Chapter 15

CHAPTER 15

JANE

" W ell, this was nice." Simon walks me to the door, close enough that his hand brushes against mine.

"It was. I had fun." I tuck some hair, worrying my lip.

We had a good time. Simon's very kind and interesting. He paid for dinner and made me laugh a bunch.

Afterwards, we walked around town for an hour, talking about our jobs and hobbies. If I had to grade our date in the book of first dates, I would give it a solid B-plus.

But despite Simon's charm, despite how polite and sweet he's been all night, he wasn't able to keep my attention for very long. And it's not his fault. It's because my thoughts constantly drift back to Joe. To his face, his dimples, the taste of his lips, his skin, all of it continually flooding my brain.

Simon leans in for a kiss, and I find myself wishing Joe was in his place. He's an inch from my mouth and I can't help but shift enough for his lips to land on my cheek.

Awkwardness forces its way between us and I try to hide it with a shy laugh, but Simon's gaze moves from my eyes to my lips, then he steps back.

"We should do this again sometime," he says, his voice wavering.

"We should," I reply. "I'll call you."

He looks as if he wants to say something more, but ends up forcing a tight smile. "Have a good night, Jane."

"Goodnight, Simon."

He holds the door for me, and with a glance over my shoulder, I see him watching until I disappear up the stairs.

I should like Simon and see the potential of us together, or at the very least, another date, but something keeps blocking the possibility from growing.

It's a little past ten o'clock, much earlier than I thought I'd be home. I'm exhausted, which is likely because of the tug-of-war in my brain and the guilt weighing on my shoulders since Joe and I fought this morning. All I'm craving is a long bubble bath and a glass of wine.

The apartment is dark except for the bluish hue of the TV reflecting on the wall.

I drop my keys onto the table next to his. "Joe?"

There's no answer. I listen carefully, kicking off my shoes, but only hear the low hush of voices from the TV.

I wonder if Joe's brought home a date and tentatively walk toward the living room, spotting him on the couch. He's alone and I breathe out a soft sigh of relief.

His leg droops over the armrest, his arm hangs off the edge. He's shirtless, too, a bowl of popcorn carefully balanced on his bare belly. I watch it rise and fall with his breath before moving it to the table, then take the blanket from the back of the couch and drape it over him.

He looks so peaceful and handsome; I take a minute to appreciate the way his eyelids flutter and I smile, tucking the blanket up to his chin.

Joe stirs and slowly opens his eyes. "Honey… you're home," he says, his voice groggy and entirely too adorable.

"Yes, I'm home. Go back to sleep." I turn away, but he reaches out and takes my hand. I give it an affectionate tap, but he doesn't let go.

"I don't want to sleep." He tugs on my arm gently. "Sit, talk to me."

With a sigh, I agree and sit down, sinking into the dip of his waist.

"How was the date?"

I doubt he really wants to know, but I answer anyway. "It was good. He's nice. Funny."

"And will there be a second date?"

I shrug, noticing how he traces the curve of my palm with his thumb. "I think so."

He presses his lips together and drops my hand. "I can't do this."

Hurt that he can't even show me affection, my stomach cramps. I lower my head, tucking my abandoned hand into my lap.

"I understand. You don't need to pretend."

"Pretend?" He sits up and frames my face with his hands, searching my eyes. "That's not what I meant. I meant I can't stand us not being together."

The intensity of his gaze knocks the wind out of me. "But we agreed this was platonic."

"I know what we agreed, but I can't lie. All day I've been obsessing over you being out with that guy. And it bugs me so much because I don't want to share you. With anyone. I don't want us to make rules."

"Joe, we're roommates. We can't?—"

His mouth crashes against mine, cutting me off, and his tongue slides over my lips without waiting for permission. But I give it all too willingly. I taste the tang of tonic, the botanical sweetness of gin.

He slides a hand behind my neck, pulling me closer, until I'm pressed against his warm, smooth, naked chest. I know I should fight him off and stop this from heading where it's heading, especially when I'm pretty sure he's not even sober. And yet, I have no control over my hands as they slide up his solid arms, feeling the strength of his strong biceps, the way his muscles cord beneath my touch.

With a deep, surrendering exhale, I push him until he's lying back and I straddle his hips. His hands slide under my skirt where he palms my ass, squeezing with a moan as he kneads my flesh. I lower to kiss him, my lips traveling from his mouth over the sharp edge of his jaw and down his thick neck.

Beneath me, he grows hard, and I rock my hips, watching his eyes squeeze shut.

"Maybe you should go to sleep after all," I tease, whispering into his ear.

"I'm not tired."

"But maybe a little drunk?"

His eyes snap open, locking with mine. "I'm not drunk." His grip shifts to my thighs, his fingers digging into my skin, pressing me down. It doesn't hurt, but I sense his urgency, his need to have me close. "I want this. Don't you?"

JOE

The pressure of her sitting on my lap, of my hips clutched between her thighs, lulls me into a state of deep relaxation.

"But maybe a little drunk?" she asks, and I realize my eyes are closed.

I throw them open. "I'm not drunk."

What felt like hours of sleep might have only been a few minutes. I know she can taste the gin rolling around my taste buds, but my brain is sharp, clear and I am positive I want to sleep with Jane tonight. But there's caution in her eyes. A wariness I can't stand.

"I want this. Don't you?"

"I do," she replies, her voice shaky. "I'm just worried we'll regret it in the morning."

The mounting pressure in my chest slowly fades, and my mouth lifts into a smile. I run my fingers through her hair, then cradle her face. She's wearing makeup, something I've never seen her do, and when I remember why she's wearing it, my heart aches. It wasn't for me; it was for FedEx guy.

Jealousy engulfs my entire body, but I remind myself that I told her we weren't a thing; this was casual. I belittled what we had until she was practically running for the door. And of course, she's allowed to date. Only, I'm the idiot who shouldn't have let her go.

I drop my hands. "You're right," I say, and watch disappointment shadow her features.

She shifts and rolls off of me. Fixing her skirt, she adds, "So, we're good then?"

"Yeah, we're good." I nod and sit up, crossing my arms at my waist. The pain beneath my ribs stabs me from the inside out, making me queasy.

Jane doesn't move, and though I don't lift my head, I can feel her staring.

"We're good, Jane," I insist. "Go to bed."

Still, she doesn't budge. Her naked feet remain stuck to the ground. She's painted her toes a sexy, coral pink color and I'm struck by the urge to suck on them. And I've never wanted to suck on anyone's toes before.

"Jane, please go to bed," I snap, standing so we're face to face, or rather, her face is level with my chest. She peels her gaze up, painting me with her dark, wet eyes framed by thick lashes. "Don't look at me that way."

"What way?"

"Like your cat just died. You and I both know this is for the best."

She inhales, nibbling on her lower lip. "You're right. I know you're right, but…"

She tucks her fingers into her palms, wrenching her hands.

"But what?"

"Simon wasn't that great."

"Who's Simon?"

"The FedEx guy," she says, smiling.

"Oh. He wasn't?" Somehow my fingers gravitate to her hand, tracing the grooves of her knuckles.

"No, he wasn't. I had fun," she begins, her fingers lacing through mine. "But only because I kept imagining I was with you."

"Jane…" I say in warning, looking down at our interlocked hands.

"I can't help it, Joe. Don't you think we should get it out of our system and then call it quits?"

"You think that'll work?" I ask with a laugh, pinching her chin, forcing her to meet my eyes.

She licks her lip, torturing me with that sexy swipe of her tongue. "I think so."

I crouch down, gripping her shoulders. "And what if it doesn't go as planned?"

"I guess we won't know if we don't try."

Our foreheads meet, and we release heavy sighs at the same time.

"That's the problem. If I try, if we start this…" I pull back, meeting her volcanic gaze that sends blood rushing through my veins and destroys any intelligent thought. "I won't be able to stop."

A small whimper rolls over her lips. "Then don't stop."

I tuck my hands under Jane's ass, lifting her, and she wraps her legs around my waist. She grips the back of my neck, her fingernails digging into my skin. We stumble around the room, claiming each other's mouths with sloppy kisses and smash against the wall.

"Joe? I need you inside me."

I grin against her sensual mouth. "That's my girl."

If I could, I'd fuck her right here against the wall, but I carry her to my room because that's where I keep the condoms.

I lay her down on my bed, her dark hair fanning over my pillow like a chocolate halo of curls I can't wait to run my fingers through and tug.

She's nervous. She keeps blinking, breathing fast and clutches the blanket. I cover her body with mine, realizing I feel the same way. This inevitability has been brewing between us for so long, but I still feel unprepared, as if this is the biggest step I've ever taken.

I peel her dress off, then undo her bra, pressing my face between her naked breasts and inhale her sweet scent. Her fingers rake through my hair, massaging my scalp, then she urges me to move lower, which I do, showering her stomach with kisses as I remove her panties.

Throwing them to the side, I pause for a few seconds to take in the sight of her stunning naked body on my bed. Her knees are bent slightly, and her hands rest on her lower stomach.

"Stop staring at me like that," she says with a lighthearted giggle.

I shake my head. "How else am I supposed to look at you? You're gorgeous."

She rolls her eyes. "Look who's talking."

I wink and peel my pants off. She reaches out, gripping my waist, and pulls me down on top of her once more.

Our lips meet unhurriedly, as I discover what makes her tick, what makes her rock her hips and causes her to make those angelic sounds that spill from her plump pink lips.

From my bedside table, I pull out a condom and rip the wrapper with my teeth. It's strange, but my hands shake when I sheathe myself, something that's never happened before. Desperate to ignore the unsteady beating of my heart, I clear my throat.

As if sensing this, Jane presses a hand to my cheek, and I lean into her touch. The light in her eyes matches her smile and melts my worries, bringing me back to the moment.

Settling myself between her legs, I search her gaze for a sign that this is a horrible idea. But what I find is acceptance and deep arousal.

Jane wraps her arms around me, her fingertips tickling the base of my neck, sending shivers of ecstasy along my spine.

How can something so uncomplicated make me feel so… wanted? Like I don't belong anywhere else but in her arms?

With a slow tilt of my hips, I sink into her, deep, and watch her face transform when she drops her head back. I pull out, then fill her again, this time harder. She whimpers and bites her lip.

"Are you okay?" I ask, suddenly obsessed with everything she's experiencing.

She gazes up at me, her soft eyes glittering in the low light, and smiles. "I've never been better."

JANE

Rock hard. I was right—Joe's ass is like stone. Firm with very little give.

I rest the heels of my feet on his cheeks as if planting them on a table. All right, maybe it's not that firm, but firm enough that when I dig my feet into his ass, silently telling him to go harder, to thrust deeper, he doesn't seem to mind the prodding and responds as requested.

I tuck my bent knees beneath his arms, letting Joe bury his cock deep inside me.

His dark brow remains creased the entire time, his eyes turning the color of whisky.

His five o'clock bristle scratches every surface of me—my cheeks, my mouth, my neck, my breasts—but the prickly sensation only adds to the perfection of this moment. Our hands wander, gripping, pinching, caressing.

Joe's a grunter, much louder than I expected, but every sound he makes has me tightening around his cock and I'm so here for it.

"Fuck, Jane. You're so tight."

I giggle, earning his smile.

"This is funny to you?" he asks.

"Not at all."

He pulls back, assessing me. "I'll need to figure out a way to wipe that smirk off your face, then."

I arch a brow. "Is that a promise?"

Another grunt as he flips us over so that I'm on top. He crosses his arms behind his head. "Ride me, honey."

The devilish challenge in his cognac eyes causes my hips to rock back and forth, and dig my fingers into his chest. He watches me, his eyes darkening when my nails push into his skin, then he cups my breasts, rolling my nipples between his fingers. The slight pinch of his touch, the fullness I feel as I slide down his shaft, stokes a fire deep inside. My eyes water and my head falls back, pushing my chest into his palms. I let the months of sexual frustration, the teasing, the bickering, consume me and I give in to the rippling pleasure surging through my blood.

This might only be a onetime thing, but I ignore the sad possibility, and focus on what's happening now.

"Jane. Come back to me," he says, reeling in my wandering thoughts.

He slides a hand to my neck, resting his thumb against my pulse, while his other hand grips my hip, pressing me down. Gathering me into his arms, he clutches me to his body and we move together, in perfect sync.

We're warm, sweaty skin.

We're on fire.

My limbs tense. Primal, thunderous explosions rupture throughout my body.

"Joe, I'm… I'm…"

"That's it, honey. Come for me." His lips are at my ear. "Come hard."

The deep rumble of his voice stirs everything inside me. My nerve endings shatter, sending flickering heat up my spine and everywhere else. Held in his strong embrace, pressed against him, I'm powerless, unable to escape, and succumb to my pleasure, letting it wash over me like a glorious, billowing piece of satin.

Whimpering the last bursts of my orgasm, I feel Joe tense. With a long, sexy groan, he thrusts one last time, then stills, the sounds of his orgasm tickling my ear along with his warm breath.

Shallow and fast, his breathing matches mine, and we lie connected, our hearts hammering, our skin wet, but he doesn't release me. I should roll away, to cool down, to go shower, but my body refuses to move, refuses to be freed from this blissful prison.

His hands travel down my back to palm my ass, and I snicker when I notice how they cover each cheek perfectly.

"There you go again with the laughing," he says.

But this time I can't stop. The giggles take over and I don't even know why I'm laughing, but Joe joins in.

The release is cathartic, like freedom. But that's not enough to describe it.

We hold each other, our bodies cooling down and our laughs slowly fading, and I let the feeling spread through me as I finally accept what this is.