Cursive - By Phoebe Lane Page 0,84

up to search for Aislynn.

He found her pacing outside on the deck, a scowl on her face, her hair messy and braided to one side. She was wearing the shirt he had worn to dinner that night and the buttons were visibly mismatched. On the living room table, he found the play oven he had gifted her and trays full of recently-baked miniature cupcakes and cookies.

She startled when he opened the glass door and unsuccessfully tried to change the expression of worry on her face.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she said, eyes turning down. Jace put his hands around her waist and pulled her to him. She was tense, her skin was cold, and her eyes were sad and troubled.

I wonder what she's worried about—is it what happened with her mom…is it Christopher?

The thought had been bothering him since Pam had tried to bring Christopher up at dinner. It hadn't escaped Jace's attention how strongly Aislynn had reacted to the mention of his name and the urgency with which she changed the subject. Aislynn had said she didn't know the exact reason why her ex-fiancé had broken up with her, but Jace suspected otherwise, and it had been weighing on his mind for a while now.

There's always a reason. She must know.

"I just couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake you with all my tossing and turning."

"So you decided to turn my dining room into a bakery in the middle of the night?" he asked playfully.

"Oh, yeah, that," she said with a sad smile, and looked into the house. "I've now discovered baking calms me down. But then I noticed those cookies are two decades past their expiration date, so I wouldn't eat them if I were you."

"Good call," he said with a chuckle. "Why are you upset? Is it your mom?"

"Yeah, I guess. I have to take her to the airport tomorrow morning, and I'm not sure how that's gonna go."

"You don't really have to. We can arrange some transportation for her if you want—" He stopped as he watched Aislynn shake her head vigorously.

"I can't…I won't run from this anymore. I have to confront her once and for all. I left that restaurant without getting an answer back. I need to see this through."

My brave girl.

"Okay," he answered, and hugged her.

"Oh, and your cell phone was ringing earlier. I was afraid it was an emergency with your family or something, so I peeked. It was a blocked number."

Damn it.

He didn't want to lie or worry her even more, so he didn't try to explain. He dragged her to one of the loungers instead and lay down next to her, the sound of their breaths and the waves helping clear his mind.

Aislynn's hands softly roamed over his naked chest, and he felt his breath immediately quicken. He wasn't sure if this was the right time to be feeling this way, but it was impossible to control his body's instinctual reaction to her soft hands on him.

He closed his eyes and tried to distract his mind with something else, but it was an exercise in futility. He was hard within seconds, and the thin fabric of his cotton pajama bottoms did nothing to hide it. He decided to risk a look and watched her hand move down his torso, her eyes open and directly focused on the path that lay before her. Her skin had turned an enticing shade of pink, and her nipples were hard and clearly visible through her shirt.

"I'm sorry. We really don't have to—" he said, but Aislynn straddled him before he was able to finish the sentence. Her lips were immediately on him, her hands tugging at his hair roughly. Her tongue was inside him within seconds, insistent on tasting him.

It all felt very different than any of the other times they had been together. He could feel the frustration, anxiety, and maybe even anger coming out of her. She sucked his bottom lip into her mouth and then gently bit it, making him twitch involuntarily, the restriction of his pants becoming unbearable. As if she could read his mind, Aislynn reached down to stroke him a few times over the fabric, and then pushed the front of his pants down.

"Aislynn, we're outside. Anyone can see," Jace forced out as he held her wrist, not really wanting her to stop, but trying to be sensible about it.

"I don't fucking care. The only fucking I care about is the one I need you to give