Will she want to come back to Chicago after her international adventures? Or will she write me off as a summer fling and jump-start her life somewhere else? Maybe she’ll meet someone else while she’s away. Someone with a do-gooder heart like hers, and fall desperately in love with him.
The coffee maker beeps quietly, drawing me back to the present where there’s a one-of-a-kind woman sleeping in my bed right now. Not in some foreign land, but here with me. And I have to make the most of my time with her before it’s too late.
I fill two matching mugs and head back toward the bedroom, softly pushing the door open with my foot. She’s now cozied up in the center of my bed, her hair catching hints of sunlight and her cheeks rosy with warmth. I set the mugs on the bedside table, swearing when a drop of scalding liquid leaks onto my thumb.
Caretaker that she is, it’s my discomfort that wakes Jessa. Her eyes open immediately, wide with concern. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah.” I sigh, annoyed with myself. “I just spilled a little. Careful, it’s hot.”
She follows my gesture toward the twin cups of coffee, the serious expression on her face melting away into a warm, grateful smile.
“How did you know I take my coffee black?” she asks, cocking her head.
Her tangled hair cascades over one naked shoulder, and it’s hard to tear my eyes away from her exposed chest. For as much as I fucking adore her tits, I’m doing an excellent job of maintaining eye contact.
Wait, what did she ask me?
“Truthfully,” I manage to say, barely recovering, “I didn’t. I take mine black, and it didn’t even occur to me to offer you cream or sugar. I actually don’t know if I have sugar. I can run to the minimart and grab some if you want—”
Jessa cuts me off, reaching for my hand and giving it a squeeze. “This is great.”
I scrub my other hand through my hair, which is officially too long for comfort. “Guess I’m out of practice in this area. The morning-after area.”
“Well, that’s preferred in my book.” She chuckles, leaning in to press a firm kiss against my lips and threading her fingers together behind my neck.
My eyes flutter closed as I relish the simplicity of this domestic moment. And as soon as the pleasure comes, so does its good friend pain.
My heart hitches. Don’t leave.
When we part, she gives me a sly little smile. “Thanks for the coffee.”
Unable to resist, I kiss her again. “You’re welcome.”
After waiting a bit until it’s no longer scalding hot, we both enjoy that first life-giving sip of coffee that comes with the start of each new day. Jessa squirms happily when it reaches her lips, brightening at the flavor.
“God, that’s good.”
The words throw me back to last night, when she was whispering them in between sexy little whimpers. I feel a kick of interest in my shorts. She looks comfortable as hell, perched up against my pillows without a single swatch of fabric covering her naked body, just the sheet. I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t turning me on right now.
“Do you want one of my T-shirts?” I ask, more for myself than for her.
She meets my gaze, drawing the sheets higher up over her chest. “Oh, sure, yeah. Sorry.”
Hell no.
Realizing my mistake, I set my coffee down with a soft thunk, not caring if it sloshes onto my nightstand. Planting one knee on the mattress, I lean into her, pulling her cup from her hands and setting it aside before capturing her lips in a hungry, demanding kiss. Jessa sighs against my mouth, her fingers latching onto the thick cotton of my hoodie before wandering beneath to reacquaint herself with the muscles of my torso.
I tug at the sheet, a silent request that she eagerly agrees to. The sheet slides off her shoulders, and before long, I’m mounted between her legs again, grinding myself against her with a desperation that should have been satisfied last night. Seems like Jessa really brings out the sex fiend in me. She opens her lips to the prompting of my tongue, giving me access to the bittersweet taste of coffee already coating her mouth. We both pull back simultaneously, gasping for air.
“You can lie here naked in my bed for as long as you’d like.”
“But what if I want to wear one of your shirts?” There’s that sly smile again.
The image of one of my soft gray tees draped over Jessa’s curves flashes through my mind, sending a hot coil of desire down to the now full-blown erection in my shorts.
“Then I’ll gladly give you one. But I’d only ask that, eventually, it goes back on the floor where it belongs.” I nod down to her perky boobs, which rise and fall with her laughter.
What a sight.
“Don’t you have stuff to do today?” she asks before our lips meet again for a brief, sweet kiss.
“Oh yeah. Lots of stuff.” I lower myself to her neck, pressing featherlight kisses to her pulse, right where I know she likes it best. “Very important work to do.”
“Maybe,” she says with a happy sigh, one bare leg lifting to squeeze against my hip, “you should get to work then.”
“Whatever you say, boss.” I growl into her collarbone before nipping and sucking one perky nipple into my mouth. But when the next words leave Jessa’s lips on the tail end of a satisfied sigh, I still.
“I like you a lot, Connor.”
It’s so frank and sincere that I struggle to find the words to compete. Because how do you tell the woman destined to leave you just how much she means to you?
Well, damn. I guess you just do.
“I like you a lot too, Jessa.”
15
* * *
CONNOR
“Hold still!”
Jessa’s fingers are splayed across my damp head, turning it this way and that as the foreboding sound of scissors working gets closer and closer to my ears. After putting Marley to bed and popping open a bottle of red, we were ready to cuddle up with a movie and chill for the rest of the night when I caught my reflection in the darkness of the screen.
My hair is longer than it’s been in years, so I made the innocent mistake of complaining about it, among a litany of other tedious to-do items I haven’t gotten around to yet, like getting my oil changed, updating my voter status, researching new dishwashers. As a single dad with a full-time job and very few free moments to myself, it’s hard to summon up the energy to do even the easiest of tasks. So when Jessa offered to trim my hair for me, a job I’d normally assign to a professional, I couldn’t think of a good reason to say no.
Now, I can think of a few.
“Remind me how many times you’ve cut another person’s hair?” As hard as I try to mask it, my voice gives away just how nervous I am. I can’t go into work looking like I put my head in the blender.
Jessa’s eyes meet mine in the bathroom mirror, where I’m fixed like a petrified gargoyle on a stool with a gray towel draped around my shoulders. She goes back to focusing her attention on measuring the hair on either side of my head.
Even in this bright fluorescent lighting, she’s beautiful. Watching her at work is always captivating, but having those blue eyes zeroed in on me? It stirs a little excitement in my core. Or maybe that’s my nerves, seeing as I might not make it out of this night in one piece.