Chapter 20-JADE
I see him before he sees me.
He's standing near the security exit, head and shoulders above most of the crowd, scanning every face that emerges with an intensity that makes my breath catch.
He's wearing dark jeans and a gray sweater I remember running my hands over once, telling him it made his eyes look softer.
His face is shadowed with stubble, and there are faint circles under his eyes that suggest he hasn't been sleeping any better than I have.
He looks like a man who's been waiting for something important.
He looks like home.
Our eyes meet across the crowded terminal, and everything else falls away.
The announcements echoing overhead. The travelers streaming past me with their rolling suitcases and their hurried footsteps.
The exhaustion that's been weighing on me since I boarded the plane in Boston this morning.
All of it disappears, leaving nothing but him and me and the electric current that's been pulling us toward each other since the moment we met.
For a heartbeat, neither of us moves.
Then I'm running.
I abandon my carry-on somewhere behind me, my sneakers slapping against the polished floor as I close the distance between us. He catches me when I launch myself into his arms, lifting me off my feet and crushing me against his chest so tightly I can barely breathe.
I don't care. I don't need to breathe. I just need him.
His mouth finds mine, and the kiss is nothing like the tender reunion you see in movies.
This is desperate and hungry and raw, all teeth and tongue and the salt of tears I didn't realize I was crying.
His hands grip my hips hard enough to bruise, and I fist the soft fabric of his sweater like I'm trying to climb inside him.
People are probably staring. Let them stare.
"Don't ever leave again," he murmurs against my lips, the words vibrating through me.
"Don't give me a reason to."
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes searching my face like he's memorizing every detail. His thumbs brush the tears from my cheeks with a tenderness that makes my chest ache.
"Never," he says. "I promise."
I kiss him again because I can't not kiss him, because being this close to him after five days apart feels like finally surfacing after nearly drowning. He tastes like coffee and mint and something that's just Phoenix, something I've been craving since the moment I walked out his door.
Eventually, we have to come up for air. He sets me down gently, keeping one arm wrapped around my waist like he's afraid I'll disappear if he lets go. Someone has retrieved my abandoned carry-on and left it a few feet away, and Phoenix grabs it with his free hand.
"Let's go home," he says.
Home. The word settles into my chest and takes root there.
The drive from LAX should take an hour, maybe more depending on traffic. Phoenix guides me to his car in the parking structure, a sleek black thing that probably costs more than most people's houses, and opens the passenger door for me before sliding behind the wheel.
He reaches for my hand the moment we're both seated. Our fingers intertwine on the center console, and I feel something unknot in my chest that's been tight since Boston.
We don't talk. We don't need to. His thumb traces slow circles on the back of my hand, and I watch his profile as he navigates out of the parking structure and onto the freeway.
The traffic is typical LA chaos, cars jostling for position, brake lights flashing red in the late afternoon sun. Phoenix drives with one hand on the wheel, the other still holding mine, and I find myself staring at the way his forearm flexes with each turn, the veins visible beneath his skin.
I've missed touching him. Missed the warmth of his body, the smell of his skin, the way his presence makes me feel simultaneously safe and reckless.
Without really thinking about it, I release his hand and let my fingers drift to his thigh.
He glances at me, one eyebrow raised.
I don't say anything. I just let my hand slide higher, feeling the muscle tense beneath the denim. His jaw tightens, but he keeps his eyes on the road.
Higher still. My fingertips brush against him, and I feel him hard beneath my palm.
"Jade." His voice is strained. "We're on the freeway."
"I know." I trace the length of him through his jeans, watching his knuckles whiten on the steering wheel. "Keep driving."
He makes a sound low in his throat, something between a groan and a growl. His right hand leaves the wheel and finds my knee, sliding up my thigh. The touch sends sparks shooting through my nervous system, and I shift in my seat, suddenly aware of how much I want him.
"Two can play that game," he murmurs.
His fingers reach the waistband of my jeans, then slip beneath my sweater to find bare skin. I gasp as his hand cups my breast, thumb circling my nipple through the thin fabric of my bra. He tugs at my neckline, pulling it down enough to expose me, and the cool air of the car makes me shiver.
"Phoenix, we're in traffic."
"I know." He mimics my earlier tone perfectly. "Keep your eyes forward."
His hand leaves my breast and travels lower, popping the button of my jeans with practiced ease. I lift my hips to help him, and his fingers slide beneath the waistband, beneath my underwear, finding the wet heat that's been building since I first saw him in the terminal.
I bite my lip to keep from crying out as he touches me exactly the way he knows I need.
His eyes stay fixed on the road, his expression almost serene, while his fingers work me with devastating precision.
The car next to us inches closer in traffic, and I can see the driver scrolling through his phone, oblivious to what's happening mere feet away.
The danger of it makes everything more intense.
"That's it," Phoenix murmurs, his voice low and rough. "Let go for me. Right here."
The tension builds impossibly fast, coiled tight in my belly, spreading outward like fire through my veins. I grip the armrest with one hand and his thigh with the other. My breathing is ragged, my whole body trembling.
"Come for me, Jade."
I shatter with his name on my lips, waves of pleasure crashing over me while traffic crawls forward and Phoenix drives with one hand like nothing unusual is happening at all. He works me through it, prolonging every aftershock until I'm boneless and gasping in the passenger seat.
When I finally come back to myself, he's withdrawing his hand slowly, bringing his fingers to his lips and tasting me while his eyes flick briefly from the road.
"Your turn," I manage, still breathless.
He laughs softly. "Jade, I'm driving."
"You managed just fine a minute ago."
I don't give him a chance to argue. I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean across the console, my fingers working at his belt, his zipper, freeing him from the confines of his jeans.
He's hard and hot in my hand, and the sound he makes when I wrap my fingers around him sends another pulse of desire through my already satisfied body.
"Fuck," he breathes. "We're still in traffic."
"Then you'd better focus."
I bend down and take him in my mouth.
The angle is awkward, my neck craned at an uncomfortable position, but none of that matters when I hear the groan that escapes him.
His hand finds the back of my head, fingers threading through my hair, guiding me without pushing.
I taste salt and skin and want, and I lose myself in the rhythm of it, in the sounds he's trying and failing to suppress.
The car swerves slightly, and Phoenix swears under his breath.
"I can't concentrate," he grits out.
I respond by taking him deeper.
The traffic must be moving because I can feel us accelerating, the engine humming beneath me. His thigh tenses under my palm, and his breathing grows ragged, punctuated by soft curses and my name repeated like a prayer.
Then suddenly we're slowing down, turning, gravel crunching under the tires. I lift my head just enough to see that he's pulled off the highway onto some kind of canyon overlook, a small clearing surrounded by scrub brush and rocks with a view of the valley below.
He throws the car into park and reaches for me.
"Backseat," he orders. "Now."
We scramble over the center console like teenagers, all tangled limbs and desperate kisses. It's broad daylight, the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, and anyone driving by could see us. I don't care. I need him inside me more than I've ever needed anything.
Phoenix yanks my jeans down my legs while I pull at his sweater. He settles between my thighs on the leather seat, bracing himself with one hand while the other guides himself to my entrance.
"Look at me," he demands.
I meet his eyes as he pushes inside, and the connection of it, his body filling mine while his gaze holds me captive, is almost too much to bear. We both gasp at the sensation, and then he's moving, long deep strokes that make the whole car rock on its suspension.
"I love you," his voice drops to something raw and unguarded. "I love you so much it scares me."
"I love you." I wrap my legs around his waist, pulling him deeper. "Never leave me."
"Never."
The windows are fogging from our breath, and I can hear birds somewhere outside, completely oblivious to what's happening in this car. Phoenix's thrusts grow harder, faster, and I dig my nails into his shoulders hard enough to leave marks.
"Mine," he growls against my throat. "Say it."
"Yours." The word comes out broken, shattered by pleasure. "Always yours."
He drives into me once more, twice, and then we're both falling, clinging to each other as the world explodes into white-hot sensation. His body shudders above me, and I feel him pulse inside me, and everything is perfect and terrifying and exactly right.
Afterward, we lie tangled together in the backseat, too exhausted to move. His weight pins me to the leather, and I can feel his heartbeat hammering against my chest, gradually slowing to match the rhythm of my own.
"We should probably get home," I murmur eventually.
"Probably." He doesn't move.
I run my fingers through his hair, damp with sweat at the temples. "People might see us."
"Let them."
I laugh softly, and he lifts his head to look at me with an expression so tender it makes my heart clench.
"Welcome home," he says.
I kiss him, soft and slow, tasting the future we're building together.
"It's good to be back."