, then slides his hand into my hair, cradling the back of my head. Slowly, carefully, watching my face, he rocks his hips.
I moan, my eyes fluttering closed.
“Eyes on me.” His voice is low. Commanding.
I obey, opening my eyes to meet his—dark blue, flickering in the candlelight. Another slow roll of his hips, deeper now, and I whimper softly.
He pauses, eyes narrowed as he searches my face.
I take a shuddering breath, then nod. “More.”
The corner of his mouth lifts in a dangerous smirk. “That’s my girl.”
He keeps one hand cradling my head and slides the other down to cup my ass, guiding me in a leisurely rhythm.
He’s murmuring words of appreciation, telling me I’m beautiful, that he’s never felt anything so good in his life, that I’m everything he wants.
My body flushes with pleasure; I’ve never been with a man who said things like this during sex.
Knowing that I’m pleasing him, that he’s enjoying this as much as I am, makes everything better.
He shifts his hips, and the next thrust hits something new inside me. Pleasure flares so sharply it’s almost pain. My eyes roll back, and a helpless sound escapes my throat. “Jonny…”
“Look at me, love.”
I force my eyes open, blinking through the haze. His face fills my vision—flushed, a lock of hair falling across his forehead. His eyes are fierce. Raw. Like he’s barely holding it together.
“Shira.” He thrusts into me again, harder. “Stay with me.”
The words send a shockwave through me, a plea wrapped in a command. “I’m here.”
His breath catches, his rhythm faltering. “Stay with me,” he says again, but softer now, like a prayer.
“I’m not going anywhere.” I grip his shoulders tighter, anchoring us both.
“Not tonight. Not ever.”
Heat surges through me. He moves faster, desperation edging into every thrust, his hands gripping me as if I’m the only thing holding him together. “Stay,” he growls, almost pleading now.
The word cracks something open in me, and I arch into him, gasping. He breaks, shuddering against me, arms locking around me like he never wants to let me go, holding me so tightly it aches.
And even though I know he doesn’t mean stay, as in forever, in this moment, it feels possible. Here, in this candlelit bookshop, with his arms around me, his heart beating in sync with mine. A single, reckless thought flares in my mind—I don’t want to leave this man.