15. Lila #2
I can actually see the moment they land. His chest rises slowly beneath the thin gray T-shirt, and for once the always-composed professor looks completely unmoored. Not about the storm. Not about the science. About me. About this.
His fingers tighten carefully around mine. “Okay,” he says, like the word is something to hold onto.
I wait. Jonah exhales through his nose, gaze dropping to our joined hands before coming back up.
“I don’t need to name it tonight,” he says. “I’m not asking for that. Though, you seem to like them a lot when it comes to me.” I shake my head at him. “I just need to know I didn’t make it up.”
Something skips in my chest.
“The way you kissed me back. The way you look at me sometimes.” He swallows. “I need to know it’s real for you too.”
There’s something that wrecks me about Jonah sounding like this. This man who can read a supercell at a glance, lying here in the dark looking at me like I’m the variable he can’t solve for.
“You think I kiss people like that when it doesn’t mean anything?” I ask.
The corner of his mouth shifts. “Honestly, I have no idea what you do. My ability to think clearly in your vicinity has been pretty significantly compromised.”
“I just…” He hesitates. “I don’t need to know what this becomes. I just need to know I’m not the only one who wants it to become something.”
The honesty in his voice makes my throat tighten.
“And what do you want it to become?”
His gaze drops briefly to my mouth before he answers.
“More.” The word comes out low and immediate. “I want more of this. More of you.” His thumb brushes lightly across my knuckles. “I want to keep finding out.”
I want that too. I want his hands on me again. I want to keep being the variable he can’t solve for.
I shift closer beneath the blankets until there’s barely any space left between us.
“You didn’t imagine it,” I say. For one suspended moment, Jonah just looks at me. “I want that too.”
Relief flickers across his expression first, followed immediately by something warmer. Deeper. The kind of look that makes my pulse feel unsteady.
Then he lifts our joined hands and presses a slow kiss against my knuckles. The gesture is so unexpectedly tender it nearly wrecks me on the spot.
Before I can overthink myself into backing away, I lean forward and kiss him.
Jonah freezes for half a second in surprise. Then he kisses me back.
And suddenly all that careful restraint he carries around cracks wide open beneath my mouth.
His hand slides around my waist instantly, pulling me closer while he kisses me with a low sound that sends heat rushing through my entire body. The kiss starts soft, almost cautious, but it deepens quickly, turning hungry in a way that makes my head spin.
I shift awkwardly because of the sling, trying to get closer anyway, and Jonah immediately adjusts with me. One strong hand settles at my hip while the other braces carefully along my back, protective even now.
Then, smoothly, he pulls me across his lap beneath the blankets. A breath catches in my throat as I end up straddling him.
Jonah looks up at me, dark hair messy from my fingers, mouth already kiss-swollen, and the expression on his face almost undoes me completely.
“Is this okay?”
The fact that he asks while holding me like this nearly melts every remaining coherent thought in my brain.
“Yes.”
His mouth crashes back into mine before the word is fully out.
The kiss turns deeper immediately. Hotter. My good hand slides into his hair while Jonah’s grip tightens at my waist, like he’s trying to keep himself under control and failing a little more every second.
And then I feel him. Hard beneath me.
Jonah must notice my reaction because he goes still for half a second, a faint flush climbing his neck.
“Lila—”
I kiss him again before he can start apologizing for wanting me. Because that’s exactly what he’s about to do.
His hand slides up my back beneath my shirt instead, fingers warm against my skin, and I swear the man shudders when I press closer. His control is slipping. The kind of control that makes me think if Jonah ever really let go, it would ruin me in the best possible way.
I drag my mouth slowly along his jaw, feeling the sharp intake of breath he tries—and fails—to suppress.
“You’re blushing again, Professor,” I murmur against his skin.
Jonah lets out a shaky laugh, his forehead falling briefly against mine. I grin against his mouth before kissing him again. He’s trying very hard to stay in control and losing ground by the second.
Every time I shift against him, his grip at my waist tightens , fingers pressing into my hips through the thin fabric of my shirt.
The heat of him beneath me is impossible to ignore now—solid and hard and very clearly affected by this as much as I am.
My pulse jumps when I feel him exhale sharply against my mouth.
“Careful,” he murmurs, voice rougher than I’ve ever heard it.
I pull back just enough to look at him. “Why? You seem to be handling this fine.”
Jonah lets out a breathless laugh that turns into something else entirely when I roll my hips against him experimentally.
His eyes close for one dangerous second.
“So that’s what breaks the professor,” I whisper.
“You are enjoying this entirely too much.”
“Absolutely.”
His hand slides higher along my back beneath my shirt, warm palm spreading against bare skin carefully—always careful because of my shoulder—but there’s nothing cautious about the way he’s looking at me now.
The restraint is there. But barely.
Jonah kisses me like I’m something to be treasured rather than taken, and somehow that’s more devastating than anything I’ve felt in years.
His hands are impossibly gentle on my skin even as his body tells a different story beneath me—hard and wanting and holding back with every ounce of willpower he has left.
“Lila.” My name comes out strangled against my mouth. “We should stop.”
“We should,” I agree, not stopping at all.
His forehead drops against mine again, and I can feel the effort it costs him to pull back even that much. His breath comes ragged, warm against my lips, and his hands settle carefully on my hips—not pulling me closer, but not letting go either.
“You’re injured,” he says, like he’s reminding himself as much as me. “And we’re both sleep-deprived and emotionally compromised and?—”
“And?”
“And this is the honeymoon suite of a motel where the bed vibrates to Elvis.”
I laugh despite everything, despite the heat pulsing through me, despite the way his voice goes rough when he says my name. “You’re not wrong.”
Jonah’s hands slide up to my waist, thumbs brushing gently along my ribs through the thin fabric of my shirt. “I don’t want our first time to be like this.”
He said first time like there will be more. Like he’s already thinking past tonight.
“I’m not going to break,” I murmur, but I know he’s right. My shoulder throbs beneath the sling, a persistent reminder that I am definitely not at full capacity.
“I know,” he says softly. “But, I want our first time to be…special? I know that sounds cliche, but I don’t think I could live with myself if I hurt you.”
The tenderness in his voice undoes something in me. My eyes burn unexpectedly, and I duck my head, pressing my forehead against his chest. His heart hammers beneath my ear, steady and sure.
“I’m not used to someone putting my needs before theirs,” I admit quietly.
Jonah’s hand finds the back of my neck, fingers sliding gently through my tangled curls. “Well, get used to it.”
Max lets out a soft snort from his position at our feet, reminding us of his continued presence.
Jonah and I both look at the dog, who regards us with what can only be described as canine disapproval.
“I think he’s judging us.”
Jonah’s chest rumbles with a quiet laugh beneath me. “I think we deserve it.”
I lift my head from his chest, suddenly aware of how we must look—me straddling him in a tacky honeymoon suite, both of us flushed and breathless. “We should probably...”
“Yeah.” Jonah’s hands settle carefully at my waist, helping me slide off him with a gentleness that makes my chest ache. The cool air hits my skin as I settle back on my side of the bed.
“Where do you think you’re going? Come here” he murmurs, lifting the blanket to make space for me against his side.
I hesitate for just a moment before tucking myself against him, my slinged arm tucked against his chest. His arm wraps around me carefully, mindful of my injured shoulder, but still holding me close.
“Is this okay?” he asks, his chin brushing against my forehead.
“More than okay.” I close my eyes, breathing in the scent of him.
We lie there in comfortable silence, the only sounds our breathing and Max’s occasional sighs from the foot of the bed. My shoulder throbs dully, but the pain seems distant compared to the warmth of Jonah beside me.
“So,” I whisper, tracing a pattern on his chest with my fingers. “This is happening.”
“It appears to be.”
“We should probably talk about what that means.”
“We will,” he promises. “Tomorrow.”
I tilt my head back just enough to look at him. “You’re stalling.”
“No, I am prioritizing sleep.”
Jonah’s fingers move slowly against my skin, absent and careful, like he can’t quite believe I’m here beside him. Like this entire night has been a dream.
“Sleep, Lila.”
It’s not long after that a soft snore comes from Jonah. Between him, and the rain pelting outside the motel windows, sleep finally drags me under.