Chapter 24
jett
The bathroom door flies open, banging against the marble countertop, and I barely withhold a manly yelp. Cool air funnels into the room, and the music playing from my phone stops.
“I can’t let it go,” Sofía announces. “I know I said it’s not a big deal, but I lied. I don’t get it.”
When we checked into our hotels yesterday, she spent twenty minutes in her room before a knock rapped on my door.
Sofía hasn’t left since, except to collect a few things from her suitcase.
Even when Doug and I went on a solo tour today—neither of the women had any interest in chasing down bugs and reptiles—she didn’t leave.
Instead of coming back to an empty room, I was greeted with a breathtaking smile and a kiss.
I had to remind myself not to get used to it.
The hangers grate against the metal rod as I pull the shower curtain to the side. “No, I’m not busy at all. Please come in,” I tease.
The joke lands flat, and Sofía blinks, scanning left and right, like she can’t believe she’s barged into the bathroom while I’m showering. Her thoughts are plain on her face, panicked and unsure.
Cold water pelts my back, cooling my skin from the long day.
“Oh, god, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to crash your private time.”
She spins on her heel to retreat, but I whip an arm out and snag her wrist. “You can stay, I was only teasing you. I don’t mind the company.”
“You want me to stay?”
There are times when she’s the most confusing puzzle on the planet, and a cat has stolen half the pieces I need to solve it. She came into the bathroom, heated about something, panicked when I teased her, and now she’s shocked I want her to stay?
“Well—” I pause, lifting a brow. “You could join me. That’s an option, too.”
Her cheeks turn ruddy, and I leave her to decide, retreating behind the curtain. I’ll never pressure her or force her to make a choice she’s not fond of. I think she’s had enough of that in her life. What kind of person would I be if I added to it?
My heart pumps in my chest, unsure if she’s on the other side of the fabric or if she’s retreated to safer territory. “What can’t you let go?” I ask, trying to temper the hope that she’s still with me.
A beat passes before she squeaks, “Sorbet is not as good as ice cream.”
I almost slip in the shower from laughter. That’s why she barged in here? I have to respect the hill she chose to die on, but she’s wrong. No matter how pretty she is or how the crinkle in her brow often dissolves my argument, I need to stay strong.
Ice cream is her hill to die on; sorbet is mine.
“You’re right,” I reply, tilting my head back to wet my hair. “It’s not as good. It’s better.”
The curtain unceremoniously rips to the side, and Sofía leaps into the shower, screeching when the cold water hits her skin.
Holy shit, I didn’t think she would take me up on the offer.
“You evil monster,” she screams, crumpling in on herself as she cowers in the corner where the water can’t touch her. “This was your plan all along.”
I block the stream and turn up the heat to a more tolerable temperature, laughter wheezing out of me.
Cold morphs to skin melting, and when steam forms, Sofía straightens and the humor fades.
The minuscule space between us evaporates, and water cascades down her hair, over the planes of her skin, each droplet teasing me as they glide down her body.
The way I want her…it was never like this with Grace. This all-consuming need to be beside her, to hear her opinion on matters, to coax out that soft giggle she offers when she’s shy.
“My plan?” I croak, the words like sandpaper on my throat.
“Get me naked, then freeze me to death to win your argument.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say—”
The rebuttal fizzles on my tongue when she presses into me, arms curling around my neck to drag me down into a tender, slow kiss.
There are fissures in the shell Sofía uses to protect herself, deepening every day.
She’s breaking out, fully stepping into the confidence I know she possesses, and it’s a beautiful thing to witness.
Her hands roam down my shoulders, along my back, and land on my ass, where she squeezes. A surprised huff escapes me before she captures it in another kiss, her lips shaped into a pleased grin. There’s no rush, no frenzy for more, and the gentle intimacy drags me deeper.
This is all I’ve ever wanted—a connection with someone on every level.
To have safety and support and offer the same to someone else.
Days full of laughter and quiet nights enjoying each other’s company.
I thought I wanted that with Grace, but I realize now my relationship with her was a fraction of what I have with Sofía. Grace was the beginning of the road that was leading me here. I could have been happy with her, I think, if it had ended differently, but I never would have felt like this.
Before Sofía waltzed into my life, I was half a person, and now I’m whole.
Her hands continue to explore, fingernails dragging over my abdomen to graze my cock, hard and pressed against her stomach. My breath hitches, and she huffs a laugh.
“Do you like driving me crazy?” I breathe, desire building at the base of my spine as she wraps her hand around me, slowly pumping.
Sofía peers up beneath dark, thick lashes, the corner of her mouth tugging.
“Maybe a little.” Her grip tightens, and then she releases me and grabs the shampoo bottle. “Bend down,” she commands.
“You want to wash my hair?”
My heartbeat elevates to an unnatural rhythm, and I gawk at the bottle between us. She spins me around. Three quick taps hit my ass.
“Bend down, please.”
I chuckle, scrubbing at my jaw. “Right.”
Nerves flutter in my belly as she massages shampoo into my scalp, holding still even when the water sprays into my mouth and the muscles in my legs cramp. I want this to last forever, not the few minutes we have.
She finishes, and I face her, drinking in every inch of her, from the soft lips pulled between her teeth, the deep-brown hair plastered to her face, all the way down to her painted toenails that wiggle beneath the stream.
I gulp when I drag my gaze north and realize she’s watching me admire her. Only after a moment do I recognize she’s doing the same. We trade places, and I clean her hair, gently detangling the strands with my fingers and allowing the conditioner to set.
It’s hard to find words—at least not any she would be comfortable hearing or that I should say. Her hands find my stomach, lathering soap along my skin, and I groan, greedy for the contact. I’ll never get enough of her touch—forever craving more.
I don’t know how I’m going to live without it.
We exit the shower, and what grows in the silence is a comfortable existence. It’s how I imagine a life with someone you love. Joy in the quiet moments. Intimacy without words. Calm, settled, complete.
Sofía is quick to run, wrapping a towel around herself before darting into the main area. Bent over, she digs through her bag, pajamas in her grip when I lift her into the air.
A cacophony of giggles turns into sweet music as I toss her onto the bed and her towel falls open.
“Jett,” she exclaims, my name morphing into a soft moan as I take her nipple into my mouth.
I kiss a path down her skin, chasing every soft moan and mewl, until I’m kneeling between her open legs. She lifts onto her elbows and peers down at me with hooded eyes. She’s patient, waiting for me to make a move, and I let the energy in the air crackle with anticipation.
“Tell me what you want,” I whisper, pressing a kiss to her inner thigh.
She nibbles on her lower lip, and then, in a tiny voice, murmurs, “You.”
The declaration takes root, whether or not she means it, and I ignore the tightness behind my sternum, instead focusing on her, on this moment, not what happens when we leave the continent.
Her back arches when I swirl my tongue around her clit, repeating the motions and movements that brought her to the edge last time. My cock is painfully hard as she squirms, clutching the bedsheets while her orgasm builds.
“Oh, fuck,” she moans, clenching as I slip a finger inside her.
The muscles in her thighs twitch, and I know she’s close, teetering on the edge of bliss. All she needs is a little push. I add a second finger, working in tandem with my tongue until she’s a mess—nothing but soft, breathy moans of my name.
Fuck, do I revel in the way she unravels. I almost want her to call me Ulysses. No one calls me by my legal name, not even my family anymore, but I crave to hear her scream it for me.
Sofía flies off the bed as she shatters apart, her fingers finding the wet strands of my hair, tugging and twisting. My chest heaves with the energy required to keep my orgasm at bay, and I rise to climb on top of her.
“Wow,” she mutters. “Wow.”
She cracks a satisfied eye and wraps her legs around my waist, pulling me in until we’re flush. The evidence of her orgasm coats my erection, and I hiss, dropping my head to her shoulder.
Her chest shakes with laughter as her fingernails drag down my back. “God, this is fun,” she admits.
I lift my head. “As opposed to being boring?”
The rosy tint of her cheeks deepens, spreading to her ears. “Well…sometimes, it can be.”
A green haze covers my vision, rogue thoughts of Sofía’s past relationships swirling through my mind. Her brows dip, and then she’s kissing me, melting away the unwanted emotions.
“Not with you,” she says against my lips, one hand trailing down my abdomen.
She wraps her fingers around my cock, lazily pumping as the kiss deepens, shifts, and morphs as we take and relinquish control.
I drag her bottom lip between my teeth, and she squeezes my shaft, increasing the pressure at the base.
Energy crackles down my spine, pleasure pooling like water ready to overflow the rim of a cup.
Time stretches until there’s nothing else but us, right here, suspended in the weight of the connection. My orgasm barrels in strong and fast, overtaking my vision as I spill into her hand and stomach.