Page 70 of Those Two Words

PATRICK

I swallow down the shocked gasp from her lips and drink up the tiny moan that follows as Jo slowly sinks into the kiss. Her shoulders relax, but I don’t dare let go of her, keeping us fitted together.

Despite wanting to lose myself in this kiss, I can’t ignore her admission.

“I told you, Carrie and I have never been involved.”

She rests her forehead against my chin, mumbling her words into my chest. “I wasn’t jealous about that.”

“What are you jealous of then?” I ask.

Looking up at sky, she swallows, and twists her well-kissed lips to the side. “I have no right to be. I left. We never even spoke about where we saw our relationship going…”

And it hits me. What she’s jealous of. She’s not jealous of Carrie and me, but what we have.

Lottie.

A child together.

My heart spasms in pain, but also in hope. When she left, we’d only slept together once, but it was enough to see a future together. Or at least for me it was and it’s clear those feelings weren’t unrequited like I once thought. I don’t have the words to comfort her, because Carrie and I do share a child. I don’t need to tell Jo that Lottie wouldn’t be here if she hadn’t left, that truth is written all over her face. We’ll never know what could have happened between us if she’d stayed. But the idea of her carrying my child? Just picturing it sends me wild.

Is that something we could have one day?

Words might be useless right now, so I use my actions instead. I need to show her that she’s the only one I want to take each next step with, no matter how slow we take them.

Grabbing her hand, I walk us back toward my truck, pulling Jo behind.

“Patrick, where are we going now?” she asks in confusion.

When I scan the empty parking lot again, I reach for the door handle on the passenger side and fling it open.

“We can’t change what happened or our time apart, but I need you to know I’m choosing you now. I never stopped choosing you. There hasn’t been a day since you left where I haven’t thought about you. If you want to do this, get in the truck, because the last two weeks have been torture. If you’re not ready yet, let me know and I will drive you home. We can watch those nineties sitcoms you love so much or do a jigsaw puzzle, I don’t care what we do. Tonight you’re mine. And I need you to know one thing.” I close the short distance between us. “What happened, happened; it’s in the past, but this moment right now…” I point to the ground beneath our feet and keep my gaze locked with hers. “It’s ours. Let’s forget about everyone else and what could have been. I’ve waited six years, and I don’t want to wait another second.”

I worry I’ve stunned her to silence, but when she speaks, her voice strains from all the emotions I see on her face. “Wait another second for what?”

“To be with you again. To feel you around me. Fuck, I’m desperate for you, love. I’ll wait, just don’t push me away. Let me be the arms you fall into when your days are tough.”

Her chest rises and falls rapidly, emotions swirling in her eyes, but I don’t see indecision there.

I see want and lust.

When she throws herself at me and our lips collide again, there’s not more waiting, and I know there’s no looking back.

Turning us so her back is to the open passenger door, I wrap my hands around the backs of her thighs, and she gasps in surprise as I hoist her up onto the bench seat.

Her tits are now at the perfect height, and I waste no time in getting my hands on them, molding my palms to the small handfuls through the soft material of her sweater. My hands trail to the hem of her sweater, and I give her a moment to object before I’m ripping it over her head.

The sight before me is one I would pay an artist to paint, just to hang it up in my bedroom and selfishly hide it away from the world. Baby-blue lace holds up her heaving chest, sheer enough that her rosy-pink nipples poke through, begging for my tongue and hands.

My mouth covers one, sucking it hard through the lace, pulling another sharp gasp from her. I forgot how vocal she is, and I’m desperate to hear all the sounds she’s going make as she writhes beneath me, completely at my mercy. Her hand flies to the back of my head while the other stays propped up behind her. I trace her nipple with my tongue and slip it under the delicate material, teasing the soft slope of her breast. One hand remains on Jo’s hip while the other pulls down the lace cup, and my lips descend again to suck the hardened peak into my mouth.

“Oh god, that feels amazing.” Her legs widen, and I step in closer, grinding myself against the apex of her thighs.

As I continue sucking, biting, and pulling, Jo’s hands creep under the hem of my T-shirt. I suck in a sharp breath when her cold fingers sweep across my stomach. She laughs, but it dies on her lips when I close my teeth around her nipple, clamping down, before soothing the sting away with my tongue. Her fingertips trace every dip and curve of my abs, slowly making her way up to my nipples and circling them gently. When she reaches the trail of hair disappearing south, she pauses and hooks a finger into my belt loop and tugs my upper half into the cab of the truck. The teasing touches have my cock growing incredibly uncomfortable in my jeans and my balls feel heavy.

“I want to suck your cock.” Her eyes look innocent, but the quirk of her mouth suggests otherwise.

“Jesus, are you trying to kill me?” I laugh between her cleavage while she works on undoing my belt.

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