CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Avonlea – Now
Oh god. Ohgodohgodohgod.
Jamie’s lips are feather-light as they travel from hip bone to hip bone, showing extra care to every stretch mark, not fazed in the slightest by the differences in my body.
He sits back on his heels, taking my shirt with him, and I let the rest of my insecurity go at the look in his eyes. He can’t fake that look. The desire, the uninhibited longing. Like he’s been waiting for this moment for as long as I have.
He coasts his fingertips from my hands, up the inside of my arms, to my collarbone, where they slip just barely underneath the straps of my bra.
My breath catches, the feel of his fingers leaving a branding fire in their wake, just like his kisses did along my belly.
I release a rough exhale, and his fingers follow the movement over the cups of my bra as my chest lowers.
There is a zing of anticipation as they pass over where my nipples are peaked under the fabric.
“Jamie,” I breathe, eyes squeezing shut. The sensations, the fact that it’s him with me right now… It’s overwhelming.
“Is this okay? We can slow down. We don’t have to—”
“No,” I pant, opening my eyes and mustering every ounce of confidence within me. “I don’t want slow, not with you.”
That fire in his eyes burns brighter and the smile that goes with it reduces me to my basest instincts.
It’s the smile I’ve always loved, the smile I’ve missed more than air these past eleven years.
It’s my smile. I press up into a sitting position and pull my legs in so I’m on my knees before him.
We’re eye to eye now, only inches separating us, and I’m ready to close that gap, but I want to see him first.
The green paint of my fingernails stands out against the white of his button-down, making their trembling that much more obvious.
I curl them under the hem and, with painful slowness, move to undo the bottom button, and then another, exposing the skin I’ve dreamt of for years.
Seeing him in the garden with his shirt off was nothing compared to having him this close.
He’s intoxicating. The masculine scent of him overtakes my senses as I move higher.
My fingers trail ever so gently against the smooth skin on his sides and he shivers.
I reach his chest and feel his heart beating frantically beneath my hands.
He shifts his shoulders back so I can slide the shirt off and finish what I started.
I throw it to the floor where it lands with a soft thud and my hands are on him, hungry to memorize every inch of exposed skin.
But what I want more is his skin on mine, so I surge forward, moving my hands into his hair as our bodies collide.
My softness against his hard lines and muscle, a perfect dichotomy. A perfect fit.
The give and take of our lips, tongues, teeth, all show how desperate we are.
The rest of the world always disappeared when we got our mouths on each other, and that hasn’t changed.
But this kiss… this one is world-ending, devastating, the kiss to beat out all other kisses.
Because this kiss isn’t two teenagers fumbling with feelings and nerves, nor is it laced with the unknown like those of the last two weeks.
It’s knowing and being known. It is a revelation, a promise. This kiss is everything.
We don’t slow—our mouths fused, hands roaming, breathing ragged—but we do shift, moving until we’re lying on the bed with Jamie firmly propped between my thighs. I can feel him hard against me, and when he shifts his body forward an inch, I gasp, fireflies dancing behind my eyelids.
He trails his lips to my ear with another roll of his hips. Another gasp escapes. “We can do this all night, Avi. I can get you there and I can come in my pants like a teenager and we can think about doing more another time, or…”
“Or. I definitely want whatever comes after that or. Please.” I’m a whimpering mess, but I don’t even care because this is Jamie, and he’s pressed against me in a way that has my entire body built up like a volcano.
I’m sure I could actually come like this, but that’s not how I want it. Not tonight.
He chuckles against my ear, and with one more shift of his hips that makes me groan, he pulls back enough to rake his eyes over me again.
I follow suit. Fair’s fair. There are scars I’ve never seen before, stories we will have time for later, but I’m not worried about those as he reaches for the button on his jeans and slides down the zipper.
When he climbs off the bed to shuck them off, leaving them in a heap by his shirt, I take the opportunity to say farewell to mine as well. I shimmy them down my legs until Jamie’s hands meet mine to give them their final tug, discarding them with the rest.
He lies down beside me, on his side, fingers tracing my hip and down my thigh. “Did I tell you that you’re beautiful yet?”
He knows he has, but I nod anyway, feeling my already flushed skin warm more under his perusal.
I’m not in sexy lingerie but he devours me with his gaze as if I were.
“Did I tell you that you’re beautiful?” I parrot his words back to him.
They’re true; he’s stunning. He shakes his head with a smile and a chuckle. “Well, you are.”
I roll onto my side and our bodies press together again, hotter, more insistent as my mouth finds his and our hands begin to move more freely.
He moans and I gasp. He nips and I suck. He pinches and I squeeze. Each movement is a puzzle piece fitting together to form the whole picture. The picture of who we are now and who we’re meant to be.
We take our time. The dinner on the table forgotten, other needs taking priority over things like hunger for food. No, the only hunger that matters is the one we have for each other, and we’re voracious.
The only moment of hesitation comes just before Jamie brings us fully together, when he leans down to press the sweetest kiss to my lips and whispers, “Tha gaol agam ort.”
I love you.
And then he shows me it’s true.
We sit with bowls of reheated steak and ale pie in our laps on the couch. I’m dressed in only Jamie’s button-down shirt, and the messy bun I was sporting earlier is long gone, my hair cascading around my shoulders in chaotic waves.
“What will I have to do to earn the secret recipe for this? It’s incredible.” Jamie moans around another mouthful before tearing off a chunk of bread to dip into the thick gravy at the bottom of his bowl.
“Hmmm.” I hum and tip my head side to side. “I don’t know. It’s a closely guarded secret. I can’t go around giving it to just anybody.”
“But I’m not just anybody,” he jokes, waggling his eyebrows, “now am I?”
I laugh and set my bowl aside. He anticipates my next move and sets his down too so he can grab my waist when I settle over him, straddling his hips on the couch.
I’ve never eaten dinner in such a state of undress, but I don’t mind it with him, because considering he’s in only a pair of dark boxer briefs, there’s little between us.
And even though it’s been less than an hour, I want him again.
“I guess not.” I press a kiss to his bare chest, just above his heart. I lean back, moving my hand to replace my lips over the thumping rhythm in his chest. “Truth?” I ask, holding his gaze.
“Always,” he whispers with a kiss against my jaw.
“Did you mean it? What you said?”
The whispered Gaelic wasn’t a one-time thing while he made love to me, worshiped me, made me feel things I never imagined, but it’s still hard to believe it’s true.
“Yes.” He punctuates the word with another kiss, light and soft against my lips. “I know it’s soon, but it doesn’t feel that way at all… I’ve never not loved you. I made myself forget that I did for a while, but it was always here. It will always be here. I will always be here.”
I study him, not sure if I should let myself believe those words either. “What are you saying, Jamie?”
“I told you after our first date that I wouldn’t walk away from you again… And I won’t. I can’t. I want you, I want us… I want a relationship with Nox. I can’t have those things from Tahoe.”
“But your whole life is there… I—”
“But my whole heart is here. What good is a life without it?” he asks, tipping forward to kiss me again, and I melt against him. Letting everything he’s said fuse together the parts of my heart I never thought would heal.
And this time it’s me moving above him when the words slip from between my lips. “Tha gaol agam ort.”
I love you.