THIRTY-TWO
EMMA
Neither Jack nor I say a single word until we walk into his apartment. I turn around when he closes his front door and leans against it. For a few moments, we just stare at each other.
Jack finally moves until he stands right before me. He looks deep into my eyes, and with every nervous breath I take, my longing for him grows. I crave him and his touch and how that makes me feel cherished and loved.
Jack takes in a slow breath before he whispers, “Can I hug you now?”
My little heart leaps with joy at his question. As my answer, I close the distance between us and wrap my arms around his middle. His arms envelop me in a loving embrace, and we let out a sigh of relief.
“I’m sorry about what happened today,” he breathes in my ear as he hugs me tight. “But you have to remember Kate means nothing to me. She’s nothing more than a friend, and she never will be. It’s not her I desperately want to touch, to caress, to fuck. That’s you. You’re my everything, Peach.”
Jack’s every word sends intense shivers down my spine, and it overwhelms me in the best kind of way. When I met him, he was so closed-off and insufferable that I never would have thought I’d feel this way about him one day—that I’d fall so madly in love with him that it makes me act all crazy. But sometimes you find love in the most unexpected person.
With these comforting thoughts, I bury my face in the crook of his neck and deeply inhale his familiar masculine scent. It’s like returning home. “I’m sorry I ran off and yelled at you,” I mumble onto his skin. “I trust you, and I have nothing to worry about.”
Jack takes another deep breath, and his chest lifts and deliciously brushes against mine. “But I still feel shitty about that,” he says. “I wasn’t thinking, and I promise it won’t happen again. I don’t want to fight about this anymore; it stresses me out.”
His words make me smile, and he must have felt my lips stretch because he asks, “What is so amusing?”
I pull back to search his expression. “Are you stressed?”
He frowns. “A little. Why?”
“Because we’re touching, and until now, you couldn’t touch me when you were stressed.”
“Oh,” he says. “You’re right. Wow.” He doesn’t say any more but instead loosens our embrace and cups my face to tilt my head up. When I meet his gaze, my heart beats faster, and a soft moan escapes my lips before he closes my mouth with his. I fist his shirt at the waist so I have something to hold on to when his tongue seeks mine. We deepen the kiss, and as usual, I get completely lost in the moment—lost in him and the things he makes me feel. How it makes me tremble when I look into his eyes; how the sound of his voice and the touch of his fingertips alone cause goosebumps to erupt all over my skin and a fervent heat to spread through my body .
As he continues kissing me, my hands wander under his shirt, and I run my fingers over his abs and up his muscular chest. I rest one hand over his heart, which beats as fast as mine. And while that used to be a bad sign—a sign of his unease and anxiety—it now shows me how I affect him, how I make him feel, that he wants me just as much as I want him.
I press my body closer as far as my belly allows, but it’s not enough. I need more of him. “Jack, take me to bed.”
“Are you sure you want that?” he breathes on my lips.
“Yes. I want you, all of you. Inside me. As soon as possible.”
“Fuck, Peach. Yes,” he growls as he takes my hand and pulls me after him into his bedroom. We stand next to his bed, and he turns to me with a look of pure desire and want. To speed up the process, I take off my shirt and pants, which makes Jack chuckle. “Someone’s in a hurry.”
With an impish grin, I slide my hand into his pants and grab him. I lower my gaze and lean my forehead against his chest. “Yes,” I moan. “I’m very impatient now that I feel how hard you are.”
“Your voice alone does that to me, Peach. When you tell me you want me and need me,” he murmurs when he runs his fingers through my hair before grabbing a handful, pulling my head back up to reach my lips for a rough and passionate kiss that turns me on even more. Now that my head is where he wants it, Jack uses his hands to unbutton his jeans and drop them to the floor, right along with his boxers. He takes off my bra before he gently pushes me onto the bed .
We separate, but only for the few seconds it takes for him to pull off his shirt and lie next to me. Instantly, his hands and mouth continue their delicious assault on my body. With a sultry smile, he moves farther down, and I watch him as he takes my sensitive nipple into his mouth and tugs it slightly while his other hand massages my other breast. I moan at the sensation and bite my lips to keep myself from screaming his name. I’m still amazed at how he knows exactly what to do with my body to make me cry out in ecstasy. I grab the sheets and writhe under his touch as his fingers find their way inside my panties.
When he strokes me, the tension inside me builds up rapidly. A desperate need for release takes over and makes me moan louder and arch my back to point him in the right direction. And finally, Jack leaves a trail of teasingly soft kisses over my belly, down to the waistband of my underwear, which goes flying to the floor immediately.
I close my eyes and concentrate on what I’m feeling—on Jack’s mouth that he lowers to my dripping wet center, his lips that encircle my clit, and his fingers that he pushes inside me. My desire reaches new heights, and I whimper in response to everything his tongue and fingers do to me. He sucks harder on my clit and, at the same time, pushes his fingers deeper, curling them, torturing me in the best way possible. I move my hips up, looking for more friction, for more of that delicious sensation his touch triggers in me.
“Fuck, Jack! I’m so close!”
He increases pressure and pace once more, and I grab a pillow to scream into when, moments later, an intense orgasm rushes through me. But what usually leaves me with a need to catch my breath leaves me feeling unsatisfied. I haven’t had my fill of Jack yet, quite literally. I need him inside me. Now. So I sit up and push him back onto the bed, where he lands with a surprised chuckle.
“Still impatient, I see?” He laughs, but I close his mouth with a passionate kiss after straddling him. I have to sit up, though, because, at almost eight months, my belly is in the way. Jack seizes my hips and groans as he lifts me. I reach between our bodies to grab him and guide him to my entrance. With a long exhale, I slowly lower myself onto him, and once I’ve taken all of him in, I savor the sensation of his hard cock deep inside me before I move up and down in a rhythm that soon matches our rapid panting. I throw my head back and close my eyes while I ride him hard and fast, rolling my hips, still wanting to feel more of him.
Jack pants and moans my name underneath me, and I open my eyes to look at him. I don’t want to finish him off just yet, so I stop and grasp his hands. He sits up and buries his head between my breasts and gives my hard and sensitive nipples a little more attention. While he grabs and squeezes my ass, I grind my hips, which makes him groan louder. Being the impatient one now, he lifts me up and down his rock-hard erection until we move together just as fast as before. Jack falls back into the sheets, grasps my hands, and intertwines our fingers.
It’s not long before I sense that tingling again in my lower abdomen, announcing another out-of-this-world climax. Jack is close, too, and when I tighten around him and dig my nails into his pecs, he lets go with a loud groan and pushes me over the edge with him.
I support myself on his heaving chest so I don’t collapse onto his body. We’re both panting like crazy, with our hearts beating frantically and our skin covered in a thin layer of sweat. “Damn, Peach, I’m close to cardiac arrest,” Jack mumbles as he pulls me down next to him, sliding out of me in the process.
I gasp. “Hey! I liked you there.”
Jack chuckles as he wraps his arms around me, pulling me closer. “Don’t worry, babe. I’ll be back soon.” He grabs a blanket to cover our naked bodies, and I snuggle into his side and throw one leg over his.
I let out a satisfied sigh. “Make-up sex really is the best.”
“What? That sounds like you’ve been thinking about this.”
I chuckle. “The topic might have come up during my talk with Tessa.”
Jack laughs softly, which makes his chest vibrate—a sensation I feel with every cell in my body and relaxes me even more. Like I do so often, I rest my head on his chest and draw lazy circles on his skin. It’s moments like these when I realize how lucky I am to have him. After less than six months, Jack knows me inside out; he knows how I tick; he knows my strengths as well as my weaknesses; he worships every inch of me and knows and accepts all my flaws. He fulfills my every need, and he lets me know as often as possible that I do the same for him.
“You know,” Jack says after a moment of comfortable silence, “I was wondering: you are still taking me to your dad’s birthday party next week, right?”
I lift my head to meet his gaze. “Of course. I wouldn’t dare show up without you; that would raise questions I wouldn’t want to answer.”
“Good,” he says, burying his nose in my hair. “You know what else?”
I furrow my brows and wait for him to go on.
His lips stretch into a smile. “Rob and I buried the hatchet,” he explains. “We’re not friends yet, but at least we’ll try to act civil around each other.”
I sit up and gape at him. “Are you serious? You have no idea how happy that makes me.” I avert my gaze for a moment before looking back at him. “I guess I should try the same with Kate.” I grimace but then smile at him. “I promise I’ll be civil toward her, too, from now on.”
Jack sits up as well, his mouth only inches from mine, and his smile grows wider. “I appreciate that. And just so you know: I want to make you happy, Peach,” he murmurs and closes the remaining distance between our lips, letting me know what this evening still has in store for me.