Chapter 16 #2
And just like that, I’m back in the same impossible trap.
A man I care about in one place. My career in another.
The same long-distance nightmare I just barely escaped.
Except this time it’s a thousand times worse, because with Ryan I didn’t care enough to feel devastated by the distance.
With Jonus, the thought of being three thousand miles away makes my stomach drop so hard I almost feel sick.
I don’t even consider asking Jonus to come with me.
Why would I? Ryan never offered to relocate.
In fact, he made it crystal clear that I was the one who would need to give things up and go to him.
No man in my life has ever rearranged his world to fit mine.
I’ve always been the one expected to sacrifice.
I’m not sure about everything yet. The thought of becoming a mother right away—orc sons, immediate pregnancy—I’m still turning that over, feeling the weight and shape of it.
But I know that I want Jonus Irontree permanently in my life.
Not a fling. Not a temporary arrangement while the danger passes. Permanently.
And I don’t see how I can have both him and my career. Life is apparently cruel enough to force this same impossible choice on me twice.
“I don’t know,” I admit.
Jonus gives a curt nod in return, but doesn’t push me on it and we both let it go for now. The afternoon passes in tense quiet.
I manage to finish one more section of the article, but my concentration is shot.
Every time Jonus shifts beside me, I’m hyperaware of his powerful body.
The flex of his muscular forearm as he types.
The way his thigh presses warm against mine.
His scent—I’ve started noticing his scent the way he notices mine, warm and masculine.
But I realize there is one thing I do know. Life is short. I’ve already almost died once. People are actively trying to kill me again. And I’ve been lying next to this orc every night, burning for him, keeping my hands to myself because Ellie told me to be certain.
Well, I’m certain I do want him. And I’d like for us to remain together.
Do I want to marry Jonus Irontree?
Working next to him, smelling him, feeling his warmth through the thin fabric of our clothes. Every accidental brush of contact sends heat pooling between my thighs. I shift on the couch. Cross my legs. Uncross them.
Jonus’s nostrils flare slightly. He knows. Of course he knows. He can smell exactly how turned on I am and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.
Dinner comes and goes. I’m barely present for it.
Afterwards, Jonus carries me to our room.
Our room. When did I start calling it that?
He sets me on the bed. “Wound care,” he states. Although there’s not much to do anymore. I suspect he just likes an excuse to touch me.
Does his window check—that new ritual from last night, scanning the dark yard, testing the lock. Then he changes into his sleep pants and I watch the muscles of his back flex as he pulls his shirt over his head and my entire body clenches.
I take slow steps to the bathroom, proud that I can at least do this on my own. I use the restroom and change into my favorite pajama shorts and the little V-neck top. I don’t bother with any underwear.
And then I return to bed and climb under the covers.
He lies down beside me. I curl against him as I do every night now, my body finding its place against his like a key sliding into a lock.
Head on his chest, arm across his waist, legs tangled.
His erection is right there, pressing against my hip through those thin sleep pants.
I’ve felt it every night. I’ve ignored it every night.
I can’t ignore it tonight.
“Jonus.” My voice comes out rough.
“Yes?”
“I need to tell you something.”
He goes still beneath me.
“I’m not staying here because it’s safe.” I take a breath and force the words out. “It’s obviously not safe—someone photographed me through the window yesterday. I’m staying because of you. Because I want to be where you are.”
His arms tighten around me.
“When Melissa called today and told me to come back to DC, the only thing I could think was that I didn’t want to leave you.
I know you said we should wait. And I know Ellie told me not to do anything until I was certain about how I felt about you.
I’ve been trying to be patient and responsible and smart about all of this. ”
“Sloane—”
“But I’m certain.” My voice cracks slightly. “I’ve been certain for a while. I’m just scared.”
“Certain of what? Scared of what?”
“Of how much I want you. Scared of how fast this happened. Of the fact that my editor wants me in DC and my whole career is there and I don’t see how this works long-distance and I can’t—” I stop.
Take a shaky breath. “I can’t do another long-distance relationship.
I can’t be three thousand miles away from you.
I was able to do that with Ryan only because I didn’t actually love him.
But I can’t do that this time, Jonus. I can’t be apart from someone I love. ”
The word love hangs between us like a living thing. I said it. I didn’t plan to, it just came out, and now it’s out there and I can’t take it back. I don’t want to take it back.
A sound rumbles through his chest. Not a growl—something deeper and warmer.
“Also,” I add, “I’m extremely aroused and have been all day and I know you can smell it and I’m going to lose my mind if something doesn’t change.”
He shifts beneath me, angling his body so he can look at my face. Those dark eyes are tender and intense. “I told you we would wait to mate,” he says, his voice low and deliberate. “I meant that. I won’t fill you with my seed until you’re ready for everything that means and the danger has passed.”
“I know, but—”
“But there are other things I can do for you that don’t cross that line.” His hand comes up to cup my jaw, his rough thumb tracing my cheekbone. “It is my duty and honor as your future mate to bring you relief. If you’ll let me.”
My breath catches. “What are you saying?”
“I’m saying let me take care of you, Sloane. Let me touch your clit and bring you to orgasm.”
“Yes.” The word comes out instantly. No thought required. “Yes, please.”
His hand slides from my jaw, down the column of my neck. Slowly. Deliberately. Over my collarbone, the swell of my breasts through the thin fabric, the curve of my thick waist. Each inch of contact leaves heat in its wake. He’s giving me time to change my mind.
I am not going to change my mind.
When his fingers reach the waistband of my pajama shorts, he pauses. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
“If you stop, I will actually die.”
A huff of laughter against my hair. Then his large green hand slides beneath the fabric.
I spread my thighs for easy access. When his rough orc fingers find me, I gasp.
I’m soaked and swollen, have been all day, and the first brush of contact is almost too much.
My hips buck against his hand involuntarily.
“You’re so wet.”
“Because of you. This is what you do to me every single day.”
Jonus moans and continues to move his fingers, exploring me.
Two fingers stroke through my slick heat, finding the spots that make me whimper, circling my clit with a touch that’s gentle and devastating at the same time.
He pays attention the way he pays attention to everything about me—like I’m the most important thing he’s ever studied.
I’m pressed against his chest, my face buried in his neck, breathing him in with every gasp. His other arm holds me tight against his body, anchoring me while his fingers work. His luscious erection prods against my hip.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, low and rough in my ear. “You’re mine and I will always take care of you.”
His rough finger rubs against the side of my clit and I cry out against his neck. My hands fist in the sheets. Dear God, he knows exactly where I need to be touched like he’s psychic or something.
“Right there. Don’t stop.”
He’s moving his finger faster, and I can feel something huge building much too swift. My thighs clamp around his hand and then the orgasm crashes through me so hard it’s almost painful. “Jonus. Oh god, Jonus.”
He holds me through it. His arm tight around my waist. His fingers slowing but not stopping until the last aftershock rolls through my body and I collapse against him. For a long moment, the only sound is my ragged breathing and his heartbeat under my ear.
“What about you?” I manage eventually.
“Tonight was for you.”
“But—”
“Sleep, Sloane. There will be time for everything else.”
I want to argue. I want to reach for him, return what he just gave me. But exhaustion is pulling me under—not just physical, but emotional.
I said I loved him and then had the best orgasm of my life…and we haven’t even kissed yet. He didn’t say he loved me in return—but said it with his hands, with his patience, with the way he’s holding me right now like I’m the most precious thing in his world.
I fall asleep with a smile plastered across my face.