Chapter 15
fifteen
KIT
Apocalypse – Cigarettes After Sex
Coming home to the lodge felt familiar – too familiar – almost like it could all be home.
“Tea?” Jonah headed towards the kitchen, pulling his bobble hat off. I followed him up the stairs, bag from the shop in hand, the warmth in the house beginning to chase away the chill.
“Yeah,” I said, placing our shopping down on the counter, bottles clinking against each other. “Please.”
I moved over to the soft couch, pulling off the only pair of sensible shoes I’d packed, letting my toes stretch out. I hadn’t so much as glanced at those high-heeled boots I’d stomped around town in my first night, and my soles were thankful for the respite.
Behind me, Jonah raised hell in the kitchen. Now fully trained, I could make out the sound of the kettle being filled, the noise of two mugs being placed on the counter, the teabag container opening.
Second nature.
I wasn’t sure what had possessed me to pitch staying a few more days, but it was the easiest decision in the world.
I’d gone from plotting any means of escape to a voluntary extension, and as Jonah reached up high in the cupboard for some sugar and I caught the stretch of his back – those strong arms and his perfect arse – I knew there was no doubt of my reasoning for the latter.
Standing up, I closed the space between us, pressing up behind him, my arms wrapping around his torso.
His pine scent enveloped me, as if the smell of this place clung to his body.
Jonah stilled under my touch, the large expanse of strong muscle turning firm and rigid for a moment before softening under my fingertips, relenting, melting into the embrace.
I rested my head against his back, feeling the sound of his voice deep in his chest as he murmured, “You okay there?”
“I needed a hug,” I answered.
He laughed lowly. “Glad I could be of service.” His hands gripped my wrists softly, raising them from the embrace to allow his slim body to rotate, bringing us face to face. “Come here,” he said, his arms pulling me unexpectedly up, my bum sitting comfortably on the counter.
Now at eye level with him, I found a cheeky look held deep in those beautiful brown eyes, a sly smile across his lips.
He took a moment, his eyes searching my face and fingers pushing strands of hair back behind my ears, before placing a soft kiss on my forehead, lips tracing down the side of my face.
I could get used to this.
“I get better access this way.” His breath was hot against my still-cold cheek as he trailed down towards my neck, nudging my blonde hair out of the way with his nose. The contact sent sparks down my spine to ignite a fire low in my stomach.
My eyes closed, back arching into his touch, head tilting to give full access to my neck. His lips worked, finding every sensitive spot along the skin, while my hands pulled at his knitted jumper, fingers slow and yearning for bare skin.
Jonah’s breathing became heavy, his chest heaving as we grew hungrier and hungrier, like our patience while waiting to get home had run dry, hands desperately ready to tear each other’s clothes off again.
But this time, it was different; something weightier than the carnal need for a box of condoms sat between us.
My brain began that dance again, overanalysing what had happened earlier.
“You know what I said back at Archie’s,” I started, my voice breathless as I tried to concentrate on anything but the brush of his soft lips and the calloused hand delicately travelling up under my shirt. “About staying until after New Year.”
His attention snapped up, the look of seriousness chasing away the lust I’d seen there a moment ago. “Did you change your mind?” he asked, with no space in his tone for anything but concern.
I shook my head. “No, of course not. I didn’t ask yo—”
He cut me off with a sharp kiss, the slide of lips against mine intoxicating, like he knew exactly what to do to stop me from spiralling.
“Don’t,” he said, insisting. “I want you to stay.”
My eyes searched his, looking for the lie. There was only strength, an adamance in his words. “You do?”
His shoulder slacked, his lips curling. “Of course,” he said, and for a second I was lost again in his eyes, caught up in the heat there.
This was bound to be messy, whatever this was between us.
Maybe it was fate. Eleven days of forever.
“I want all the time I can get with you,” he said, his voice breaking.
“I don’t plan on wasting another second of it. ”
My lips met his, a crash of tongues, the last shred of my self-control snapping.
It was like a gun had gone off and we’d started the race to see who could strip the other naked first. My hands pulled on his jumper, raising it up to reveal the hard muscle of his stomach, his hands working the soft cashmere over my head and tossing it aside to reveal a cotton thermal.
“Another layer.” He tsked playfully, untangling himself from me long enough to remove his knit.
With a cocky smirk, I pulled the thin cotton off, shrugging my bra off to speed us ahead. Leaning back, I grinned. “Happy now?”
His response was nothing but a throaty murmur, words currently beyond his capability.
Almost distractedly, his hands traced my body, soft and careful, as if he were afraid I’d disappear if he was too rough.
I took the moment to take him in instead, my mouth watering at the sight of carved muscle, the dips and rise of his shoulders.
“Remind me to send you out to chop firewood later,” I joked, his hands circling my waist. “Any chance you can do it topless?” My fingers traced the line along the top of his shoulders, and I watched delightfully as he shivered, as I tracked every valley and peak.
“Only if you wanna watch me turn blue while I do it.”
“I’ll make sure to warm you up before anything falls off.” I pulled his chest back to mine, the heat of his body against mine like a roaring fire. Warm, cozy. Just like home.
His lips met mine again, and with a soft tug his fingers knotted in my hair, tilting my head back to bring the kiss deeper. His mouth moved slowly, savouring while my tongue teased at his playfully.
“Lift your hips,” he instructed. “I want these off.” A shaky finger undid the button of my jeans before his hands slid down the sides of my arse, nearly tearing the fly open.
I was barely off the counter before he’d slid the material down, not even sparing the moment to take them all the way off, leaving them yanked down to my calves. I didn’t care. I was too busy enjoying his hand between my legs.
His fingers worked, rubbing and teasing through a wet patch, my need for him evident.
“All for me?” he spoke, his tone hoarse. “You feel so good,” he added, his finger dipping underneath the lace material. My head rolled back as I let his hand slide further down, Jonah knowing exactly how I liked to be touched. “So wet.”
His finger sped up in intensity while still taking long, teasing strokes. I moaned, my hands sliding back on the counter, losing my balance through the waves of pleasure.
“You’re so fucking perfect. So good for me,” he praised, his touch dipping, the pad of his finger teasingly tapping my clit.
“Jonah,” I moaned under my breath, his name a sin on my lips.
“Fuck, I love when you say my name.” His lips met my neck, travelling down until he captured a nipple in his mouth, sucking hard, biting with a graze of his teeth as his fingers found my entrance. He lined up two fingers, only allowing the tip to sink inside.
I wanted him, all of him. Wanted to feel him sink inside of me, see if we were as perfect a fit as I’d imagined.
Using any leverage I could, I rocked my hips against his hand, trying to bring him deeper. Still, he teased, restraining himself, only giving me his fingers. And as they sunk deeper, my moans growing louder, I knew I only wanted to feel his cock. Needed his pleasure to match my own.
Pushing up, my hands went to his belt, fingers unfocused as he curled inside of me, ribbons of pleasure running up my spine, curling at my toes. “Jonah, please,” I begged, my voice shaking. My fingers unbuckled his belt, moving to the top button of his jeans. “I can’t wait anymore.”
“I know, baby.” His eyes met mine as his hand withdrew from between my legs. Raising his hand, he slid the two fingers up to my mouth. “Taste yourself. I want you to understand how crazy you drive me.”
I didn’t question it, my lips parting to take his fingers, tongue swirling and sucking. His eyes lit up, the fire behind them ranging as he smirked. “Good girl.”
Moving from my mouth to his, he tasted his fingers, that daring smirk still on his lips. Wasting no more time, I reached for the thick outline in his briefs, the material strained and damp against the tip.
Jonah moaned, the sound a delight as I teased him, all the while growing impatient for more. His head fell back as I worked his length with my hand, dipping behind the elastic band to feel his shaft in my palm.
“Fuck, Kit.” He barely managed the words, speaking through gritted teeth. “Get a condom.”
I leaned over, grabbing the box from the end of the counter, barely containing myself as I tore it open, throwing the foiled squares all over the kitchen. Jonah laughed as we looked around, seeing the mess I had made.
Grabbing one that had landed on the counter, I tossed it to Jonah, who smiled. “I guess we’re done with taking our time.”
I bit my lip, leaning back to enjoy the view as he placed the packet in between his teeth, ripping it open, then carefully rolling the condom onto his thick length.
His eyes flickered to mine, a hint of nerves appearing in the crinkle of his forehead. “Are you sure?” His voice was a spoken plea before we lost ourselves in each other. “We can stop if you want.”
“I don’t want to,” I said. “I want you. I want to feel you.”
His face brightened instantly, the curve of his lips revealing his relief.