reached for him and pulled him on top of me so we were flush together, chest-to-chest. He gasped into my mouth at the sudden full contact but quickly figured out what I wanted. His touch was more confident as he slid his hands under the hem of my shirt and up my sides, rucking up the fabric as he went.
He kissed me with intention, hot, a little dirty, a little forceful, fucking his tongue into my mouth before drawing it back to trace the shape of my lips. I followed his lead and slid my hands under his shirt and up the broad plane of his back—muscled and smooth and everything I’d ever dreamed of without even knowing I was dreaming of it. I dug my fingertips in hard as if to assure myself it was real. Jazz shuddered and huffed an exhale into my mouth, breaking the kiss to tip his forehead against my shoulder.
I felt almost dizzy with the closeness, a little overwhelmed, and from the stutter in Jazz’s breath, he felt something similar.
“You all right?” I nosed at his temple and dropped a kiss there.
“Yeah. Just—thought about this,” Jazz murmured, low and quiet.
Heat shot through my gut at his admission. He’d thought about this. For how long, I wondered?
But that was a conversation for another time. Right now I just wanted him to believe me when I said I wanted him the same way. I slotted our legs together and pulled him tight against me and kissed him again. I shifted my hips, just a little, and the pressure of his thigh against my cock was enough to take me from half-hard to fully hard against him. God, it felt good, his muscular leg pressing hard but still a little unsure.
“Take this off,” I said against his mouth, tugging at his shirt.
Jazz pulled back just enough to look into my eyes. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I met his gaze steadily.
Jazz’s amber eyes searched my face for a long moment, but he must’ve seen what he was looking for, because suddenly he broke out into a grin—a dangerous grin, the grin that said he was about to do something crazy.
A grin I found I was excited to see.
He shifted on top of me so his knees bracketed my hips, and then sat up and pulled his shirt off over his head.
All that tan skin suddenly visible made my mouth fucking water. I wanted to touch every inch of him, wanted to pin him down beneath me and drag my tongue over his dusky peaked nipples, the jut of his ribs, the defined lines of his abs. I’d seen his body plenty—we grew up together, and we weren’t shy. But like this, with him above me, grinning a little devilishly, it was so different. Like I was seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time.
I gripped his hip with one hand and skated my hand across his abs, up to the lowest point of his shoulder blade.
“You too,” Jazz demanded. I was reluctant to take my hands off him, but I did, just long enough to wriggle out of my own shirt.
Jazz swore under his breath as I tossed my shirt aside. His hands immediately fell onto my chest, sliding from my shoulders, and the pressure of his strong, rough hands on my skin made my breath catch. Fuck. It’d never felt like this with women. Never felt like my nerves were coming alive for the first time from just the heat of my partner’s fingertips.
Jazz shifted as he touched me, and my cock pressed hard into the swell of his ass. I gripped his hips with both hands and shifted my hips under, suddenly desperate for more friction.
“You’re injured,” I complained. “You should be lying down.”
It was an excuse, though—really, I thought I was going to come embarrassingly hard, and embarrassingly soon, if he didn’t get off of me.
“Oh, should I?” Jazz raised his eyebrows, but acquiesced. He lay flat on his back next to me and folded his arms behind his head, still grinning at me. The position drew my eyes to the muscular curve of his biceps and the long, lean muscle of his abs. “You have something planned?”
I felt like I was fucking coming apart at the seams. How was he so calm? It sparked something competitive in me—I wanted him. All of him. And I wanted him to want it as badly as I did.
I leaned over and kissed him hard, halfway on top of him