Page 56 of Always You

His smile slipped a little, but it wasn't denial or shock; it was all seriousness and focus. “Alex…”

“I will always love you, Jazz.”

Jazz smiled, then, and rested between my legs, as hard as me, close, his breath warm against my cheek. “I felt it then,” he murmured before kissing me. “And I still love you now. I never stopped. I just thought I'd never have the chance to?—”

I kissed him. Neither of us had thought we'd have a chance to be together again, but dwelling on the what-ifs and maybes would end up being too much and sour anything good we were trying to create.

He kissed me then, rocking his hips, and the slide of him against me was too much.

“Clothes,” he murmured.

Between us we somehow managed to take our shirts off, and for a moment, we were lost in kisses before something changed.

Was it me who backed away? Was it him? Either way, we stopped, and he stared down at me.

“I have scars,” he whispered.

I leaned up to trace a line across his skin. “You're beautiful,” I reassured him. I reached out, my hand covering his, feeling his memories' rough and smooth textures under my fingers.

“Scars inside as well. In my heart.” He dropped to rest his forehead to mine.

“I haven't seen war, but I'm not a teenager anymore, Jazz. We've both changed.” I needed to lighten the mood. “I have a soft belly,” I admitted with a chuckle. “Nothing like the scars of war, but I'm not?—”

Jazz pressed a finger to my lips, and his gaze was steady. “I haven't done this in forever,” he confessed.

“Neither have I,” I responded, my voice steady despite the rapid beating of my heart.

“We're so much older.”

“I know.” I traced a path to the tie of his sweatpants and loosened it until I could slide inside and cup his erection. He arched into my touch and whimpered. “We'll have to relearn each other, find all the soft bits, mend the broken parts.”

We pressed together, and Jazz’s weight on top of me was intoxicating, his warmth surrounding me, grounding me in the moment. I touched instinctively, trailing down his back, feeling his muscles ripple as he moved above me.

Alex stripped his pants, and our hips aligned naturally, and the slide of our erections against each other sent a sharp jolt of pleasure through me. The friction was exquisite, each shiftsparking heat low in my belly. Jazz’s ragged breaths spilled against my neck, mingling with the sound of my own as we found a rhythm, rocking together in perfect sync.

I wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer, needing more of him and Jazz braced himself on his forearms, his gaze locked onto mine.

“God, I missed you,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, every word a caress. His hips rolled in a steady, deliberate rhythm, each movement sending shocks of pleasure through me.

I arched up to meet him, desperate for more, my hands roaming his sweat-slicked back, memorizing the contours of his body. I moaned into the kiss, the sound swallowed by his hunger.

The pressure between us built, rising with every frantic motion, every desperate grind. I could feel every ridge and vein of his cock against mine, the sensation almost too much to bear. Our pre-come mingled, easing the friction and making every touch smoother and more intense.

Jazz’s movements became erratic, his breathing shallow and uneven. “I’m close,” he panted against my neck, his words a plea and a warning.

“Me too,” I gasped, tightening my legs around him, pulling him into me as if I could fuse us together.

With a low groan, Jazz buried his face in my neck, his hips jerking uncontrollably. I felt the hot spill of his release between us, the heat and wetness adding to the mess of our bodies. The pulse of his cock against mine was my undoing. Pleasure surged through me in overwhelming waves, and I clung to him as my release took me, my cry muffled against his shoulder.

We stayed entwined and panting, the room silent but for our slowing breaths. Jazz’s touch softened, his lips brushing over my neck and jaw. I slid my fingers through his damp hair, savoringthe weight of him pressing me into the bed, unwilling to let the moment go.

After a long pause, Jazz lifted his head to look at me. His eyes searched mine, a flicker of something more than satisfaction there. “That was…”

“Yeah,” I whispered, a smile curving my lips as I met his gaze.

In the quiet aftermath, Jazz exhaled a soft, almost awestruck, “Wow.”

“Yeah,” I agreed, feeling a mix of contentment and disbelief at the intensity of it all.

---