Page 113 of Yes No Maybe

“You have no idea what you’re doing to me,” he says, breathless. His hands grip my legs, dragging me against him until I’m on fire.

“Your turn.” His voice is barely above a whisper, breathy and desperate. “I want to see you.”

He kisses me. Lips parting mine. Tongue teasing mine. Until I’m breathless and wanting, and him pulling my shirt over my head is the only reasonable next step. He eases me out of my skirt, too—my lacy black Victoria’s Secret bra and panties aren’t so secret anymore.

Only that’s not what draws his focus, not at first. In the warm light with no collar or scarf to hide them, he takes me in, studies me, lets his fingers trace the rugged marks along my cheek, down my neck, and cresting my heart. There’s more feeling in those places than I remember, at least under his touch. Softly, sweetly, his gentle exploration has me breathless and moaning and eager to take him. His lips follow. His tongue. Touching the untouchable. Loving the unlovable. Wanting me as I am.

“You’rebeautiful,” he counters, lips sliding over my heart. He unhooks my bra one-handed and pulls it away. Then, eases my panties around my hips and down my legs as I lean backward to the bed. I’m bare. And given the breathless, desperate, loving look in his eyes, beautiful, just as he said.

He meets me on the bed, and my legs wrap around his midsection, pulling him to me. He devours me, neck, chest, breasts—wild and gentle at once. His fingers graze the warmth between my legs—his touch alone might be my undoing.

Only I’m not ready. In a swift maneuver, I flip him on his back. My fingers travel along the sandy roughness of his cheeks, down the wave of his broad chest, and over the tight ripples of his stomach. A moan rumbles from him as my hand slips under his boxers and finds him deliciously hard and ready for me. I tug the last of his clothes away.

“Fuck, Rowan,” he groans as I take him in my mouth, his voice desperate and surprised. I’m surprised, too—this has never been my go-to. Trent made it a requirement, ruining it for me. But now, with Jack, it’s as if he holds the secret combination that unlocks therealme. And the real me enjoys ravishinghim.

His hand threads through my hair, moving with my rhythm, but only for a moment before he stops me. “I’m too close.”

He twists me around this time, lavishing me with wet kisses and teasing touches like he can’t get enough. Face between my legs, his hot tongue makes me rake my hand through his hair and cry out—a first for me.

Another first—hisattentivenessdoesn’t stop until I come.Twice.

One thrust inside me elicits moans from us both. It won’t take much more for either of us.

“Damn,” he growls. “You’re perfect, Rowan. Fucking perfect.”

He watches me from the bed as I shift my hips against him for the final ride. I’m quivering and aching for him—Iknewit would be like this. A stake has been driven through time. Before us. And after. Sex like this is practically a new discovery that’ll require decades of study and exploration—a prospect that thrills me to no end.

Nearing the end, he sits up, holding me tight against him as explosions and tremors overtake us. Even when they come to a slow stop, we remain entangled. Breathless. Clinging. Happy.

“You’re shaking,” he whispers, pushing hair away from my face.

“So are you.”

He smirks. “First best thing to happen to me today… or any day. This. You. Us.”

“Me, too.” A chuckle slips out. “This. You. Us… sounds like a book title.”

“Uh-oh. I’m definitely rubbing off on you if you’re starting to think in book titles.” He lays his head against my chest, holding me closer. “There’s something I have to know.”

His sudden seriousness surprises me. “What?”

He edges away, locking eyes. “Tell me the truth—was I better than Robbie?”

I curl into him, laughing. “Was I better than no-name college girl?”

“Fuck yes. Worlds better. I’m seriously considering marrying you just to secure a lifetime of that.”

“That better not be a proposal.”

“Hell no. I’ve already… well, you’ll see. Stop distracting me. The question was—”

“Yes, better than Robbie.”

“Thank God.” In a swift move, he twists me onto the bed and hovers over me, kissing my face and neck and making me laugh hysterically.

Laughter moves into talking and, later on, another sweet and sexy round in the shower—my idea—that leaves us trembling and tired but blissfully content.

Then, sometime, late into our first night together and still damp from our shower, we fall asleep, wrapped against each other like we’re afraid one of us might slip away during the night.

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