Chapter 9

His face is beyond gentle.

Like it had been with the telescope.

"How did you know I don't like Lake's name on your cast?" he asks.

My hands go to his chest, resting on the muscles there, "How could I tell you're jealous of Lake Jordan, underwear model?" I tease lightly. "I mean"—I shrug, amusement in my belly at his grumpy expression—"I just admired his abs on a billboard on the way to meet you." Another shrug. "And then he invited himself to come with us?—"

Leo growls.

I grin, lean a little closer, until our mouths are almost pressing together, until our breaths are mingling. "Sign my cast, baby," I murmur.

A nip to my bottom lip, but then he leans back, propping himself up on his knees as he takes long moments signing his name—and doing it in a way that Lake's is completely obliterated…or at least it's mostly illegible.

"There," he says, mouth quirking as he caps the Sharpie. "Merry Christmas."

I laugh, and his face gentles again, that soft, soft voice that has toddlers bouncing around my belly making an appearance when he murmurs, "Beautiful."

God, I like him.

So freaking much.

"What?" he asks.

"I like you," I blurt, speaking my thoughts aloud. "So freaking much." Then I clamp my mouth together, feeling like an idiot, considering this is date one and we've known each other for just a few weeks?—

"Sweetheart." He brushes his lips over mine. "I've been trying to figure out how to convince you to move in with me so you can get a puppy."

I suck in a breath so quickly I choke.

Then I force myself to take another one, slower and deeper without the side of choking.

"So you're not alone in the liking"—he touches a fingertip to my cheek, the spot that feels hot and is probably bright red—"or in the so freaking much."

"Leo," I whisper.

"I know," he says. "We're going to take our time, enjoy ourselves, but know that's there, sweetheart. The liking." He bends over me again, our lips brushing as he speaks. "And the puppy."

My heart skips, and I find myself wrapping my arms around his shoulders, tugging him down so his body is flush with mine, so his mouth isn't just brushing, but it's pressing, lips parting, tongue thrusting into my mouth.

He groans and I think…

I like him so freaking much.

So…fuck it.

Fuck him.

My leg comes up and I wrap it around his waist, grinding against him.

"Jolie," he rasps.

I freaking like that too.

Almost as much as I like him skating his hand up my side, dipping under my sweatshirt, diving beneath my sweater and the thermal I'm wearing beneath.

Because his palm on my skin…much better.

In fact, it's so good, I don't feel the bite of winter's air on my skin, don't see the snow on the trees surrounding us.

I just feel Leo and his body and his hands and lips and tongue.

I don't protest when my sweatshirt is tugged up and over my head. I just tear his off as well. And when my sweater and thermal and bra join it, I make sure his shirt lands in the pile. Then his mouth is on my skin, trailing down my throat, latching onto my nipple. He cups the other, massaging it with just the right amount of rough and careful, soaking my panties.

"Shit," he whispers, releasing my breast and sliding his hand across my belly, flicking open the button on my jeans. "This is a bad idea."

His fingers were dipping beneath the fabric of my underwear, so I wasn't in agreement. "No one's around."

He lifts his head, studies the clearing, seeming to listen for several long moments.

For long enough that I hold my breath, not wanting my huffing to influence anything.

Then he glances back at me, eyes hot, and my belly melts.

I know that look.

I know it even as his hand moves, shoving my jeans down to my ankles, my underwear tangled in the denim.

Cold on my thighs and then in between as he spreads them as much as the material allows.

My breath catches when his mouth and fingers get to work, parting my folds as he leans in and suckles at my clit.

"Leo!"

He doesn't stop, thank fuck. Just keeps licking and stroking and driving toward an orgasm that's…

Here.

I cry out, pleasure filling every cell to bursting, spreading out to my limbs, slackening them, weighing me down, hanging heavy on my lids, but I'm not so out of it as to not recognize him reaching for my pants, starting to draw them back up my legs.

I catch him, halting the movements. "What are you doing?" I ask, accomplishing the herculean task of peeling open my eyes.

"You're a little indisposed, sweetheart," he murmurs.

"And you're not indisposed enough," I tell him, reaching for the button on his jeans. Tugging down the zipper.

Wow.

That's just…wow.

Something I think I say aloud because his rough chuckle fills the air.

But then I'm wrapping my fingers around him and it turns into a grunt. Then a groan as I start stroking the silken steel.

"Sweetheart—"

I grip tight. Stroke faster.

"Jolie—"

I shiver, heat blossoming between my thighs again.

A bead of moisture on the head of his cock.

I rub it into his skin, feel his body start trembling…

And then I reach for the backpack, for what I tucked into the front pocket before I left my apartment. I'm a former Girl Scout. I'm always prepared.

I get my fingers into the opening, tug the condom out, and hand it up to him.

He freezes, but only for a heartbeat.

I rub yet another bead of moisture into his skin, my thighs are parted as much as they're able with my jeans still bunched around my ankles, and my fingers are wrapped tight around his cock.

"Hurry, baby."

Then he's opening the packet, tossing the plastic square to the blanket, batting my hands away and rolling the condom down the length of his erection.

Shoving his jeans down farther.

Positioning himself between my thighs, the head of his cock brushing once, twice?—

Inside.

I gasp and he pauses, just for a moment, just to let me catch my breath before he's slamming home.

Before he's fucking me.

It's not gentle and sweet. It's rough and a bit of a fight with shoes on and jeans bunched up on our legs and our bodies tangling and the risk of sliding off the blanket and ending up in the snow surrounding us as we move together.

But it's fucking perfect.

This is just us.

Seizing this moment.

Together beneath the sky and amongst the trees, soft words and straightforward touches.

This is just us racing toward completion.

Together.

This is just us…

Flying over the edge, Leo's name on my tongue, my name in the air, pleasure flowing and joy for being in this moment filling us.

Fast. Weird. Right.

Us.

I grin as I try to slow my heart, my body sweaty and languid, two orgasms nearly having killed me.

What a way to go.

"Maybe that's my Christmas present," I say lightly, when I'm able to speak again without threat of passing out.

Leo grunts, but he pulls me a little closer, lips brushing the top of my ear.

I sigh, burrow back against him, against his warmth, the cold air slowly creeping in, reminding me of exactly where we are.

As though sensing that, Leo kisses me again and sits up, taking care of the condom while teasing me gently when I reveal my Girl Scout preparedness means I also packed tissues and a Ziplock, then buttons up.

A second later, I'm on my feet, my jeans being dragged over my thighs, his fingers working on the zipper, the button.

Bra and thermal on.

Sweater over my head.

Sweatshirt tugged down onto my torso while Leo zips up the backpack.

Snowshoes on our feet and he's just finished tightening the last strap on his when?—

Roar.

We both freeze for a second, the sound not processing.

Because it shouldn't be here.

Because…it's fucking winter.

And bears are supposed to be freaking hibernating.

ROAR!

Accompanied by breaking branches and crunching snow and?—

We look at each other, and Leo tosses the backpack over his shoulder.

The crunching gets closer.

But he's already snagged my hand.

And we're running…

Just as a shadow reaches the edge of the tree line.