Chapter 31
Anna
The door barely clicks shut before Joel’s mouth is on mine.
I don’t overthink. I don’t analyze or hesitate. I just let go and give in.
Everything crashes down—the years, the distance, the stupid fucking pride that kept me from this. From him.
God, we could have been doing this all along. Why weren’t we doing this all along?
His hands are everywhere, gripping, mapping, learning. Mine do the same, tracing the contours of his arms, his chest, and abs. I yank him closer, because I need him right now.
I need him like air because I’m done suffocating without him.
He groans into my mouth as we stumble backward, bumping into walls, kicking off shoes, desperate and uncoordinated in a way that makes me laugh. We’re like two love-sick teens who are desperate for our next fix.
Only, it’s our first fix.
The first of many, I have a feeling.
Joel pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark, his breath unsteady. “What’s funny, Ace?”
I shake my head, lips still tingling—body absolutely humming. “You.”
He smirks, but it’s softer this time, like he’s seeing something new in me. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
And then I raise my palms to his cheeks and kiss him again. Because I can.
His hands find my hips, sliding under my shirt, dragging me against him. God his hands feel so good. It’s like he knows exactly how to light my body up.
I feel every inch of him, and fuck—this isn’t just heat. It’s something else. Something bigger. Something so, so much bigger.
Something inside my chest cracks and I let out an almost sob. Not because I don’t want this—but because I can’t believe I actually do. Because we’re really here and I can’t even remember why I didn’t want this.
He must sense it because the moment shifts. Slows.
I feel it in the way his lips soften against mine, in the way his fingertips trace lazy circles along my spine. This isn’t just about want or lust or sex for either of us.
It’s the weight of every almost. Every unspoken word. Every moment we spent pretending this didn’t exist between us.
Joel stills, his forehead pressing against mine, his fingers threading into my hair.
For a second, we just breathe.
“You sure?” His voice is rough, frayed at the edges as he strokes the side of my cheek with the back of his hand.
He’d stop if I asked. He’d wait. Hell, I know he would. He already has.
He’d rip himself apart if I changed my mind.
I lift my chin, meeting his eyes, my fingers combing through his hair. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He inhales sharply, like the words that just passed my lips are words he never thought I’d ever say. His nose brushing against my cheek, and for a second, he just breathes me in.
“Jesus, Anna,” he murmurs. His fingers flex at my waist, like he’s grounding himself. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this—wanted to hear you say that.”
I swallow hard, my fingers threading through his hair, pulling him back just enough to meet his eyes. They’re such a deep green, practically burning, but there’s something else there too—something that makes my chest ache.
I stroke my thumb across his lower lip. “Then stop waiting.”
Something in him snaps.
Suddenly, he’s moving. He carries me through the dim light of my apartment like I’m something weightless, something precious. But then—he pauses.
“Joel,” I murmur, tightening my legs around his waist.
He smirks against my skin, his lips trailing along my jaw, lazy and infuriating. “Mmm, I don’t know, Ace,” he murmurs. “You sure you’re ready for me?”
I huff. “Are you seriously—”
His teeth graze my pulse point, and I whimper. Goddamn him.
“Say it,” he murmurs, nipping at my collarbone, dragging this out, his hands gripping my thighs hard enough to bruise. “Say you need me.”
My nails dig into his shoulders. “I hate you.”
His laugh is dark, delicious. “Liar.”
He nudges my bedroom door open with his foot, stepping inside with the kind of certainty that steals my breath.
His grip tightens, and I feel his heart hammering through his ribs, matching mine—wild and unsteady.
His breath is uneven against my cheek, and I realize—he’s feeling this as much as I am.
He lowers me onto the bed, hovering over me, eyes locked on mine.
I reach for him before he can think too hard about what happens next. I pull him down, claiming his mouth with mine, desperate to close whatever space still lingers between us. It needs to be erased—eradicated.
Joel groans into me, his weight pressing me into the mattress, his body fitting against mine like we were carved from the same stone.
I feel how turned on he is as he grinds his hips against me—and it just stokes the embers of my own fire.
His hands slide over the skin of my stomach, slow but deliberate, and it sends a cascade of goosebumps throughout my body.
I arch into him, tugging at his shirt, needing more, needing to feel him. He lets me strip him down, lets me map the lines of his chest, lets me feel every muscle, every inch of him under my fingertips.
I can’t stop touching him.
I don’t think I ever will.
Or staring—the tattoos on his arms and back are things I want to understand. To learn and embed into my mind.
He pulls back just long enough to lift my shirt over my head, tossing it somewhere behind him before his hands are on me again, spanning my ribs, my waist, his thumbs sweeping over my skin like he wants every inch of me to vibrate with pleasure. It’s so damn close.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he rasps, raking his lower lip through his teeth. “I swear to God, Ace…”
I don’t let him finish.
I crash my mouth to his, swallowing whatever words he was about to say.
He groans, sinking against me again, his body pressing me into the mattress, his weight settling exactly where I want it—where I need it. But there are still too many clothes in the way. My legs wrap around him, my fingers scraping down his back, and fuck—he shudders.
“Jesus Christ,” he groans. “You’re gonna kill me.”
“Then die happy,” I tease.
He drops his head against my shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath.
I laugh, but it cuts off into a moan as he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to the hollow of my throat.
“I’m trying to survive over here, Ace,” he mutters, voice rough. “But you’re making it really fucking hard.”
I bite my lip, smug despite how wrecked I already feel. “Poor baby.”
“Baby?” He raises a brow, like I just issued a challenge. “Oh, you’re gonna regret that.”
I should. But when his mouth trails lower, when his tongue flicks over the peak of my breast through my bra, when his teeth scrape just enough to send heat spiraling through me—I can’t regret anything.
I can’t even think.
I whimper, and his chuckle is low, smug, vibrating against my skin.
I slide my hand down, stroking him in my palm. He feels so good—just enough girth and length to make me quiver with anticipation.
His head snaps up, his eyes blazing. The groan that follows lights up every nerve in my body.
“Fuck, Anna.” His hips twitch into my hand, a shudder rolling through his whole body. “You really are trying to kill me, aren’t you you?”
I smirk, tightening my grip just to torture him. “Thought you could handle me, rockstar?”
His eyes darken.
“Oh, I can handle you.” He grabs my wrist, stopping me. “But if you keep doing that, you’re not getting what you really want.”
My stomach clenches.
He smirks. “That’s what I thought.”
I arch up, meeting him, desperate for more.
His laughter is short, almost strained, but his lips are on my throat before I can say anything else. His teeth scrape just enough to send a full-body shiver rolling through me.
I don’t know how long we stay like this, tangled together, exploring, discovering. The world outside this room doesn’t exist. The years apart don’t exist. The walls I spent so long building have already crumbled, and I let them.
I’m so ready to let him have every piece of me.
Because he’s always had them anyway.
Joel stills above me, his forehead resting against mine for a beat, his breath uneven.
For the first time since we crashed through the door, neither of us moves.
It’s the weight of it.
The knowing.
That when this happens—when we happen—there’s no going back.
His fingers tangle with mine, threading together, pressing my hands into the mattress just above my head.
I watch his throat bob as he swallows hard, his lashes fluttering against his cheek. “This is real, isn’t it? Please tell me it’s real.”
My chest tightens.
I can only nod.
A slow, almost disbelieving laugh escapes him. His nose skims against mine, soft, reverent.
“We were so fucking stupid,” he murmurs.
I exhale a shaky breath, brushing my lips against his. “Speak for yourself.”
Joel pulls back just enough to look at me, blinking like he misheard me.
His lips part. Then he huffs a laugh, shaking his head. “Are you kidding me right now?”
I grin, tilting my hips just enough to make him suck in another sharp breath. “Hey, I’m just saying, one of us had to be right eventually.”
Joel groans, dropping his forehead to my clavicle. “Unbelievable.”
A lazy grin spreads across my lips. “You knew what you signed up for.”
“So true,” he mutters, tracing his tongue up my collarbone to the column of my neck—and that has my smugness evaporating real fast. “Keep talking, Ace. See what happens.”
I would, but then he’s kissing me again—deeper, slower.
Somewhere in the middle of it, the remnants of my clothes find a way to the floor. The same happens to his bottoms, but we stay there, hands exploring each other while our mouths remain locked together. It’s like we can’t breathe without each other now.
Skin to skin, my brain wants to marvel at the way he feels in my hand, against my body, but processing beyond how good it feels is impossible. It’s like I live for the sounds he makes and the ones he draws out of me.