Paris Is Always a Good Idea - Jenn McKinlay Page 0,134
my hands on his hips and used his body, which he had braced above me, to leverage myself against him.
He huffed out a breath and said, “You’re killing me, darling.”
Darling. I turned my head and smiled into his neck. The endearment made my heart squeeze tight. I wanted to be his darling more than anything else in the world.
But then he lowered his head and took one nipple in his mouth, biting down enough to make me buck up against him. We both groaned at the contact, and then he gave in. He reached below me and cupped my bottom, angling my hips so he could thrust into me as deeply as we both needed. It was everything.
I felt myself go hot, and when my orgasm hit, it spread through my entire body like shock waves. I clenched so tightly around him, I wondered if I’d hurt him, but with another thrust he was right there with me. I could feel him pulsing inside of me, and it felt as if we really had managed to merge into one being.
Sweaty, hot, and exhausted, we curled up in the soft sheets of Jason’s bed with his arm anchoring me to him and my head tucked under his chin as if that space had been made just for me.
“Darling, can we go home now?” His voice was a soft whisper against my ear, making me shiver. His arm tightened about me, enfolding me into his warmth.
Home. I thought about seeing my dad and Sheri, and for the first time, it didn’t hurt. In fact, I felt a burst of genuine happiness for him. I lifted my head and kissed Jason, surprising him. His sleepy eyes brightened, and he rolled me under him.
“What was that for?” he asked.
Looping my arms around his neck, I held his gaze and said, “Yes, I want to go home with you.”
He grinned. It was a wicked grin, full of mischief and delight. Then he kissed me, and I forgot about everything except him.
chapter twenty-six
IT WAS THE sound of the songbirds in the trees that woke me, and I smiled. For the first time in as long as I could remember, everything was right with the world, because in deciding to spend the night with Jason, I had chosen him . . . but I had also chosen me. I was finally ready to embrace me.
What he had said last night was true. I had been clinging to my grief as if it were the last bit of my mother I could hold on to, and I was tired, so tired of being sad. But Jason understood. He knew that my joy would always have a flip side of sorrow, because he felt the same way. What an amazing gift it was to have a person who understood me so completely.
I stretched in the large bed and rolled over to see if he was awake yet. He wasn’t there. The bed was empty, but the dent in the pillow where his head had been remained. I blinked. I heard the shower running and settled back down amid the soft, warm sheets.
His phone chimed on his nightstand, and I glanced at it, wondering if it was an alarm. I saw the screen display a message, and I leaned over to read it in case it was something urgent from Severin. Jason had said they were still detained, and I was hoping that everything was all right.
I lifted his phone and looked at the screen. Sure enough, an alert appeared saying there was a new text message from Severin—well, technically Eleanor, as I knew she did all his texting for him.
I wondered if they were all right. As erratic as Severin was, he was now two days late in coming to Tuscany. I had the horrible thought that something awful had happened. I glanced at the display. How wrong was it to look at Jason’s phone? Total invasion of privacy? How pissed would I be if he looked at my phone when I was in the shower? Well, if he thought it was an emergency, I’d understand. Reassured, I tapped in the code I’d seen him use. Honestly, the man and I needed to talk about his security—from me, apparently.
I opened his text app and read the message, but it had nothing to do with Severin coming to Italy. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Eleanor: Following up. When can we expect you and Chelsea in Boston to finalize the proposal?