Naked Love(95)

Seth takes the plate from Jake and runs it out front.

Rejection sucks. Would he reject Mo … or perky little Aspen?

And the only thing that sucks worse than rejection is jealousy.

“K.” I smile like it’s no big deal. Like I’m not embarrassed for suggesting it. Then I pivot and make my way up the stairs to get my purse and get the hell out of here before I say or do anything else that’s impulsive and stupid.

As I grab my purse, the door slams behind me. I turn. Before I can take a single breath, Jake’s hands frame my face and his mouth crashes against mine.

It’s all consuming.

It burns through my skin as we stumble to the bed, clawing and tearing at each other’s clothes.

I moan as his tongue circles my nipple. My impatient hands tug down his jeans and boxer briefs. He attacks my mouth again, easing us to the bed.

It’s slow and methodic, yet every stroke is deliberate and perfectly timed. Guiding my knees to my chest, he pushes into me.

Thoughts vanish.

Toes curl.

My torso twists and jerks.

There. He’s the best at finding my “there.”

He’s the best at bending me to his will.

He’s the best at prolonging this feeling—finding the edge and keeping me there.

It’s torture. God … I love his kind of torture.

“I love you, Ave,” he whispers in my ear as he pulls my hair gently, reentering me from behind while my body trembles on all fours.

Within seconds, I’m there. Mystical, magical there. I’ve fallen off the edge. I’ve arrived. Collapsing onto the bed, my face buried into the pillow, Jake grips my hips and slams into me three more times, my name a guttural moan from his lips.

His sweaty body falls onto mine, his chest to my back, his labored breaths warm against my ear.

“Sorry for disrupting your breakfast rush,” I mumble into the pillow while turning my head to the side. My lungs can’t find oxygen with his dead weight blanketing me.

“No, you’re not.” He rolls off me and smacks my ass.

I giggle as he pulls me to his chest, our legs scissoring together. “I’m really not. Thank you for the note and the lavender.” Tipping my chin up, I smile at him. My fingers trace the lines of his chest and the ink that covers it.

He stares at me with a serious look for several moments before submitting to a tiny smile. “Was this your idea of going slow? Felt fast to me. We could try it again … only slower.”

This pang in my heart keeps me from fully appreciating his humor. What are we doing? Really … we couldn’t be more opposite. “Do you think what we have is what two people on a stranded island feel? Do you think we ended up in bed together for a lack of a better choice? And now that we’ve rejoined reality, do you think regret will set in?”

“I’m no longer your first choice?” He messes with a few strands of my hair, focusing on them instead of holding my gaze.

“I’m not talking about me. I just said ‘we’ so you wouldn’t feel like I was specifically talking about you. But now that you’re questioning me, I’ll admit … I’m talking about you.”

“You don’t think you’re my first choice?” His eyes meet my gaze again.

“I think you know I’m not as bad at sex as what you originally assumed.”

We grin.

“But I also think Deedy marrying my dad connects us, and maybe that connection feels hard for you to break. What if your loyalty to Deedy is what’s really keeping you tied to me?”

His lips twist as he scratches his head, tugging a bit at his messy, blond hair. “That would be tragic.”

“You’re making fun. Not nice.” I push away.

He grabs my waist just as my feet touch the floor at the side of the bed. “It was a road trip.” He kisses my neck. “The truck didn’t break down. We weren’t stranded. We weren’t even away from what I assume you’re referring to as ‘reality’ for very long. I wasn’t sex starved and desperate. You weren’t an impulse. What I feel for you right now—with a world of other choices—is real. I want you.”

My next breath holds back the tears. I want to be strong—not for Jake. I want to be strong for me. “I like to shop. And I like impractical shoes and manicured hands and feet.”

“I know.” He chuckles, kissing my neck again.

“And I have a past. A past dotted with moments and decisions I’m not proud of. But … it’s made me the person I am right now. So if you want me, then you have to—”

“Love you as a whole. Not the parts I find most attractive. I have to love you—all of you.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “I think you going back to Milwaukee is good timing. I need to get a better job and a place of my own to live. You need to spend time with your friends. Maybe when you have Mo at your place and I’m halfway across the country, you’ll have a better perspective of your feelings for me.”

His grip around my waist stiffens. His whole body pressed to my back goes rigid.

I twist around to look at him. Jake releases me and sits back against the wood headboard, covering his midsection with a pillow.

“What?” I pull the sheet to my chest … since we’re apparently covering up now. “Why do you have that look—that constipated look?”