Marissa
Pooja only lasts another thirty minutes before the jet lag hits her.
She starts dozing on the drive home, leaving me with no distraction from the buzzing memory of Jesse’s touch.
Scenes from tonight flit through my mind like a flashback montage and I dig my fingers into the steering wheel.
I’m growing addicted to the effect of Jesse’s kisses and the way they seem to light up my entire body.
That moment on the lawn was a tease, and I need more.
A long nighttime shower usually calms me down, but I’m no less settled after stepping out from under the water and slipping into a cozy pair of pajamas. Which is why I’m sure I’m imagining things when I hear a rapping sound against my windowpane.
I pull back the curtain and do a double take when I spot the silhouette of a man on my front lawn.
When I realize it’s Jesse, I let out a sigh of relief, even though it takes a minute for my thumping heart to catch up with my brain.
Opening the doors, I step out on the balcony.
This is it, the teenage dream. All I need is a white dress and a pool to dive into, and I’d be Claire Danes in Romeo + Juliet.
“No one has ever thrown stones at my window,” I stage-whisper. “Is this what I missed in high school?”
Jesse grins at me. “More or less.”
I press my arms into the railing and lean over the edge. “You want to come in?”
I see him nod in the moonlight, and pleasure sweeps through my body at the thought of Jesse wanting me just as much as I want him.
“Give me one second,” I say. “I’ll come let you through the front door.”
“Absolutely not,” he replies, keeping his voice low. “I need to see this entire fantasy through.”
I raise an eyebrow. “What are you going to do? Climb up here and sneak into my bedroom?”
“Of course.”
“You do remember you’re not a teenager, right?” I tease.
“And?”
“You might not be as dexterous as you once were.”
“Maybe not. But I do have a fully developed cerebral cortex and that’s worth something.” He looks around him, searching for the best way up.
I laugh, feeling giddy. “Fair enough.”
He grabs hold of the trunk of the tree and then looks up at me. “Plus, I don’t have to worry about waking your parents if I fall.”
Jesse grips a tree branch above him with both hands and hauls himself up in a shockingly controlled motion—part pull-up, part push-up—until he plants a foot on the branch beside his hands.
I take back my dig about his dexterity.
I hold my breath as he closes the last gap between the tree and the rail, but he lands easily on the wood before straightening up with a satisfied smirk. He ambles over to me, taking hold of my hand and leading me through the open doorway.
I’m completely speechless.
The minute we step inside, his mouth is on mine, hot and insistent.
I shut the door clumsily behind us, and he presses me flush against it.
His hands tunnel through my hair as he angles my head back for a deeper kiss, and I part my lips eagerly, allowing him to devour me.
The sense of rightness it evokes is equal parts terrifying and exhilarating, and I realize that somewhere along the line, this stopped being a fling.
I want him in a way that extends beyond the physical. I want him to be mine.
He drops his hands under my thighs to hoist me up. I wrap my arms around his neck and then he’s carrying me over to the bed.
By the time he sets me down on the edge of the mattress, the sense of urgency has shifted into something slower.
Deeper. Jesse’s breath is hot against my neck as he undoes the buttons of my pajama top one by one with agonizing slowness.
He kisses the newly exposed skin as each new inch is revealed, the stubble of his beard deliciously scratchy against my skin, and I weave my hand through his curls to keep upright.
Once the final button is unhooked, he slides the sleeves down my arms. Dipping his head, he plants a kiss in the center of my cleavage.
“Tell me what you want,” he murmurs against my skin. My head tips backward as my eyes shut.
“You,” I whisper. “I want you.”
He breathes out a laugh. His hand slides beneath the waistband of my pajama bottoms and I suck in a breath as his index finger traces over the seam of my panties.
“You’ve got me,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “And I want to make you feel good. So, tell me how you’d like me to do it.”
A glimmer of confusion cuts through the haze of bliss.
Then again, the slow, stroking movement of his fingers is making it difficult to concentrate on the question.
He slides a hand inside the thin strip of fabric, slowly parting my folds with one finger.
He holds eye contact with me as his fingers stroke over me, and the intimacy of it leaves me breathless.
“Whatever … whatever you want,” I manage. Jesse pauses his movements and my stomach dips. Have I said something wrong? Honestly, I’m not sure what answer he’s looking for.
Jesse’s brow furrows. “Don’t men ask you how you’d like to come?” His words send a chill of lust down my spine. The question is unspeakably sexy but it’s also one I’ve never been asked before. Most of the men I’ve been with were like Rocky—they take what they want and don’t ask for feedback.
“Not really,” I admit. “But I … I like all of it.”
The crease between his eyebrows deepens.
“This is about you and your pleasure,” he says. “I’d like you to tell me. Do you want my fingers?” I gasp as he slips another finger inside me.
I make a sound that’s not quite a reply.
“Or would you prefer my mouth?” He uses his free hand to lower the cup of my bra and closes his mouth over my nipple. His tongue swirls around me, teasing the tip into a sharp point. His other hand is still stroking me, and the dual sensation is almost too much to bear.
I clear my throat, struggling to form a coherent sentence. “How about C, all of the above?”
Jesse’s lips curl into a grin against my breast, and his mouth continues its gentle assault as he laps his tongue across my nipple before biting down gently. He slips another finger inside as he continues to work me, and I press against his palm eagerly.
“That’s it,” he murmurs. He moves his attention to my other breast, planting a soft kiss against the lace fabric. “Take what you want.”
My eyes fall shut as a delicious tightness starts to build in my core. I can’t remember the last time I felt this out of control, and the sense of liberation is exhilarating. Jesse’s fingers start to pump faster, spreading a heat that reaches all the way up to my cheeks.
“Oh god. I’m already…” I pant. I grab hold of his shoulders as my thighs start to tremble, and my vision turns hazy.
I’m close, and I stay close, but I can’t quite get there. My body has gone tight as I hover on the brink of an orgasm. There’s something holding me back, keeping me from spilling over the edge.
Jesse brushes his nose against my neck, his breath hot against my ear. “Let go, Marissa. I’ve got you.”
His words shove me over the threshold. Waves of pleasure crash over me again and again as I shatter into a million little pieces.
When I finally come back to earth, I notice Jesse has a hand wrapped around his dick. He’s stroking himself slowly, his chest rising and falling with jagged breaths.
“Look at what you’re doing to me,” he says hoarsely. “You look so beautiful like this.”
“Like what?”
His eyes spark. “Undone.”
“Let me,” I say, reaching forward to cover his hand with mine. With effort, Jesse shakes his head. He leans forward again, planting a gentle kiss on my lips. He kisses one breast softly before moving to the other and I arch toward him.
“Jesse,” I breathe.
He pulls away, staring at me with wild, blown-out eyes. “Let me take you to bed,” he says, his voice low and hoarse.
I nod. Jesse tugs his shirt over his head, dropping it to a puddle on the floor as I slide down his jeans.
His hands reach behind my back, unhooking my bra.
His eyes go wide as they rake over my bare chest, drinking me in.
After a moment, he bends forward to kiss me again and I wrap my arms around his neck, teasing my fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck.
His body comes down on top of mine and we are a tangle of limbs, our mouths connecting ravenously as our hands explore.
“I have to get a condom,” he says between kisses. Then he pulls back, digging through the pocket of his jeans before extracting a condom.
“Someone’s confident,” I tease. “Or do you just have a thing for Ina?”
Jesse’s lips curl into a wicked smirk. “I have a thing for you.” He tears open the condom with his teeth and rolls it over himself.
He crawls back over me, forearms flexing as they bracket the side of my head.
With eyes locked on mine, he pushes into me, inch by inch.
He feels even better than I remember, and I take a deep breath in, savoring the delicious stretch.
“Fuck,” he says through gritted teeth. “You feel incredible. So warm and welcoming.”
“It’s never been like this before,” I admit. “Not with anyone.”
Jesse shakes his head as if he can’t comprehend the idea of it. “But you … you’re so…” He blows out a breath and tries again. “Maybe we’ve just been waiting for each other.”
His words go straight to my core, igniting a warmth that spreads through my limbs. I’ve been trying to tell myself that this thing between us is nothing more than a summer romance. But it’s no use. Something here feels fated, inevitable. An epilogue to a story I once thought was over.
Slow but steady, he starts to move, and we find our rhythm together.
We come apart and together again and again, like two dancers performing long-mastered choreography.
When he adjusts his angle to hit my most sensitive spot, I let out a groan and dig my nails into his back.
I’m already spinning toward oblivion, much faster than I want to.
I’m not ready for this to be over. Not yet.
“Let me be on top.” It’s a position I haven’t tried since my twenties, and I haven’t gone back to it since. But there’s something different about being with Jesse. Something that makes me feel like I’m returning to the person I once was.
Jesse’s eyes glitter in the darkness.
“That’s my girl.”
My girl. My heart flits with pleasure at the sentiment.
In one fluid motion, he sweeps an arm beneath my hips and flips us over. I squeeze my thighs against him and grab on to his shoulders for leverage. Jesse tucks a lock of hair behind my ear, his eyes roaming over my face as he drinks me in.
“You’re everything,” he whispers. He bends forward and kisses me slowly, reverently, and there’s something new and different about this kiss. It contains sentiments we haven’t yet had the courage to say out loud.
He presses his fingertips into my waist, lifting me up and then lowering me slowly.
I let out a shuddering gasp as I sink down onto him.
The fire in my belly starts to uncoil as I begin to ride him, and my orgasm loops closer.
Beneath me, Jesse’s body tightens, and his eyes fall shut.
The sight of him unraveling does something to me, confronting me with an awareness that I want to be the only person who makes him feel this way.
When he lets out a strangled groan of pleasure, it’s the push that sends me toppling over the edge and I curl my fingers into the sheet as I ride out the spiraling waves of pleasure that crest over me until I lose myself to oblivion.