Chapter 10
Tex
The room is dim. Jane stands there in her coat and hat, suddenly looking younger and unsure.
I reach up and take her hat off first, slowly and respectfully, setting it on the dresser as if putting away pieces of armor. Her curls spring free, wild and beautiful.
Her breath catches as I slide my hands to her coat.
I pause. “Okay?”
“Yes.”
I help her out of it and hang it on the chair before turning back. Jane is still in her jeans and chambray shirt, boots on, cheeks flushed.
“You can stop me,” I remind her, my voice low. “At any point.”
She nods jerkily. “Okay.”
I step closer and kiss her again—soft, coaxing—then let my mouth trail to her jaw, her neck, tasting her skin. She shivers hard.
My hands settle at her waist, thumbs brushing her ribs through the shirt. “Tell me if you want more.”
“I want more,” she breathes, and the way she says it makes my restraint fray.
I slide my fingers under the hem of her shirt, touching bare skin for the first time, warm and soft. Her whole body reacts—arching slightly into my touch like she’s been waiting.
“Jesus,” I mutter against her throat.
Jane gives a small, breathless laugh. “You say that a lot.”
“You do this to me,” I growl, and her breath stutters.
I lift the shirt slowly, giving her time to stop me.
She doesn’t.
When it clears her head, her hair falls in a wild halo around her shoulders. She stands there in a bra that looks functional, not meant for seduction, and somehow, that makes it hotter.
Because it’s her. Real and earthy and so fucking desirable.
I stare for a minute too long.
Jane’s cheeks turn pink. “Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you’re starving.”
“I am.”
Her eyes darken.
I reach up and slide the straps slowly down her shoulders, then unhook the clasp with careful fingers. When the bra falls away, I don’t pounce or rush. I simply look.
Her breasts are full and soft. Her nipples tighten in the cool air, and she instinctively crosses her arms in a flash of self-consciousness.
I catch her wrists gently. “Don’t hide from me.”
Jane’s startled eyes flick to mine as if she expected a command but received a choice instead.
Slowly, she lowers her arms. “I’ve never... been naked like this with someone.”
“I know,” I say softly. “You’re doin’ perfectly.”
Her eyes flick up to mine, surprised by the praise.
I lower my head and kiss her sternum, then the swell of one breast, before my mouth closes over her nipple.
Jane gasps sharply, and her hands fly to my shoulders.
I suck slowly, not hard, tasting her, listening to the way her breath changes. Her body arches, and a soft whimper breaks out of her like she didn’t know she could make that sound.
My cock responds enthusiastically as I switch to the other, tongue flicking, teeth grazing lightly.
Jane trembles, shifting on her feet as if she doesn’t know where to put herself.
“Tex,” she breathes.
I lift my head, eyes on her. “Talk to me.”
“I—” She sighs shakily. “I feel... hot.” She pauses, then adds in a rush, “Can you—I want”—her cheeks flame—“more. I want more of that.”
The fact that she made herself ask hits me somewhere deep.
“Good.”
She laughs weakly. “No, like... everywhere.”
“Also good,” I reply.
Her lips part on a shaky breath.
I ease her back onto the bed slowly, keeping eye contact, making sure she knows she’s not being taken, she’s being guided.
She sits, then lies back when I nudge her gently. I kneel at the edge of the mattress and slide my hands to her boots.
She tenses.
“Hey,” I say softly. “Let me.”
Jane exhales, nodding.
I pull her boots off one by one, then her socks, and set them aside neatly because that’s who I am, even when I’m falling apart.
Gooseflesh rises beneath my palms as I slide my hands up her calves.
Jane’s breath hitches.
“You okay?” I check in again.
“Yes. I just… didn’t know hands could feel like that.”
A low sound rips out of me as I hook my fingers into the waistband of her skirt, then pause, looking up. “Okay?”
She nods quickly. “Yes.”
I pull the skirt down slowly, then her underwear, giving her time to stop me.
She doesn’t.
When she's bare, she covers her face with one hand, embarrassed.
I catch her wrist and gently pull it down. “Jane.” My voice is soft. “Can you look at me?”
She peeks through her fingers first, then slowly drops her hand. Her eyes are bright with nerves, but she’s watching me now.
“There’s nothing wrong with you,” I murmur, drinking her in. “You’re gorgeous.”
Her throat bobs. “I feel... exposed.”
“I know. But you're safe.”
I spread her knees gently, not forcing, just inviting.
Jane’s breath becomes shallow as my hands slide along her thighs, stroking the sensitive inner skin with my thumbs.
She jerks slightly. “Oh.”
I smirk. “Yeah.”
Jane’s eyes widen. “Don’t smirk.”
“I’m not smirking.”
“You are.”
“I’m appreciating,” I correct, and she makes a breathless sound that might’ve been a laugh.
I lean down and kiss the inside of her knee first. Then higher. Then higher again, tasting her skin, letting anticipation build, watching her reactions like my life depends on them.
Jane’s hands twist in the sheets.
“Tex,” she moans. “Please.”
“Please, what?” I ask because she needs to own her want, not just fall into it.
Her cheeks flush. “Touch me.”
I do. Not with my hand, but with my mouth. I exhale against her, feeling her shiver, then press a slow kiss where she’s slick and warm.
Jane’s whole body jolts, and a sharp gasp tears out of her.
I brace a steadying hand on her thigh. “Breathe.”
She tries, panting.
I taste her again, slower, my tongue stroking, not rushing, letting her body learn the sensation, letting her mind catch up to her need.
Jane’s hips lift instinctively.
I hold her gently in place. “Easy,” I murmur against her skin. I’m not correcting her, just grounding her. “I’ve got you.”
“Sorry,” she blurts, mortified.
I pull back enough to look up at her. “Don’t apologize.” My voice is firm but gentle. “Your body is supposed to respond. Just like earlier. That’s the whole point.”
Relief and surprise flicker across her face, as if she’s spent her whole life being told she’s too loud, too much, too reactive, and now I’m telling her that her body’s honest response is exactly what I want.
Her eyes are wide. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’re feeling. That’s all you have to do.”
I lower my head again, using my mouth with patience. My tongue moves slowly, then firmer, circling and pressing against her clit, listening to every hitch of her breath, every tremor. Her thighs shake, and her fingers clutch the sheets.
She tries to close her legs.
I stop immediately, lifting my head. “Too much?”
Jane shakes her head quickly, breathless. “No, no. I just—God.”
“Hey.” I wait until her eyes find mine. “Stay with me.”
She does, her eyes glassy.
“You’re safe,” I repeat. “And you’re not doin’ anything wrong.”
Her breath breaks. “It feels like earlier. Like I’m out of control. Like I’m going to explode.”
“You’re not out of control. I won’t let you go anywhere you don’t want to be. Let it happen.”
I seal my mouth over her again, pressing her clit more firmly with my tongue, finding the rhythm that makes her gasp and arch. She cries out, and her back bows off the mattress when I slide two fingers inside her slowly, enough to deepen the sensation, but not enough to push past comfort.
“Tex!” Jane sobs, making my name sound like a prayer.
I keep my pace steady, not letting her run from it, not letting her overthink.
Her whole body locks… and she comes apart.
A raw cry tears from her throat as her hips jerk, and her thighs shake around my head. I keep my mouth on her, slowing only when her tremors start to fade, making sure she lands softly.
When I finally lift my head, her face is flushed. Her eyes are stunned, and her mouth is open as if she doesn’t know what to do with herself.
I crawl up her body and kiss her gently, letting her taste herself on my mouth. She makes a soft, helpless sound and clings to me.
“I didn’t know it could feel like that. Having your mouth on me.”
I brush hair off her cheek. “It can.”
Her gaze is vulnerable. “You didn’t... You didn’t hate that.”
I go still. “What?”
Her voice cracks a little. “Putting your mouth on me… there. Me being... loud.”
I kiss her forehead. “I fuckin’ loved it.”
Jane’s eyes shine.
She’s quiet for a moment, then her hand moves tentatively down my chest. “I want to—” She bites her lip. “Can I touch you? I want to make you feel like that.”
The question hits me hard, but not because I don't want it—damn, I want it—but because she’s asking. She’s claiming this moment instead of waiting to be invited.
“Yeah,” I say, my voice raspy. “Yeah, you can.”
I sit back and pull my shirt over my head. Jane’s gaze rakes over my torso, then stops on a scar. Her fingers hover, but she doesn’t touch this time.
Instead, her eyes lift to mine. “Okay?”
The question hits me like a punch to the chest because that’s my word, my carefulness. And she’s giving it back to me, checking in the way I’ve been checking in with her, as if she understands that consent runs both ways. As if she sees that I have scars I don’t let people touch.
I nod. “Okay.”
She gently glides her hand down my chest, feeling the hard muscle, the scar tissue, the heat pouring from my skin.
I unbutton my jeans slowly, giving her time to look away if she wants.
She doesn’t. Her cheeks flush, and she inhales sharply as I free my cock. “Oh!”
I huff a quiet laugh.
She looks at me, mortified. “I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” I say, and I keep my voice gentle. “We can talk. We can laugh. We can be awkward. It’s allowed.”
Jane shakes her head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“I’ll teach you.” My voice roughens. “If you want.”
She nods quickly. “I want.”
I take her hand again, guiding it slowly to my throbbing cock. “Start here,” I encourage, placing her palm around me. “Not tight. Just… hold.”
Jane’s fingers close around me carefully.
The sensation is insane because it’s her, because she’s trying, because she’s looking at me like I’m fascinating and precious.
I inhale slowly through my nose.
“Okay?” she asks again.
“Yeah,” I grit out. “You’re doin’ good.”
Her hand moves slightly.
“Slow,” I guide her, moving my hand over hers to show her the rhythm. “Like this.”
Jane watches intently. She’s learning to touch me the way she’d learn a new skill, with all that fierce concentration and determination. The knowledge nearly breaks me because she’s not simply learning how to touch, she's learning who I am. And she’s paying attention like it matters. Like I matter.
She follows my motion, a little clumsy at first, then steadier. My control frays, and a ragged groan escapes me.
“Tex?” she whispers, worried by the sound.
I catch her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. “You’re doin’ good. Better than good.”
Her cheeks flush. “You’re making faces.”
I huff a laugh. “You’re making me feel things.”
Her gaze drops to her hand as if she can’t believe she’s the one doing this, unravelling me one soft touch at a time.
“Now,” I say, keeping my voice low, “use your other hand.”
Jane lifts her free hand, hovering.
I guide her fingertips to my thigh first, grounding her, then up to cup my balls.
She touches me curiously, rubbing her thumb over the sensitive skin and squeezing gently.
I nearly lose it.
“Good,” I mutter, though it’s the understatement of the century. “Just like that.”
Jane’s mouth parts, and her eyes darken with growing confidence. She adjusts her grip slightly on my cock, watching my face for feedback.
I groan.
Her eyes widen, then brighten with pride.
“Oh,” she murmurs. “Okay. That’s… that’s good?”
“Yes,” I bite out. “It’s good.”
She keeps going, steadier now, and my whole body tightens.
“Jane,” I warn.
She looks up, breathless. “What?”
“I’m close.”
She bites her lip, but keeps moving her hand, sliding it up and down my shaft, growing bolder now.
I clamp a hand over hers, stopping her gently.
Jane startles. “Did I do it wrong?”
“No,” I say, breathing hard. “You did it very right.” I hold her gaze. “Do you want me to finish like this? In your hand?”
Jane’s cheeks flush, but she nods. “Yes. I want to feel it.”
I release her hand slowly, and she resumes the motion, slowly at first, then a little faster when my breath breaks.
I grit my teeth, fighting for control. Then she leans forward and presses a sweet, clumsy kiss to my chin.
That tiny gesture wrecks me.
“Jesus,” I groan.
She laughs breathlessly against my skin.
A few more strokes and I go rigid. I catch her wrist gently, keeping her steady as I spill into her hand with a choked groan, eyes squeezed shut, body shaking.
When it’s over, I’m breathing hard, my chest heaving.
Jane is staring at my release on her hand like it’s something from Mars. Then she looks up at me, her eyes wide and dazed. “That’s… wow.”
I huff a low laugh, still wrecked. “Yeah.”
Her cheeks flush deeper. “I’m… proud?”
My smile is slow and sure. “You should be.”
I grab a towel from the dresser, gently clean her hand, then clean myself, keeping everything calm and unhurried so she doesn’t think any part of this is shameful.
When I’m done, I set the towel aside and crawl back onto the bed, pulling her into my arms.
Jane curls into my chest immediately as if she belongs there, as if her body has already decided.
I stroke her hair slowly, letting her breathe.
She shifts, then whispers into my skin, “You didn't hate me asking.”
My throat tightens. “No.”
“I was scared.” She pauses. “I'm always scared people will think I’m stupid. Or too much. Or that I’m doing everything wrong.”
My arms tighten around her. “You’re not stupid. You’re not too much. And asking for what you want isn’t wrong. It’s brave.”
Her eyes shine. “You still won't... have sex with me.”
I keep my voice steady even though my body is screaming. “Not tonight.”
Jane’s eyebrows knit.
I brush my thumb over her brow, smoothing out the frown. “Because when I’m inside you for the first time, I want you to be certain it’s not just heat.”
Her eyes search mine.
“I want you to know what you’re choosing,” I continue. “I want you to wake up tomorrow and still want it.”
Jane stares at me, throat bobbing. “I will.”
I believe her, but I’m going to earn that certainty anyway.
I press a kiss to her forehead. “We can take this slow.”
Jane’s mouth curves into a shy, sleepy smile. “You’re a schedule guy. Of course, you want slow.”
I laugh. A genuine laugh that warms my chest. “I’m an all-in guy.” My mouth finds the top of her head again. “And being with you in that way is not something I’ll ever regret.”
Jane’s breath shudders, and she finally relaxes as exhaustion catches up to her.
I lie there staring at the ceiling, holding her like she’s something precious, knowing two things with absolute certainty:
I want her.
And I’m going to do this right—even if it kills me.