Chapter 35
Jen searched his face, needing truth more than comfort, even if it hurt. “Even knowing it might not be real?”
His fingers teased her skin, light enough that she could have pulled away. “Even knowing it might not be.”
She could tell herself this was adrenaline. Proximity. A body still humming from danger. Two days. A crisis. Nothing solid enough to stand on.
But she wasn’t choosing safety.
She was choosing the risk of wanting. Choosing to step forward instead of bracing for the fall. To hope again, knowing exactly what hope had cost her before. “I want to find out too.”
Something shifted in his expression—relief, maybe. Or recognition. Whatever it was, it landed hard enough to make her heart drum.
The air between them grew charged—still heavy with everything unsaid, but alive now, vibrating beneath her skin. She soaked in the steady rise and fall of his chest beneath her palm. The warmth of him. His hands gentle at her waist.
She pushed herself up slowly and swung her leg over him, settling astride his hips. The sheet slid away, cool air skimming her skin, but his hands were warm and firm at her sides.
“You sure?” He asked in a roughened whisper.
“I just told you I’m terrified.” She looked down at him, letting him see everything—the fear, the want, the choice. “And I’m choosing this anyway.”
His fingers firmed at her waist.
She leaned down and kissed him.
A slow, open kiss she sank into, loving the shape of his mouth, the warmth of his breath, the way his lips parted for her like he’d been waiting.
A low sound slipped from his throat.
His hands slid up her sides, careful around her ribs, then higher—cupping the weight of her breasts, thumbs brushing slowly, reverently, as if committing the feel of her to memory. His touch sent heat spiraling low in her belly.
She broke the kiss just enough to breathe.
His eyes were dark now, pupils blown, fixed on her face. Watching. Waiting.
She reached for the nightstand and found another condom without looking away from him. Her hands were steady this time as she rolled it on. The sound he made when she touched him almost undid her.
The angle was different like this—deeper, fuller. She sank down slowly, savoring the stretch, the heat of him.
His hands tightened on her hips, strong enough to ground her, still stroking her breasts as if he couldn’t stop touching her.
But he didn’t thrust or take control.
He let her move.
Jen rolled her hips, slowly at first, finding the rhythm that sent sparks racing up her spine. Pleasure bloomed, deep, building.
His hands followed her movement, guiding her rhythm. “That’s it,” he breathed. “Just like that.”
The praise went straight through her. She moved faster, chasing the feeling building inside her.
He slid a hand between them. His thumb found her clit, pressing with the same deliberate precision he brought to everything. She gasped. Her rhythm faltered.
“I’ve got you,” he said, voice wrecked. “Let go.”
Her climax crashed over her—fierce, overwhelming, her whole body trembling with the force of it as she cried out, undone. She gripped his shoulders, nails digging in, holding on while pleasure rewrote every nerve ending.
Wyatt followed seconds later, the thick heat of him pulsing inside her, her name torn from his throat.
She collapsed forward, her head against the curve of his neck. His arms came around her immediately, holding her close.
She stayed like that. Connected. Breath still shaky.
Chosen.
Just for being her.
“Okay?” he asked after a moment.
“Very.”
His chest moved with his laugh, deep and resonant. “Yeah. Same.”
They stayed like that, her body still draped over his, the sheet twisted around their legs. His hand trailed languid lines across her back.
Eventually, she shifted and rolled to the side. Wyatt followed her movement, tucking her against his chest, his arm heavy across her waist.
His phone sat face-down on the nightstand. The world was finally quiet.
Sleep drifted closer. The exhaustion of events catching up. The solid presence of him. Safety. The steady thump of his heart close to hers.
“Sleep,” he murmured against her hair.
“Mm.”
She let her eyes close. Let herself sink into the feeling of being held.
Of being his.
His breathing evened out first. Deep and slow.
She followed him down into the dark, his heartbeat steady against her back. For the first time she could remember, the fear was quiet.
And the quiet felt like enough.