by A. J. Pine
I grab a couple of the pillows from the floor and help him to my room and onto the bed, sitting on the edge beside him. Though he’s in nothing but his pants now, there is the issue of the brace and getting him out of said pants.
As if reading my mind, he looks at his leg and then back at me. “I have to put it back on for . . .” He laughs quietly to himself. “You’re about to witness a whole lot of sexy looking at me in the buff, leg in a brace. Have you prepared yourself for this?”
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t give me that cocky bullshit you pull on the nurses at the hospital.”
He cups my cheek and kisses me. “Am I that transparent?”
I nod but give him a reassuring smile. “That you could even worry about me seeing you as anything other than the beautiful, amazing guy that I love?” I kiss him this time. “Just makes you sexier.”
He leans back against the pillows, and I help him swing his legs onto the bed—not without eliciting a hiss of pain.
“How about that?” he asks, his voice strained. “Still sexy?”
I unbutton and unzip his pants.
“And charming,” I say. He raises his brows, so I stand and slide my boy shorts down my legs and to the floor. “See? You just charmed the pants off me.”
He laughs, but it’s a hoarse, throaty sound.
“Can you help do the same for me?” he asks, and I nod.
Together we get him carefully out of the brace as well as his pants and briefs. Once the brace is back on his knee, I stare at him, bare and beautiful in my bed.
“Definitely still sexy,” I say, and I crawl over him so I lie on his left side with my head next to his.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, kissing my forehead and running his fingertips across my hairline. “I just hate that our first time since . . . everything is with me here like this.”
I take his hand and place it on my breast and watch him break into a smile.
“There’s a lot we can do with you here like this,” I say.
He gives my nipple a light pinch, and I squirm. I lay my palm over the back of his and guide his hand down my torso, over my stomach and between my legs.
“You mean like this?” he asks as he slides two fingers inside me with such ease that I’m almost embarrassed how ready I am for him. Almost.
“Shit,” he whispers, and then his lips are on mine. There is no hesitation, no pretense. Just long, slow, kisses that seem to deepen each time his fingers skim out and back in again. And as much as I want to let him keep doing what he’s doing until I burst at the seams, I need him to know how different tonight is, and it’s not because of his limited range of motion.
I ease his hand up from the spot I wish it never had to leave, not able to suppress a small whimper.
“Are you okay?” he asks, and I rise up to my knees, straddling him above his still untouched erection. This is it, the final bridge across the gap.
I ease down onto his length, careful not to let him enter me—not yet. But he takes in a sharp breath just the same, seeming to hold it while he waits for me to speak.
“There is nothing about what happened to me last year that has a silver lining,” I say. “I will never be able to see it that way.” He nods, but I know he isn’t following. “But maybe being with you like this will help.”
He cups my cheek, and I lean into it because he understands now and because I love him and want to let him—to let us—play a part in my healing.
“I don’t know what to say,” he says, and I kiss his palm.
“Say you love me.”
He nods and brushes his thumb across my lips.
“I love you,” he says, his brown eyes dark and intent. “You brought me back to life.”
He swipes at a tear on my cheek.
“And you brought me back to hope,” I tell him, my voice breaking on the last word as I lower myself so we’re chest to chest.
He licks the salt from my lips as his palms grip my thighs, sliding me up just enough so he can nudge me open and bury himself inside. I let out a soft cry, and he answers it with a kiss so tender and yet so full of need.
“No more distance,” he says, and I nod.
“No more distance.” We lie that way for several minutes, folded around each other, kissing, breathing, trusting. There is no rush, or fear, or anything left unsaid. There’s just us, for tonight . . . and all the other nights to come.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
This book, guys. This is the one that connected me with some really wonderful people who helped bring Adam and Jess’s story to readers and who make my life a happy place simply because they are in it. Natalie Blitt (my sexy vampire) and Megan Erickson (my pocket-sized friend)—it’s because of One Night that I have you two in my life now, first as critique partners and so soon after as two of the best friends a girl could ask for. I’m grateful for your editorial expertise, for calling me on FTB scenes that so should not be FTB, for letting me be one of the first to read your amazing words, and for making me laugh every single day. I love you.
Courtney Miller-Callihan, agent extraordinaire, thank you for falling in love with Jess and Adam’s story, for finding them the perfect home, and for just being a lovely person to hang with and eat beignets. Looking forward to many more writing adventures with you!
To my fabulous editor, Leis Pederson, thank you for giving Jess and Adam a home at InterMix and for having the perfect vision for the book I wanted One Night to be.
I knew I wanted Adam to be a basketball star, and I have Lex Martin to thank for helping me sound like I knew a bit about the sport while describing Adam’s games. The pick and roll cupcake scene would have been lacking without your expert knowledge.
Lia Riley and Jen Blackwood, I can always count on you two not only for the occasional confidence boost and editing help, but also to assure me that my Arrow obsession is healthy and something I should constantly nourish. I am grateful for your friendship.
To the amazing people in Our So-Called Group, you are a daily source of smiles and support. Thank you for hanging with us, for helping spread the word about our books, and for also encouraging my Arrow obsession.
As always, I need to thank my family for their patience and for understanding that even though I love my work, that writing is, in fact, work. And sometimes I need to hide myself away to get it done. I couldn’t do what I love to do without your support.
Thank you, readers. You’re the reason I get to live this crazy dream.
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Look for A. J. Pine’s next book, ONE LIFE, in October 2015!
A. J. Pine writes stories to break readers’ hearts, but don’t worry—she’ll mend them with a happily ever after. As an English teacher and a librarian, A. J. has always surrounded herself with books. All her favorites have one big commonality—kissing. Lots of kissing. Naturally, her books have the same. When she’s not writing, she’s of course reading. Then there’s online shopping (everything from groceries to shoes) and, of course, a tiny bit of TV where she nourishes her undying love of vampires, from Eric Northman to the Salvatore brothers. And in the midst of all of this, you’ll also find her hanging with her family in the Chicago burbs.
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