Page 87 of Promise Not To Fall

Jake opens his mouth several times to speak and then finally asks, “Do you trust me, Kendall?”

“Should I trust you?” I counter, and he arches an eyebrow in surprise, making me stare into his eyes, hating the heartache written in them. “My gut tells me I should.”

“Then tell me you mean it. Tell me you want this as much as I do.” There’s an easiness about Jake I adore. A softness I’ve never experienced before. It’s something I missed, and now that I’m here, his gentleness is calming. “We may up an’ decide we made a huge fuckin’ mistake. But… what if it’s not? What if it’s the best years of our lives? We have to try. We have to just try.”

He’s absolutely right. It could end in tears. It could. And heartache. But then again, it might not. It might be the chance of a lifetime. A chance at finding my own happily ever after.

I want to let the words fall out, so natural, so true that they have depths I can barely understand. I can understand three very simple ones. The ones he’s looking for.

Reluctantly, my eyes focus on his. “I mean it,” I tell him, moving toward him again. Fidgeting slightly, I pull at my wet shirt, which is clinging to my skin. I can’t wait any longer for that kiss or to get out of these wet clothes. I’ve waited five months to feel his lips against mine again.

With a jerky motion, Jake’s fingers dive into my hair, winding in the wet strands around his hands, and he inhales deeply. It’s everything I’ve been waiting for since I left him. Our lips part, and he slides one hand around my waist, pressing me flush against his chest.

Jake is all for the kissing. In fact, he practically attacks me. His tongue excitedly exploring my mouth, giving into the passion humming through the room the moment I knocked on his door. It’s the kind of kissing you feel deep in your bones like a shockwave after a bomb goes off.

Needing to breathe, we part, gasping, and stare at each other. “Jesus, Kendall,” he murmurs, running his nose along my jaw, attempting to catch his breath. His eyes scan over me, lingering on my wet breasts before dropping lower. A slight smirk touches his lips, his eyes blazing with desire. “I missed you…”

When he raises his mouth to mine again, my eyes flutter closed. I fight back a shiver, wanting to melt into him. He fists my hair in his hands, groaning, lost against my lips. This kiss is much like the first kiss on the beach, slow but promising, and then it turns into something else entirely. Impatience.

He moves his mouth over mine, firm and demanding, making a groaning sound low in his throat. He tastes so good. Our kisses slow, and our breaths give our intentions away. His hands travel over my curves, taking their time before he finds my face again, sweeping my wet hair from my cheeks.

Mine move to his chest, slick from the rain. It’s then I notice the music playing in the background from his battery-powered stereo. As The Civil Wars fill the room with “Dust to Dust” it’s a reminder of what this is to us now.

His touch is heavy and slow, his kisses the same. “Let’s get you out of these wet clothes.”

I giggle. “By all means, take them off.” And then it dawns on me that we’re in the house that he shares with Zain and Nash. “Wait, are your roommate’s home?”

He shakes his head no, his hooded eyes barely open. Slowly, he takes off my wet shirt and then palms my breasts hastily. “Fuck, it’s been a while. Is this okay?”

“It’s more than okay,” I moan in response, drawing myself closer, letting him know it definitely is more than okay. It’s perfect. I never want him to stop.

His fingers tangle in the wet strands of my hair, tipping my head back to expose my skin for him, my racing pulse under his tongue. His stubble scratches my skin, leaving shivers in its path. I bury my face in his neck, breathing in his rich scent. There’s no hesitation, only surrender. As I slip my hand inside his boxers, his arousal’s evident. Breathing heavy against my cheek, his stance widens, his body hunching toward mine as his hips jerk into my hand. The desperation in his touch takes over, and he struggles to get closer. I need that too.

Standing in the middle of his living room, half naked, it’s hard to get the right angles. “Let’s go to your room,” I suggest when his teeth drag over the sensitive skin on my neck.

Nodding, he begins walking us down the hall. We glide together, his large hands snaking around my back, his mouth eagerly seeking out mine once again. When his kisses slow, his hands work over me. Gently they outline my breasts, each one, cupping them with just the right amount of force. Inside his room, his eyes close as he lays me down on his bed, a mattress on the floor, his need growing stronger when his hips meet mine again, just slightly, but enough that I know he wants this. The moment he touches me, the tingling starts again. My body still craves him.

Easing my bra aside, he lets it fall to the floor. His hands move lower, resting on my hips as he unbuttons my jeans and removes them. It takes a good amount of effort since they’re soaking wet. When they’re off, he hooks his fingers around the edges of my panties, each fingertip grazing me with just the slightest touch before adding pressure. Bending forward, his lips brush over my right breast and then my nipple, giving me a slow, deliberate kiss, then grazing his tongue over that same path of pebbled hardness.

My fingers find their way to his hair. Drops of water bead over my knuckles as my fingers slide along his scalp. Slowly his hands move downward, skimming the length of my body. His fingertips grazing my center, the touch exactly what I need. My lashes flutter, sweet bliss.

The low gravel of his voice brings me back. “Has anyone…?” His eyes hold mine, waiting for my answer, the one he can’t seem to finish.

“Only you,” I assure him, watching his eyes.

Nodding, he explores my thighs and then back to my hips. Crawling up my body, his lips find mine, reclaiming what’s his. A lurch of excitement rushes through me, knowing where this is going, and the idea of his eagerness for it thrills me even more. It’s then I realize this is completely different from any other time we’ve been together. He’s making love to me, giving me a piece of himself he’s never given to another city girl before.

Drawing back, he pulls his boxers down and then kicks them aside before returning to the bed. My hands immediately seek him out, wanting that hardness where I so desperately need it.

Jake’s breath blows over my shoulder, my name on his lips. My eyes close, and I arch my neck, giving him more of my skin, more of me in any way. His hips buck at my touch, gliding his fullness between my hands. My other hand grips his arm as he holds himself above me, his head bent forward so all I can see is the sharply defined edges of his shoulders.

Between my legs, his hand finds my center and his fingers gently prod, waiting for me to look at him. “You want me… Kendall?”

My eyes fly open, and I stare into sky blue. I nod, but that’s not enough for him. He wants my words. “Say it.”

“I do.” I lift my hips, grinding my pussy along his so hard cock.

Jake squeezes his eyes shut, a shudder rolling through his hips. “No… that’s not what I want to hear.” He kisses me, slow and thorough, and then pulls back. “I want you to say you want me.”

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