We both move at the same time, and I kick the door closed with my foot, not wanting to break away from him. He tastes like sin and pleasure all wrapped up in a neat little package.
Who needs to stay away when I only have a few more months of Jacob?
His tongue slides against mine, and I moan. This man does something to me, and I can’t explain it. It’s as though he reaches into me, takes the broken parts, and mends them. My heart will be decimated when he leaves Sugarloaf, but I don’t want to stop this.
His hands are in my hair, pulling it free from the ponytail, before they move down my back, holding me tighter to his body.
“Jacob,” I say softly.
“Bed or the couch, beautiful?”
“Both.”
He chuckles softly, and then lifts me into his arms, carrying me to the couch. When he sits, I’m straddling his lap, kissing him as fiercely as I can.
I move my lips to his throat, and I can feel his erection as I rock back and forth. “God, I missed you today.”
“Yeah?”
He nods. “I thought about you all day, wishing I could make some kind of rehearsal on a Saturday just to see you.”
It would be so easy to read into his words, to think he’s saying that because his feelings are deeper than just sex for me. In some ways, I think they are, but Jacob has been clear that we are just this.
“You’re seeing me now.” My voice is low and husky.
He pushes me so that he can really get a good look. “Not enough of you. I want to see all of you. I want you naked.”
I pull my shirt over my head and watch his eyes flare with lust. “You have the most beautiful body, Brenna.”
“I think you win in that category.”
“Not even close.” He comes closer, his tongue darting out and licking my nipple. “You’re gorgeous.” His tongue makes the same movement on the other side. “You make me so fucking hard.” To make his point, he moves his hips up, letting me feel it. “I swear . . . when you walked in yesterday in that skirt, all I could think about was how I wanted to get you in a dark corner and see if you could keep quiet while I fucked you.”
The image of my hands on the wall in my office or a closet somewhere, Jacob pulling my skirt up and slamming into me as I bit down to keep from yelling causes heat to pool.
“Now, that would’ve been interesting.”
He sucks my nipple into his mouth, moving his tongue in a circle. “Interesting? I think it would’ve been something much more than that.”
My fingers tangle in his hair as he continues to lick and suck. He moves his hips again, his hard length gliding along where I want him most. Then his hand is between us, pushing the thin cotton shorts over so his finger can graze my clit.
I have never been like this. It wasn’t that sex was ever bad, but I was never this consumed.
I want him. I need him to make the ache that’s in my chest ease.
Everything is so intense, and I know that this time with him will be the same.
“Jacob . . .” I’m asking, pleading, and maybe begging for more.
“What, beautiful?”
“Please, I need . . .”
“Tell me.”
I look down at him, and his green eyes are filled with so much desire that I could drown in it. “I need you inside me.”
His head falls back, and he easily lifts me up. “This time, I won’t deny you,” he says as he pulls his pants down. “It’s been too long, Brenna. I’ve craved you too much.”
I stand and strip, watching as he gets naked.
It’s as though the two of us are speaking the same language. It’s been a week since we were together this way. Seven days of nothing but replaying the memories, imagining his hands on my skin as I showered. Seven mornings of debating going for a walk just to happen upon him.
My dreams have been filled with fantasies of the two of us.
Seeing him at rehearsals and having to keep my focus away from him was torture. It was as though, if I allowed myself to look at him, I might just do something stupid.
When we’re both naked and panting, something shifts in the confines of the room, and he moves toward me at the same time that I go to him. We clash, and I swear thunder rumbles when we do.
Our mouths fuse together in the most frantic and desperate kiss. I can’t get deep enough, feel him strong enough, and I want all of him. There’s emotion thick and filling every nook of this living room.
I’m on my back, Jacob braced over me. Two seconds ago, we were standing, and I have no idea how we ended up on the couch while we were kissing, but the heat of his body burns me everywhere.
“I want you,” he tells me. “I need you and . . . fuck . . . I just need you, Brenna. All the fucking time.”
I feel the same, but I won’t confess it. “This is crazy.”
He kisses my neck, grabbing a handful of my hair and pulling it back to expose more of my throat. “You do this to me. You and no one else.”
I want to let myself trip and fall into the idea that he means that, but I know he just feels that way because we are both clearly desperate for what we shared again. It’s not feelings—it’s lust.
My legs fall open even wider, needing him inside me. “Please, Jacob. Please.”
He moves, shifting forward. When he enters me, I scream out in pleasure. It feels so good. It’s as though all the pieces that were floating have settled, and I’m whole again.
Of all the men in the world to make me feel this way, I wish it weren’t him. Not because he’s wrong but because he’s right. In a few weeks, Jacob has shown me that I’m ready to move on. Too bad it can’t be with him.
“Rock, paper, scissors for it,” Jacob says as he holds the very last spoonful of mint chocolate chip ice cream.
“It’s my ice cream!”
“It’s my spoon.”
I roll my eyes. “I own the spoon.”
“Yes, but isn’t possession nine-tenths of the law or some shit?” he counters. “I’m clearly in possession.”
We’re sitting at the kitchen table, completely naked, and he’s feeding me ice cream. I never thought this would ever be my life. Not just because he’s Jacob but because this is fun. I’m smiling, happy, completely sated, and comfortable, which is odd because I’m freaking naked in the kitchen.
“Okay, fine, but this is totally unfair.”
“It wouldn’t be unfair if you won.”
I grin. “This is true.”
“Okay, well, let’s settle this fair and square. Winner takes all.”
Both of us put our fist out. “You’re going down, Arrowood.”
“Don’t be so sure, Allen.”
I try to think about this and be strategic. Jacob is a pretty solid man. He knows what he wants and doesn’t budge. When I think about what he’d choose, I think it’s a rock. I’m totally going to win. If I pick paper, I’ll cover rock and win, get my ice cream and then maybe Jacob can be my cherry on top.
I give him an alluring smile. “Ready?”
“Always.”
We both pound our hand. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.”
I lay out paper, and then Jacob shocks me with scissors. His wide grin and the twinkle in his eyes are his only reaction to his win. “Well, it seems you’ve been beat.” He takes the spoon, bringing it toward his lips.