Chapter 25 #2
He nods toward the backseat, and I twist around to look. A few grocery bags sit on the floor behind him.
“I thought we could head back to Matt’s. I’ll make you breakfast. We can hang out. Talk.”
I raise a brow. “You wanna talk, huh?” He totally wants to get naked. Subtle, Jensen. Real subtle.
“I do want to talk,” he says, holding my gaze. Then the corner of his mouth pulls into that cocky smirk. “But if talking turns into something else… I won’t complain.”
A laugh slips out of me. “I’m sure you won’t.” I wouldn’t either… but I’m not telling him that.
I wouldn’t be mad if he drove out to Montrose Harbor again and pulled me into that backseat.
In fact, the more I think about everything he’s done these past few months…
The more I realize just how badly I want to get back to Matt’s.
“Holy crap, did you buy enough berries?” I joke, pulling out the fourth container. He got them all: strawberries, blueberries, blackberries, raspberries. I set the raspberries next to the bananas, then pull the eggs out of the sack and fold the reusable bag, placing it on the pantry shelf.
“Do you want me to start the bacon?” I ask, reaching into the next bag and pulling it out.
As I move to grab more of the groceries, my hands are met with resistance. Jensen’s close over mine, gently pulling me toward him. His hands slide up my arms. “I haven’t stopped counting the minutes until I get to do this again.”
He cups my face and kisses me. No tongue.
Just warm lips brushing over mine, slow, soft, sensual.
He holds back just enough to have me melting into him, aching for more in a way I didn’t know I could.
I part my mouth slightly, inviting him in, but he doesn’t take the bait.
He takes his time, teasing me with slow flicks of his tongue before burying a fist in my hair.
He tugs gently, tipping my chin up to gain full access to my neck.
His mouth skims along my jaw, then lower, his breath warm against my skin. The tip of his tongue traces a path to my clavicle, and a flash of heat races down my spine, settling in my core as desire pools between my thighs.
Dammit, Jensen. I’ve made it way too easy for him. I don’t know how. But the way he so easily turns me on—the way he loves me so hard—I’d do anything to feel him like this.
“Are you hungry?” His deep voice sends a shiver up my neck.
“Yes,” I whisper.
He chuckles, low and wicked in my ear. “You want me to start the bacon?”
“No.”
“Then what do you want?”
“You,” I breathe, my mind scrambling to form words.
His breath ghosts along my jaw, voice dropping even lower. “Good. Because I want to devour every inch of you.”
The soft and slow is gone in an instant as he kisses me hungrily, sucking my bottom lip into his mouth. A moan forces its way up my throat as he deepens the kiss, his tongue teasing mine.
His hands move down my body, slow—taking his time, fingertips grazing every curve, until he reaches my waist. He grips it firmly and tugs me closer, pressing his hard length against me.
Jesus. My mind blanks.
Just… Jesus.
My arms instinctively fold around his neck, and I can’t think, can’t lead.
I’m in response mode only. Submissively his.
I arch into him as he backs me against the island.
His hands explore my ass, then wrap around my thighs as he lifts me.
I open my legs and he steps between them, setting me onto the counter.
His palms glide up my sides, guiding my arms above my head before breaking our kiss. His eyes stay locked on mine as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. The tension sizzles. Then his fingers curl under the hem of my shirt, tugging it up and over my head.
A cocky smirk tugs at one side of his lip, and God, it’s the sexiest thing. Like he’s got me right where he wants me, and there isn’t a damn thing I can do about it. I love that smirk. It makes me feel like I’m the most desired woman in the world. Like he’d pick me. Every. Time.
Over and over.
And he does. He keeps choosing me.
Even when I shut him out.
Even when I ignore him.
Even when he knows I don’t trust him. Not completely.
Even when he tells me he loves me, and I don’t say it back.
He keeps coming back. He keeps showing up. He keeps loving me. And it’s that kind of love that makes me believe we can make it. That we’ll come out the other side stronger than ever.
It wraps around my heart like armor, filling every crack, shielding it from the pain I once thought would break me.
He lowers my bra and runs his tongue along my nipple. This obviously doesn’t help my case. My head falls back, and I gasp. He closes his mouth around it and sucks, his tongue flicking in slow circles that send a buzz straight through me. Holy shit. I feel like I’m two beers deep.
I lean back on one hand, the other cradling the back of his head, pressing him closer.
He growls against my skin. “Fuck, Alley.” His teeth scrape gently, drawing a breathy, “Jesus,” from me.
His hands snake around to my back, fingers fumbling with the clasp of my bra. Both my hands thread into his hair now as he licks and sucks and kisses across my breasts.
I scoot closer to the edge, desperate for pressure as the pulsing builds, loud in my ears, impossible to separate from the ache deep inside me.
His mouth makes its way back to mine, and I kiss him with so much force it feels like I’m back in high school—caught up in every new sensation, pouring everything I’m feeling into one hot, desperate make-out.
He pulls away suddenly, dragging a hand through his hair. “Dammit, babe. I’m never going to get anything done again.”
I laugh softly against his neck as he lifts me off the counter and sets me down. But the second my feet hit the floor, his mouth is on mine again, possessive and carnal.
“I want to quit my job and be with you all fucking day. Every day.”
I wouldn’t hate that.
We stumble backward down the hall, his hands already sliding into my leggings.
I grin against his lips as my fingers dip beneath his waistband. I’m still not sure what I’m doing. Still don’t trust this fully, but I’m trying. Trying to be present. To just let myself feel what I’m feeling and go with it.
God, this feels so good.
I unbutton his pants in a rush, tugging the zipper down. My fingers brush his firm cock and he groans. “Jesus Christ. Do you know how many times I’ve thought about this the past few months?”
We hit the bed and fall back together, his hands roaming greedily over me. “How many times I’ve fucked you in my mind?”
I wrap my hand around him and give a slow, deliberate stroke. “Probably the same amount as me.”
Right now? All I feel is Jensen: his hard cock in my hand, his hungry lips on mine, his possessive hands claiming me.
And in this moment, it makes me feel so many things. Nervous. Excited. Wanted.
More importantly, it reminds me what it’s like when two people are working toward the same goal. What can happen when they both give more than they take. When they show up for each other.
When they trust each other.
And I want to trust him. I want to believe this is what forever could be—because it feels so damn good to be loved by him.
He yanks my leggings and underwear down, and before I can catch my breath, a moan pours from my lips as his finger glides along my wet, sensitive center.
“God, I missed your pussy.”
I squeeze my legs together, desperate for friction, for more. And damn, the dirty talk? I’ve missed that. It’s always been such a turn-on, and I know I just soaked his fingers.
He drops to his knees without a word, spreading me open, his breath hot against my slick skin before his tongue makes the first slow, devastating pass. My head tips back, a sharp gasp tearing from my throat—
Yeah… breakfast can definitely wait.