Page 13 of One Heated Summer

“A couple of dates but nothing serious.”

“Thank you for telling me.”

Jensen reached over and ran his fingers lightly down the side of my face.

“Until now,” he mused, causing my eyes to widen. “It might be best if I went home.”

I stood and rounded the table to where Jensen sat. He pushed back his chair and I stepped between his legs. Taking his face between my hands, I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. It took less than a minute for our passion to go from zero to sixty and a few seconds after we finished attempting to devour each other’s mouths, I showed Jensen through to my bedroom.

In the dim glow of a lamp on the nightstand, shadows danced on the walls, painting a portrait of love and longing. Jensen’s fingers feathered the contours of my face and our eyes locked in a silent conversation of unspoken desires. The world outside ceased to exist as we hovered on the precipice of passion.

With a delicate grace, we began to undress each other, layer by layer, baring not just our bodies but our very souls. Each touch was a promise, each kiss a testament to the depth of our connection. The cooler air of the night had infiltrated the bedroom and caressed our skin, heightening the sensations and making every moment more profound.

Jensen's arms, strong and reassuring, swept me into an embrace that spoke of protection and devotion. He carried me to the bed, laying me down with a tenderness that belied the intensity of the emotions I knew were swirling within him.

With reverence in his eyes, Jensen's hands roved over my body, each touch deliberate and worshipful, as though he were memorizing every curve and contour. His lips followed a path down my neck, shoulders, and beyond, leaving a trail of heated kisses that sent shivers through me. The very air seemed to vibrate with the intensity of the emotions swirling between us.

Our love-making was a symphony of whispered promises and tender embraces, our bodies moving in perfect harmony. With every touch, every kiss, Jensen made me feel cherished and revered, as if I were the most precious treasure in existence.

My pussy throbbed in anticipation, impatient to be filled. When Jensen pushed his dick to my entrance, I sighed with relief.

He held me close as his dick thrust within. Our lips met with a passion that I’d only thought real in books or movies. My hips met his, thrust for thrust, carrying me higher until lights exploded behind my eyes and an orgasm crashed over me. I became limp, drained of energy. My fingers scraped at Jensen’s back as he fucked me into the mattress and with an almighty shout, he found his own release. I felt the warmth of his climax flooding inside as he held me tight.

Eventually, I pushed at his chest and he lifted so I was able to take a deep breath. Our eyes met and there was something in his I couldn’t quite figure out. Was it adoration…appreciation…wonder? Or was what I saw love? Love like I already felt for the man who had rapidly burrowed his way into my heart.

We climbed beneath the bed covers and as we lay entwined, the room seemed to pulse with the rhythm of our heartbeats. Moonlight filtered through the curtains, casting a silvery sheen over the room. I reflected on how we’d found solace, joy, and an unparalleled connection in only a matter of weeks. It was a connection I’d never known in all the time I’d been with Finn.

Time became a fleeting concept as I lay awake in Jensen’s embrace while he softly snored in contentment. Minutes stretched into hours, but the night seemed to pass in the blink of an eye.

The soft light of early dawn began to filter through the curtains, casting a gentle glow over the room. Jensen stirred beside me, his eyes slowly opening to meet mine. A sleepy smile spread across his face, and without a word, he pulled me closer, ourbodies fitting together as though they had been designed for this very moment.

“Good morning,” he murmured, his voice husky with the remnants of sleep.

I smiled in return, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. “Good morning.”

Reluctantly, we untangled ourselves from the warmth of the bed, showered and dressed. The air was cool and crisp in the house…it wouldn’t last long. Even though summer was at an end, within a few hours, the heat would be stifling, and rivulets of sweat would bathe our bodies, drenching our clothes. Jensen’s hand found mine, and after a sensual kiss, we made our way to the kitchen.

I flipped on the coffee maker and within seconds the scent of freshly brewing coffee filled the space, mingling with the early morning air. I busied myself at the stove, flipping pancakes while Jensen set the table. It was a simple, domestic scene, yet it felt profound, as if the night we’d spent together had placed our lives on an unexpected trajectory.

As we sat down to breakfast, the first rays of sunlight began to peek over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold. We ate in companionable silence, the only sounds the clinking of cutlery and the occasional chirping of birds welcoming the new day.

Jensen reached across the table, his fingers intertwining with mine. “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his gaze steady and warm.

I looked at him, taking in the lines of his face, the depth of his eyes. “I’m thinking about us,” I replied honestly. “About how right this feels.”

He nodded, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. “Me too.”

We lingered over breakfast, savoring the moments of tranquility before the world fully awoke. The dawn had broken, pushing the darkness of night to the edges and bringing with it the promise of a new day, a new beginning. And as we sat there, hand in hand, I hoped that whatever lay ahead, we would face it together.

Chapter Eight

Harlyn

Jensen had been gone for almost two hours, and taking Elijah’s advice to have the morning off, I’d armed myself with coffee and was in the office going over the books when a knock at the door sounded.

I closed the tabs I’d had open on the computer and padded through the house. Upon opening the door, I was greeted with enthusiastic hugs from two ladies who were fast becoming friends—Mia Knox, Cash’s wife, and Emma Gardner, Penn’s wife. Their smiles radiated warmth and excitement, and their eyes sparkled with mischief.

“Come inside out of the heat, ladies. Coffee?”

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