Poison & Wine - Melissa Toppen Page 0,49

but in the presence of one another. He’s different, that much is clear. And I know how much I’ve changed. It’s so strange, feeling like the same kids we used to be, yet knowing that we haven’t actually been those people for a very long time.

I open my mouth to say something, feeling like too much time has passed, but for some reason the words get caught in my throat and nothing comes out.

Jace’s gaze dips down, his nostrils flaring slightly as he takes in my thin nightgown. The one I had forgotten I was wearing until this very moment.

I was in such a rush to get out here and check on him that I didn’t think about the fact that I had changed into my pajamas earlier.

My skin heats as if the sun were blaring down on my back, despite the fact that it set some time ago.

God, what time is it? I’m not sure that I even know.

When his gaze comes back to mine, there’s something there. Something that makes it feel like a thousand tiny fireworks are erupting right beneath my skin.

“You’ve been drinking.” His voice is low.

“How do you know?” The words come out airy.

“Because your skin.” He reaches out and traces the back of his hand along my cheek. “It always flushes when you drink.”

I visibly shudder against his touch.

“I wasn’t thinking,” I start, realizing that running over here, half crocked, to confront Jace to make sure he wasn’t drinking might have been an insensitive move.

“Relax, Oak. It’s okay.” He drops his hand and I instantly want to pick it back up and put it back where it was. “I’m not going to see the flush of your cheeks or smell the sweet wine on your breath and go running for the nearest bar.” I hadn’t even considered he could smell it on me… “I’m stronger than that.” He steps closer, leaving only the slim frame of the door as separation.

“I just… I just needed to make sure you were okay. Are you?”

“No.” He blows out a hard breath. “But I will be.” With that, he grabs my hand and tugs me into the apartment.

I haven’t even reacted before the door slams shut. Moments later, he backs me against it, caging me in with his arms.

“Jace.” My breathy plea barely reaches the surface.

“If you don’t want this, say it now and you can leave.” He dips his face down so that his eyes are level with mine. “Tell me you don’t want this.” It’s almost like he’s begging me to stop him, yet I’m not sure I have the power to.

I’m intoxicated. On wine, on Jace, on the way it feels to have him so close after all these years.

“Tell me not to kiss you.” He slides his nose against mine. “Tell me not to touch you.” I jump when his fingers graze my bare thigh. “Stop me, Oakley,” he breathes, his lips just a whisper from mine.

I should stop him. I need to stop him. Yet in this moment it’s the last thing I have the strength to do.

“I can’t.” The words tremble from my throat.

“You can’t what?” He presses against me, the evidence of his arousal digging into my lower belly.

“I can’t stop you.”

And just like that, what little restraint he was holding onto seems to snap.

His lips crash down on mine, so hard and full of need that I’m instantly caught up in the whirlwind that is Jace Matthews.

My body acts on its own accord. My hands dive into his hair. My tongue slides against his. My hips buck upward in an effort to tame the sudden heat burning through my core.

I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone as badly as I do Jace in this moment. Years of pent up frustration, anger, and regret bleed out as I tear at his shirt and fumble with the buckle of his pants.

I don’t want to make love. I don’t want my heart to have anything to do with this. Right now I just want him. All of him.

I get him down to his boxers before my nightgown is discarded somewhere on the floor. My panties are ripped from my body as Jace desperately strips me bare. Then I’m in his arms, my legs around his waist, my back pressing into the rough wood of the door, flesh to flesh for the first time in over four years.

The heat of his body. The strength of his hands. The taste of his lips. It’s almost