and set her straight,” he says, his eyes holding mine. I should ask what he set her straight about. He’s not making any declarations to me, but I’m so caught up in the heat of his eyes that I don’t ask. The tension crackles between us like waves of an electric current, and the energy flows like a living thing.
I’m not certain who moves first.
In one second, his hands cup my jaw, and in the next, mine are in his hair, tugging it free of that signature ponytail. Our mouths clash, savoring the wine lingering on each other’s lips—sucking, licking, and tugging.
I willingly fall when I’m pressed back. This is what I want. This is what I need. I want this man between my thighs, and I shift my legs to allow him to settle against me. My dress rises, the lightweight material no match for the width of his hips.
“We should probably stop,” he mutters, but he returns to kissing me, lining his body up with mine. My hands move to his shoulder blades, and I pull him close, holding him to me.
“Probably,” I mumble against his mouth, but I don’t release him. A heavy length meets my core, and he rocks forward. The force makes my head fall back, breaking the connection between our lips only for a second, and then he’s kissing down my neck.
“You aren’t staying,” he whispers into my skin, taking his time and using open-mouthed suction along my throat to my shoulder.
“Probably not.” I exhale as his mouth finds my trigger spot—the juncture of my neck at my clavicle. I groan as he nips me, and his hand slides down my side, outlining the swell of my breast, the curve of my waist, and the roundness of my hip. His fingers wrap around my thigh, hitching my leg higher, opening me up to him. He sets a pace of slow thrusting, the thick bulge keeping time with the pulse in my core. Cool air hits my thighs as his fingers make their way over my skin, heading toward my center when I hear a heavy scrape over my head.
I still.
“What?” Jess says, continuing to pepper my skin with his warm mouth, but he’s sensed my hesitation.
“Upstairs. I heard a noise.”
Jess softly chuckles. “Little old to be worried about being caught making out on a couch.” I’d laugh if I didn’t hear the noise again. Furniture dragging over a wood floor.
“It’s not that. It’s Nana.”
Jess stops and pulls back as my hands come to his shoulder, gently pushing him away from me. “I need to check on her. I’m so sorry.” He throws himself back on the cushions, allowing me to disentangle my legs. My knees give as I stand. I was so close to the promised land, but the noise above has unnerved me. The anxiety of what she could be doing causes me to race for the stairs. To my surprise, Nana stands at the top.
“Nana,” I call out softly. I’m afraid I’ll frighten her, yet I’m frightened myself. I step over to the first stair and watch my grandmother quickly make it down three. She holds the front of her nightgown in her fist, lifting the weight of it like a princess descending the stairs.
“Nana, what are you doing?” I ask, my voice quivering as I watch her walk down the staircase. A presence at my back warns me Jess has heard the concern in my voice, and he stands near the bottom step.
“Emily,” he whispers, but I don’t look at him. I can’t take my focus off Nana. What is she doing?
“I’m going to him,” she says. “You can’t stop me.”
“Nana, you aren’t going anywhere,” I say, but this dials up the determination in her face. With her silver hair loose and wild, missing its nightly curlers, her expression screams defiance.
“You will not hold me back.”
I don’t know what she’s talking about, and I hear the question in my name from Jess at my back. His deep voice draws my grandmother’s attention.
“You can’t have him.”
My brows pinch. Does she mean Jess? Does she mean I can’t have him? Dear God, she’s not making sense.
“Who, Nana? Who can’t I have?”
“John. He loves me,” Nana hisses as she continues down the steps. I move as if to meet her in the middle until a hand circles my wrist.
“How does she know my name?”
I turn my head, only for a second. “Your name is John?”
“My full name is John James. Jess is a nickname.”