Chapter 18
Jake
F or a long, silent moment, I hold my breath. Rosa’s backlit by the last remnants of the setting sun and the dim porch light above. Her hair glows rich brown, framing her shadowed face. Even in the growing twilight, I can see the gleam in her eyes.
She lets go of my hand, and I swallow. If she doesn’t want this, I can respect that. I’d never force myself on anyone, let alone the woman I?—
Rosa steps forward, wraps her arms around my neck, and pulls me down into a fierce kiss.
Hunger surges through me as she strokes her tongue into my mouth. This isn’t a soft, tentative kiss like the one in the kitchen the other day. No, this is heat and fire and passion, her teeth nipping at my lower lip, her hands gripping my hair. Her fingers tug at the strands, and I groan into her mouth.
She pulls back, eyes searching mine, and nods once. “Let’s go upstairs,” she whispers, and it takes everything in me not to drop to my knees.
Instead, I grab her hand and pull her to the door, ignoring her laughing protest at leaving the glasses and wine bottles outside. “I promise you—I will come down and clean up. After.”
“After?” Her voice is breathy, a hitch to it that tells me she’s as aroused as I am.
“ After whatever you’re up for, darlin’.” I tug her inside, closing the door behind us before I turn her around, press her up against it, and kiss her.
Just because I can. Just because I’ve wanted to since the day she agreed to take me on.
Just because.
I trail kisses down her jaw, her throat, dipping my tongue into the hollow at the base of her neck. She moans and tilts her head back, giving me better access. “Soft,” she whispers.
“What?” I murmur, arms full of a warm, sexy Rosa.
“Your beard is soft,” she says, tipping her head to the side so I can hear her better. “I’ve never kissed someone with a beard before. I thought it would be more—wiry, or something. Scratchy.”
“If you think my beard feels good when I’m kissing you, just wait until it’s between your thighs,” I growl, and suddenly the teasing is replaced with something darker, more heated. She tightens her arms around my neck and whimpers.
I can’t wait.
I kiss her again, deeper this time, one hand stroking down her spine until I’m cupping her perfect ass. I squeeze lightly, and she practically melts against me.
“I thought…we were going…upstairs,” she gasps, her body plastered against mine from shoulder to knee. I can feel her chest rise with every breath.
“Yes, ma’am,” I say, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to the swell of her left breast. My other hand joins the first, and I lift her up, urging her wordlessly to wrap her legs around my waist. She giggles, clinging to my shoulders as both of my hands grip her butt. I carry her up the stairs, then stop at the landing.
She pulls back, looking at me quizzically. I tip my head to the left, then the right. “Your place or mine?”
She rolls her eyes.
I don’t want to admit it, but I like that we’re able to have fun with this, too. It’s hot and sexy and tantalizing, but it’s also goofy and playful.
Just like Rosa herself.
At least the Rosa I knew. The Rosa I married.
“I’ve got the bigger bed,” she answers, and I turn toward her room. Once inside, I kick the door shut and stride forward, the light of the moon rising over the hills behind the house dappling the comforter through the gauzy drapes. I press one more hard kiss to her luscious mouth—and drop her right onto the middle of the bed.
Rosa throws her head back as she laughs, bouncing on the mattress. Her hair drapes along the pillows piled up at the headboard, and her eyelashes look a million miles long, fluttering against the tops of her cheeks.
She leans back on her elbows, looking at me through those gorgeous lashes, lips curving up in a seductive smile. “Well? Aren’t you going to join me?”
With a growl, I climb onto the bed and crawl forward until I’m hovering over her, my knees on either side of her hips. Leaning down, I stop a breath away from her mouth and whisper, “Tell me what you want.”
“You,” she says simply, then puts a hand in my hair and pulls me down.