by Noelle Adams
I’m feeling so good—so stupidly giddy—that I hide my face against his shoulder and giggle some more.
“You’re seriously laughing at me?” he asks dryly.
“No, I’m not laughing at you.” I look up at him with a smile that seems to burst out of me. “I’m happy.”
“Oh. Good. I’m happy too.” He runs his fingers down my hair again, holding the end of it for a moment before he releases it. “But it’s not going to take much to get me too excited since I wasn’t mentally prepared for this tonight. So I think I better leave. We can take this as slow as you want. You set the pace. You tell me what you want.”
I nod, filled with both excitement and affection and having trouble holding it back. “Thank you.”
He leans over to give me a quick kiss. “Thank you.”
He’s leaving. As he goes, I see his mussed hair, his wrinkled shirt, his broad shoulders, his familiar profile.
He’s made it down the hall and halfway through the living room when I can’t hold myself back. I run after him, catching him before he reaches the door and grabbing his arm.
He turns around. “What’s the matter?”
“Don’t go.”
“But I explained... I’m not sure I can...”
“You don’t have to hold back. I don’t want you to. I want you too, Jeremy. I didn’t know it until right now, but I do. So please...” I gulp, realizing for the first time exactly what I’m doing. “Please don’t go.”
His breath hitches audibly. He turns very slowly to face me. “Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”
I nod. “That’s what I’m saying. I don’t want you to leave. Maybe it would be smarter to take it slow, but I’ve never been any good at controlling my heart. I love you, Jeremy. That was the best kiss I’ve ever had in my life. I want to spend the night with you.”
Six
I’VE KNOWN JEREMY FOR more than twelve years, and one of the things I know best about him is that he prepares himself for disappointment. He expects it, and he makes choices based on that expectation. I’ve never blamed him for it. I can’t imagine anyone with his upbringing learning to live any other way.
No matter how hard he’s trying or how much he wants something, he’ll always assume disappointment is just around the corner.
He was expecting disappointment tonight. He was expecting rejection. And he was having trouble wrapping his mind around the fact that I didn’t tell him a flat-out no.
But this...
This is something else.
I’m not just not telling him no. I’m telling him yes when it’s the last thing he believed could happen.
I see the series of emotions pass over his face. Confusion. Shock. Uncertainty. Hope. Surprise. Hope. Disbelief. Hope. Joy.
Hope.
He doesn’t say a word. He barely even moves. But the muscles in his jaw twitch. The corners of his mouth rise and fall very slightly. And his eyes transform as he processes what I just told him.
Finally, after he swallows so hard I can see it in his throat, he breathes, “What?”
“You heard me.” I raise a hand to cup his cheek. “I want to spend the night with you.”
“But... but... we were going to take it slow.”
“I don’t want to take it slow. Maybe it’s smarter, but I’m not a smart person. I follow my heart. And everything in my heart is telling me to do this right now.” I lick my lips because they feel too dry. “So if that’s what you want too, then please stay.”
He makes a hoarse sound and grabs my head with both hands, pulling me toward him and then leaning down into a hard kiss.
It’s not sweet and questioning like the kiss we had. It’s hard and hungry and utterly thrilling. He’s devouring me. Drinking me in. I hold on and open my mouth to the advance of his tongue. My knees go so weak I would fall if I weren’t hanging on to him.
It’s not even a minute before we end up on the bed. I’m not sure how we got there. Maybe we fell over on it without ever breaking the kiss. But I’m on my back on top of the covers, and Jeremy has climbed on top of me. He’s kissing me just as hungrily as before, and the weight of his body is pressing down into me.
Nothing has ever felt so good. Or sexy. And somehow safe at the exact same time.
My head spins, and my blood pulses in my veins. The room—the whole world—is throbbing around me.
Because Jeremy Carson is kissing me.
The hard bulge of his arousal is pushing down into my belly. Every time he rocks it into me, my inner muscles clamp down. It’s not long before I’m clawing at his shirt, clumsily trying to get it off, get my hands on his bare skin again. He’s making soft, hungry sounds as he kisses me—like he’s so into it he can’t control his throat.
His lack of inhibitions makes it even hotter.
Our clothes are really getting in the way. My jeans feel too tight and my bra too restrictive. I want to get them off. I arch up and move my hands to fumble at the button of my jeans.
Jeremy’s lips make a delicious route down my neck before returning to my mouth. I’m so overwhelmed with sensation and emotion that I can’t focus enough to unzip my jeans. “Jeremy,” I mumble against his lips. “Jeremy, help me.”
“With what?” He takes my lower lip between his teeth lightly and tugs it, sending ripples of pleasure through my body.
I arch my neck and gasp. “My clothes need to come off, and I can’t do it myself.”
He chuckles and tucks his head down to suck on the pulse in my throat.
I clutch handfuls of the bedding and moan shamelessly. When I’ve caught my breath again, I say, “Jeremy, please. They’re annoying me.”
He raises his head and straightens up enough to get his hands on my jeans. He unzips them with swift intentionality, and I lift my hips to shimmy out.
But he doesn’t pull the denim down my legs. Instead, he braces himself above me and meets my eyes. “May.”
“What?” I squirm in aroused frustration. “I want my jeans off.”
“I know, but hold on a minute. Hold on.” His voice is different. He sounds serious.
I stop moving and gaze up at him, my lips parting just a little.
“I need to know for sure that you want this. That this is what you want.”
“I told you—”
“I know you want it right now. Obviously, I do too. But I don’t want you to get swept away and do something too quickly. I don’t want you to regret this afterward. I’m not sure I could live with that. So before we go any further, can you just tell me you’re sure? You’re really sure.”
I take a ragged breath, my heart aching at the seriousness, the sweetness of him. If I hadn’t been sure before, then there’s no question about it now. “I’m sure, Jeremy. I promise. I’m sure.”
His face relaxes with palpable relief, and he’s smiling as he adjusts his position and yanks my jeans down my legs. My panties come with them, but that’s an added bonus. Jeremy stares down at me, panting loudly, before he grabs the bottom of my sweater and pulls it off over my head.
I lift up to unhook my bra and toss it over the side of the bed when I get it off. “Now yours,” I say, smiling as I lay back on the bed.
Jeremy isn’t moving. He isn’t doing anything but looking down on me, his eyes moving up and down over my naked body.
“Hey,” I say after a minute. “I don’t want to be the only one naked here.”
“You’re... you’re...” His voice is no more than a rasp, and I’ve never seen anything like the ravenous intensity of his eyes as he leers at me.
“I’m what?” I’m pretty sure that whatever he’s going to say about my body is going to be good—if his face is any indication—but I want to hear what word he’s going to conclude with.
“I can’t even...” His flushed face is damp. He’s sexy as hell. “I can’t believe I get to see you like this.”
I reach up to stroke his bristly jaw. “Well, you do. And I’d like to see you too, if you don’t mind. So can you plea
se get naked now?”
He huffs in amusement and finally manages to move. He stands up to strip off his jeans and shirt. I’ve seen him shirtless before. He’s big with a broad chest and shoulders, but not perfectly toned. I love how he looks though. The dark scattering of hair on his chest. The not entirely flat belly. The masculine contours of his arms and abs.
He’s standing beside the bed, his fingers tucked under the waistband of his boxers. The outline of his erection is visible beneath the fabric. I wait eagerly for him to take off his underwear, but he doesn’t right away.
“What are you waiting for?” I ask.
He swallows. “You’re sure about this, May?”
“Yes, I’m sure.” I turn onto my side, propping up on one arm. “I’m sure, Jeremy. Stop stalling. I want to see you naked right now.”
He chuckles hoarsely and takes off his boxers. His eyes dart over to me as if checking for my reaction.
“That’s what I wanted,” I tell him with a smile, my heart pounding in excitement at the sight of his thick erection, the dark hair at his groin, the shape of his thighs. “Now get back over here so I can touch you.”
He laughs dryly, but I can tell he’s not as cool as he’s acting. He’s just as excited about this as I am, but he’s also a little bit nervous.
I’m nervous too—now that we’ve had a break from the intensity of our earlier making out—so his response makes me feel better.
He climbs back on the bed. “Do we need a condom?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m on birth control. We’re good.” I stroke my fingertips up and down the length of his penis, loving the way he groans in reaction.
He lets me caress and explore him for a couple of minutes, but then he pulls my hands away. “There are limits to the extent of my control when it comes to you, and I really don’t want to embarrass myself.”
“You wouldn’t have to be embarrassed. Not with me. Not about anything.” I hold his gaze for a long moment. Then I smile. “But since I’m going crazy over here, I wouldn’t mind if we move along to the next step.”
“And what’s the next step?” There’s a teasing glint in his eyes as he rolls onto his side.
“You tell me.”
He eases me onto my back, moving over me and kissing me again. It’s deep and intense and delicious, and eventually his mouth moves down my neck to my breasts. He fondles them until I’m writhing and gasping, and then he slides a hand between my legs. I’m very wet. Definitely ready for him.
He slides a finger inside me, and I arch up helplessly.
He’s smiling at my nipple. He definitely likes how I’m responding to him. He keeps suckling my breast as he adds a second finger and starts to pump.
I come in about two minutes, biting my lip over my groan of pleasure and shaking through the spasms.
He’s grinning as he climbs back up on my body, settling between my legs.
“What are you smirking about?” I ask him.
“Not smirking. Smiling.”
“That’s more than a regular smile. It’s just on the edge of a smirk. I didn’t know you were a smirker.”
“That’s because we’ve never had sex before.”
“So you smirk while you have sex?”
“I guess so.” His brown eyes are warm and fond. “I really can’t believe I just made you come.”
“Well, you did. And it was good. But now I want to feel you inside me. So I think you better get back to work.”
He chuckles as he shifts positions, pulls my thighs farther apart, and lines his erection up at my entrance. Both of us seem to be holding our breath as he slowly nudges.
I whimper and squirm at almost feeling him the way I want. “Jeremy. Don’t tease.”
He chuckles at my whine, but then his eyes meet mine. The mood shifts to something more serious, more intense.
“Please,” I breathe.
He moves his hips in a slow thrust, pushing inside me in a tantalizing sequence of pushes and readjustments.
When he’s all the way inside me, he holds still. He’s braced above me on bent arms. His face is only a few inches away from mine. His body is hot and tense.
And he’s inside me. Filling me. Big and tight and full.
Jeremy.
“Okay?” he asks hoarsely.
I try to nod, but my neck arches instead, my mouth falling open as pleasure and excitement wash over.
“Oh fuck, you’re so hot. Was that a yes?”
“Yes,” I manage to say. “It’s way better than okay. I had no idea...”
“No idea about what?” He adjusts some of his weight, and his erection shifts inside me, the slight friction creating shivers.
“No idea that it would feel this way. Feel this good.”
He releases a pent-up breath. “Thank God,” he murmurs before he kisses me.
The kiss is slow and deep, and he starts to move his hips as it continues. It’s nothing more than gentle rocking at first, but soon it starts to feel so good that I can’t concentrate on the kiss.
I jerk my head to the side and make a silly whimpering sound as a climax starts to coil below my belly.
“Okay?” he asks, brushing a few clumsy kisses on my cheeks and chin. The muscles of his shoulders and arms are very tight.
I bend up my knees on either side of his hips. “Way better than okay. I need it harder. Jeremy, please. Harder.”
He readjusts yet again, this time lifting his upper body higher and grabbing hold of one of my thighs. He speeds up his rhythm, his force increasing at the same time. I cry out in relief as I pump my hips to match his rhythm.
Soon my whole body is shaking, and so is the bed. He’s taking me fast and hard, and the jiggling of my breasts and my clit is really working for me. I’m making sobbing sounds as my climax rises, the sound matched by Jeremy’s primitive grunts.
He’s just as into this as I am. He’s let himself go. He wants to be with me this way, take me this way, feel me this way.
For so many years, I had no idea what I was missing.
On the cusp of an orgasm, I arch up dramatically, the tension freezing just before it releases. I cry out loudly as I fall over the edge. He’s thrusting hard and fast, and he doesn’t stop as my inner muscles clamp down hard around him.
He keeps going for a minute as I come down, and my mind is clear enough to watch when he finally lets go too.
He makes a loud, helpless sound as his face transforms in a rush of pleasure. He rocks through the spasms of his release. He comes inside me with several hard spurts. Then all the tension drains out of him and he collapses on top of me.
I wrap my arms around him. Hold him close. He’s hot and heavy and relaxed and real. Human.
Jeremy.
I start to shake as emotion rises from my chest to my throat.
“Oh shit, are you crying?” Jeremy rasps against my ear. He raises his head to look.
I sniff and scowl at him. “Of course not.”
He swipes away a tear. “You shouldn’t lie to me when the evidence is right in front of my eyes.” He’s half smiling, but I see a glint of worry in his eyes.
I beam up at him, even as a couple more tears leak out. “I’m happy. I can’t help it. I cry when I’m happy.”
He lets out a loud exhale and kisses me tenderly. “That’s okay then. Cry all you want.” He relaxes above me, his head tucked in the crook of my neck.
It’s a minute before I hear him whisper in what’s barely a breath. “I’m happy too.”
JEREMY AND I FALL ASLEEP together, and I don’t wake up until the bed starts to move as he gets up. I blink in confusion at the dark room. I know that it’s Jeremy beside me. I know what we did last night. But I have no idea what time it is or what’s happening right now.
I try to put my question into words, but it comes out as nothing more than a wordless mumble.
“I’m sorry,” Jeremy murmurs. He’s sitting up now on the far edge of the bed. “I was trying not to wake you up.�
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“What time is’t?” I roll over toward him and reach to grab his thigh. My mind might not be working on all cylinders, but I know for sure I don’t want him to leave.
He rubs my hand where it’s holding on to him and then lifts it to clasp in his. “It’s just after four.”
“Why are you leaving me?” I tuck my free hand into the waistband of his boxers and pull. “Come back to bed.”
“I’m sorry. I would, but I’m worried about Leo. He’s been by himself for ages now.”
I’d completely forgotten about Jeremy’s sweet dog. “Oh no. Poor little guy. I should have thought about him.”
“Me too. So I’m going to go home, let him out, and make sure he’s okay.” Jeremy lifts my hand and brushes a light kiss against the knuckles. “I’m not running out on you. I promise.”
“Okay. But then bring him back over with you. It’s Sunday. We can spend the morning in bed if we want.”
Jeremy leans back so he can give me a quick kiss. “Are you sure? If you need some space, I can—”
“I don’t want space. I want to spend the day with you. It’s not like we’re just starting dating or anything. We’ve been together for twelve years. We don’t have to go through that weird, cautious beginning-of-a-relationship dance.”
He chuckles and kisses me again. “All right. I’ll go get Leo and come back. I’m sure he’ll be thrilled to spend the morning with us. But don’t blame me if he’s an unwanted, drooling spectator to us having sex.”
I giggle at his dry tone and pull the covers up over me again. I’m still smiling as he throws his clothes on and leaves the room.
And I’m still smiling when I go back to sleep.
WE END UP SPENDING all of Sunday together. Sleeping in late. Having slow sex with a lot of laughter and kissing. Taking Leo for a long walk in the town park. Then making a late lunch at the house and hanging out all afternoon.
I make Jeremy watch two Christmas movies, and he complains about every sentimental scene. But I know he’s not having a bad time. Neither am I. It’s one of the best days I can remember.
We have to go back to work the following day, but he and Leo hang out at my place every evening for the rest of the week. Sometimes he spends the night, and sometimes he leaves late, after we have sex. The way we act with each other is really not that much different than it was before, except we’re spending more time together than we used to.
