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19. Ian

19

IAN

“Lovers, to bed!” Act V, Scene I

She kisses me like this is the kiss that might save her, like I might save her, and I would if I could. I’d give her my own life vest, put her oxygen mask on before mine; I’d face every single one of my fears if it meant she could feel safe.

But this is the best I can do for now, pouring my entire self into this kiss. Saying all the things I haven’t had the courage to say out loud.

I want you. I need you. I think I’m falling for you.

I let my hands do the talking, roaming her body under her sweatshirt. Savoring her soft skin against my hands. It’s not enough access, though, so I remove it—one less barrier keeping me from being as close to her as I’m craving. I dip my head to her neck, her collarbone, her chest, and then slip off her sports bra, worshipping her with my mouth, kissing every inch of her skin that I have access to. And when I run out of access, when I get to the waistband of her leggings, I pause, looking up at her.

She runs her fingers through my hair, and a wave of longing rolls through me. “What are you doing?” she asks, a faint smile dancing on her lips.

“Taking care of you,” I say, but I hesitate before moving forward.

“We won’t get caught?” I ask, needing the assurance.

The idea of getting caught was sexy in the stage manager’s booth, but less sexy now, and I’m tempted to ask her to go somewhere more private, but I’m desperate for her, and I don’t want to wait. I want to take her right here on the kitchen counter.

Jade shakes her head. “Bear tranquilizer, remember? Plus, you already know I know how to be quiet.”

With that assurance, she lifts her hips for me as I remove her leggings, discarding them on the kitchen floor. Call it the male instinct or some misguided desire, but for the past twenty-four hours, nothing has been so important to me as taking care of her. This moment is no different. I want her to feel cherished; to feel how deep my desire for her goes; to feel like her pleasure matters.

“Can I ask you something?” she asks, her voice thick with longing.

“Mhm,” I murmur against her skin as I press a soft but insistent kiss against her hip bone.

“Why are you trying to take care of me?”

“Because you deserve it,” I say, stroking a finger over the fabric of her lacy underwear. I could have taken them off, but I like the look of the black lace against her bare skin. I like knowing she wore these just for me. She shudders under my touch, a noise escaping her throat that would drive any man to the edge.

I kneel in front of the kitchen counter, her legs draped over my shoulders, positioning myself squarely in front of her pussy, which is glistening just for me. I exercise a heroic amount of self-control not to devour her right this second. Instead I hold her thighs open, placing a soft kiss on the inside of one and then the other.

She whimpers, her back arching, trying to push herself toward me, but I don’t give her what she wants just yet.

“You spend so much energy taking care of yourself . . .” I say and brush my mouth against her wet, swollen lips. I want to feel her quake against my hands; to hear her say my name while I guide her to her orgasm; to feel her finish knowing I was the sole reason for her pleasure.

She groans, her fingers gripping my hair.

“And now it’s my turn.”

I give her what she wants then, as it’s really what we both want. But tasting her does nothing to satisfy my hunger for her; it only makes me insatiable. Like a vampire taking its first feed, I don’t even feel in control of myself.

She moves against me, grinding herself against my chin, my mouth. She digs her heels into my back and I tighten my grip on her thighs just to ground myself—to keep myself from consuming her entirely.

Every noise she makes burrows its way under my skin, imprinting on me. I drag it out for as long as I can, savoring the taste of her on my lips and the sound of my name on hers.

Her pleasure stamps itself onto my brain, altering my chemistry, forever changing me into a man who exists only to bring this kind of gratification to this woman.

I stop when she asks but not a second before. After she’s made noises muffled against her own hand that I will dream about tonight and every night to come for months. Years.

Only when she pushes my head away as I try to go back for more do I get off my knees and stand between her legs where she’s sprawled out on the counter, still catching her breath. I’m completely consumed by her, unable to keep myself from running my hands over her body, rolling her nipples between my fingers for the sheer delight of it, planting soft kisses along her stomach, her chest, her hips—any skin I can find. I’ve never felt a wanting that burned as hot as this. It’s a wildfire inside of me, unquenchable and nearly out of control.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” I say between kisses.

“Was that your first time doing that?” she asks, out of breath, a touch of wonder in her voice.

“No.” I chuckle against her skin.

She weaves her fingers in my hair again, moving me as she sits up.

“You made it difficult to be quiet,” she says and hauls me toward her for a kiss.

With the taste of her still on my lips, she kisses me—tongue, teeth, lips, and a hunger for me that I thought I might have depleted her of, but she seems to have endless reserves. And thank god, because I don’t think I’m done. I want more. I want everything she’ll give me.

“You did a very good job. Perhaps I should reward you,” I whisper and slip my knuckle over her clit. She inhales a sharp breath, sinking her teeth into my shoulder.

Jade reaches for my jeans, unbuttoning and unzipping them before I have a chance to help or do it myself. She expertly moves the fabric of my boxers, and by the time her hand is wrapped around my length, I haven’t had a chance to protest and tell her what I really want to do. But the way she’s moving her hand makes it difficult to remember any words I know, much less the ones I want to say.

I’ve been touched like this before—a soft hand stroking me, pleasure building inside of me until all the tension breaks. But this touch, her touch . . . it’s like I’ve been holding my breath underwater and I just broke the surface. It’s deep gulps of fresh air in my lungs, and I am so glad I didn’t die before I felt her hands on me.

Her touch is so satisfying that it’s only going to take me about five more seconds to get to the end of this. I clutch at the countertop, at her, my fingers leaving indents in her bare thigh. My breathing feels out of control. I feel like I might catch fire or explode into a thousand pieces.

“Jade,” I pant. “Please, I-I want you.”

“I’m right here,” she whispers, her mouth right next to my ear. She drags her teeth along my neck, licking and kissing in a way that only serves to bring me closer to the end.

“No, I . . . I want to be inside you,” I manage to say, and she stops, her hand still wrapped around me, eyes meeting mine with a question.

“You want to . . . Say that again,” she prompts as if she didn’t hear me right the first time.

“I want to have sex with you,” I say. My face heats. It feels like such a bold thing to say, but I don’t break eye contact. She needs to know how serious I am.

This is the point I never got to with anyone else. It never felt right. I never felt close enough to them. But with Jade . . . everything feels different. Like at any moment, lightning might strike us and we’ll shatter.

This is what it’s supposed to feel like.

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I’m not trying to pressure you.”

“I don’t feel pressured.”

She looks down at where her hand is on my dick and then back up at me, eyebrows raised, and holds her hands up as if in surrender.

“Okay, say it again,” she says.

“I’m serious. I don’t feel pressured,” I say through a chuckle. “I just . . . I don’t have any pro— Actually, I have some condoms in my car.”

She tilts her head, concern and curiosity crossing her features. “Do I want to know?”

“I have a feeling you do, and I promise to tell you,” I say. “Later.”

“I have an IUD,” she says. “And I’m STI-free. When was the last time you got tested?”

“After my last relationship. And I haven’t been intimate with anyone since.”

“If you’re comfortable going without . . .” Jade trails off.

“I am if you are too?”

“Yes,” Jade says, a ghost of a smile on her lips.

She brushes her lips against mine and maneuvers me so she can hop off the kitchen counter. She nods her head toward the living room, and I follow her as she discards her panties, dropping them unselfconsciously to the floor. I discard my clothes as I walk too, leaving them on the floor where I take them off.

She stops at the couch and turns back toward me, holding her arms out to the couch with a flourish like a game show host.

Seeing her fully naked, as dimly lit as the living room is, is as powerful as I thought it would be. Jade isn’t shy about her body. The way she carries herself has always communicated that, but to stand in front of me the way she is, it’s her confidence I notice. I notice everything else too—her curves and every perfect inch of her body. I’m aching to touch her.

“You are unreal,” I tell her as I approach her, reaching out to take her hips in my hands and pulling her against me so I can kiss her.

She smiles against my mouth, and I can’t decide if I want to keep kissing her or stop so I can see her smile.

Jade decides for me, breaking the kiss and placing her hands on my arms. She guides me to the couch, and I sit. The fabric of the couch is scratchy against my skin. I almost mention her mom again, but remind myself that Jade assured me she won’t wake for anything. I have a sneaking suspicion this isn’t Jade’s first living room hookup. But thinking about who else Jade has been with is not where I want my mind to be right now.

As Jade climbs onto my lap, I explore every curve and inch of her, sliding my hands over her soft skin, letting the feel of her bring me fully into this moment.

“Are you sure you want this?” she asks.

I cup the back of her head in my hands. “Yes,” I say and kiss her in a way that I hope assures her I want this more than my “yes” is able to convey.

Without breaking our kiss, she maneuvers both of us into the right position.

And then the most incredible of sensations hits me. It takes me no time at all to realize what the hype is all about; to realize what I’ve been missing out on. Jade does all the work, and I’m glad for it, because all I can focus on is the way she feels moving on me, the way her skin feels under my hands, and the sensation building inside of me. I hold onto her hips, trying to slow her down. Trying to slow this moment down. Trying to stop time, because there’s something happening between Jade and me that I can’t name, but it’s on the tip of my tongue.

It’s more than a physical connection; it’s some intangible thing I could spend my life trying to find a word for and I’d always come up empty.

Jade cups my face in her hands, and when her lips touch mine, I lose all sense of myself. My mind slips off to some unknown space, and all I am is the hands that graze her hips, the mouth that claims hers, the jasmine scent of her, the sounds of pleasure she makes right into my ear, and the way she moves on me, up and down, slow and intentional. A pressure inside of me builds, and I want to resist it, to fight the urge and draw this out for hours, days, weeks, but it’s too much. My heart races, waves of pleasure building inside of me, racing me toward the inevitable end. So many things take me right to the edge, but it’s my name on Jade’s lips that puts me over.

I cling to her, eyes closed, as my release comes, a warmth spreading through every limb of my body, weighing me down with a euphoric heaviness—the most pleasant and relaxing feeling I might have felt, ever.

When I open my eyes, Jade is smiling too, the both of us trying to catch our breath.

“Oh my god,” I say.

“How was it?” Jade asks, her voice a near whisper. It’s a stark reminder of exactly where we are.

“How was it? Jade, I’m not a religious man, but I know a spiritual experience when I have one.”

Jade’s laughter vibrates through me, and when she climbs off my lap, I feel a little disappointed the whole experience is over. But one thing is for sure: Seth was dead wrong about sex not being special. What Jade and I just did was fucking magic. If that’s not special, someone needs to redefine the word for me.

Jade helps me get cleaned off, and we take the time to give the kitchen countertop a quick clean and then shower before crawling into bed. We lie facing each other. The moon is a little brighter tonight, offering me just enough light to make out Jade’s features.

“I know this is going to sound really silly, but thank you for trusting me with this,” Jade says. “Your first time can be a little nerve-racking, and I don’t take it lightly.”

“I’m glad it was you,” I say.

“I thought you wanted it to be special,” she says, teasing.

“It was,” I say, and I’m not joking. “Because it was with you.”

It’s cheesy, but I mean it. Two months ago, the idea of this would have been laughable, but I don’t have any regrets. Jade has been a safe person for me since the day we had that failed attempt at a hookup. I’m more myself with her than I am with anyone else.

But I wasn’t the only participant in this. I wanted her to enjoy everything we did tonight as much as I did.

“What about for you?” I ask. “Was it okay for you? I won’t be offended. Be honest.”

“It was.” Her voice is soft but serious. “It was different. It’s never been . . . like that.”

I make a noise of acknowledgment. I know what she means in a way. Even with the other things we did, I’ve never felt like that with anyone else. And now I know she felt it too, even if she didn’t say it outright. She said it in her own way. Connections like this aren’t one-sided. We’ve both been feeling this thing building for weeks. This was the only thing we could do with all the pent-up emotion.

Jade turns over, nestling her back against my chest. “I would say our chemistry is, like, a ten out of ten,” she says, her voice lighter now.

“Take that, Anastasia,” I say.

She’s joking to shift the tone away from the deep stuff, and I don’t push to change the subject back. She’s been more vulnerable with me in the past two days than she has in the past two months, and I know this isn’t her comfort zone.

She’s calling it chemistry, but I know what it is. The word I was looking for came to me in the shower. It still doesn’t feel like enough, but it’s the only container for the connection Jade and I shared tonight. It’s the only word big enough to hold all the thousand good and beautiful things I feel for Jade McKinney.

But I’m not brave enough to say it yet—not while I know she’s awake and listening. Not while there’s a chance she could still reject me for saying it. So I wait her out. I wait until her breathing starts to even and I’m confident she’s asleep, then I tuck her close to me, placing a soft kiss on the back of her shoulder.

“Good night, Jade,” I say. “I love you.”