Lungs locked, chin tipped to the sky, eyes pinched shut.
And with a fatal flex, I came unraveled beneath him in a long, sweet shudder.
But he didn’t slow. Didn’t stop. Rode the rhythm at the pace I’d set, but with new intention. He rose so he could see me through hooded eyes, braced himself with one hand so he could grip my waist in the other. I could feel him close in the force of his thrust, in the surge of him inside me. He gasped, buried in me, pausing for a frozen heartbeat, and he came with a deep moan and a new, slow retreat and advance, drawing out his pleasure as if to feel every inch of me with every inch of him, strictly for appreciation’s sake.
He didn’t collapse, didn’t roll over, but lowered his body onto mine slowly, bracketing my face with his hands, his fingers in my hair.
And he laid a kiss on me that shook the stars.
A long admiration, a sweet adoration, a praise to a thing we wanted, we needed.
Each other.
He pulled away to look down at me, to sweep my hair from my face, to trace the lines of its shape with his gaze, with his fingertips.
And I smiled. “If I’d known this was what I was missing, I would have made you kiss me a long time ago.”
His laughter was a deep, rumbling sound in the cavern of his chest. Another kiss, this one brief.
“Stay the night, and you’ll regret not making me kiss you the second you got off that plane.”
Turned out that for once, he was right.
20
Bossypants
JAKE
The sun was barely over the horizon, my room touched with shades of violet that would soon be buttery yellow, and Olivia Brent lay snoring softly in my arms.
I found it extraordinarily hard not to laugh.
She was naked as sin, our legs entwined and her arm draped over my waist. I’d woken with us just like this, though I’d leaned back a little to get a look at her face on hearing her snoring.
God, she was gonna be annoyed when I told her.
I couldn’t wait. In fact, I almost woke her up just to fuck with her about it.
Her other arm was somewhere beneath her pillow, her cheek smushed up against the downy fluff and her lips parted just enough to see a sliver of teeth and the dark promise of her mouth behind them.
I almost woke her for that too.
But I couldn’t bring myself to disturb her. Her hair was a mess of copper tangles—my fault—her skin creamy white. The covers rested in the bend of her waist, her breasts bare. My eyes stopped their roaming at the sight of the pale pink of her nipples, the peak smooth and soft. A rush of blood headed south at the thought of bringing them to attention.
Hell, maybe I’ll wake her up after all.
A shift, and my lips pressed a kiss to the space between her breasts, brushed the curve, closed over the nipple I’d admired. She mewled sleepily, her hips flexing in my direction.
I abandoned my place in favor of another warm, welcoming space I’d acquainted myself with into the small hours of the morning. Beneath the sheets, the shape of her was dim, but I found my way just fine. She rolled onto her back, spreading her legs in invitation, her hand stroking my face, my hair, with infinite care.
In the haze of the morning, I couldn’t seem to remember how it hadn’t always been just like this. The time before last night was nothing but a memory, a faraway, forgotten dream. What a fool I’d been for not spending every minute I could right here, with her in my mouth, with her sighs in my ears, with the warmth of her waiting for me.
Now that I had her, I couldn’t fathom her leaving—abandoning the farm wasn’t on the list of probable outcomes. All that work I’d done to push her away had been to spite myself, and I wondered how I could hate myself so much that I’d ignored the gift of her.
I paid homage to one of what I suspected were many gifts that came along with her until she wriggled away and flipped over, redirecting me with an outstretched hand between her legs. Chuckling, I kissed my way up her back until what she wanted was in her palm, then diving into her slick center. I watched her, my hands guiding her by way of her hips, her face pressed into