Page 15 of Jessica and the Jarhead
She kissed me again, short and soft and so achingly sweet.
Chapter 9
Jess
What the hell was I thinking? I wasn’t. Those kisses fried my brain and consumed any rational part of me. Fuck. Those kisses. I remember the heat between us, but it was never quite like that, like he branded me with his lips.
The panic from earlier, before those amazing, soul-melting kisses, beforethe bathwas rearing its ugly head. Sure, he said all those nice things and kissed me like he was a sailor going off to war, but that didn’t mean this would work. That didn’t mean anything. I was still the same person who walked into this cabin two days ago. Right?
Charles’ soft snore sounded beside me. We had gone to bed, but I wasn’t able to sleep. It wasn’t the loud, annoying kind that I’m sure would keep me up at night. It was soft and gentle and rolled through the room, and me, like a wave.
Charles rolled over and wrapped one of his thick arms around me. He pulled me back to him and held on tight, like he never wanted to let me go. A tear slipped down my face before I closed my eyes and sank into his warm embrace. Maybe I was becoming someone new, someone that could take risks again.
Light intruded on my dreams. They glowed with love, all sparkly and shimmery, but they floated away as I woke, toowispy to catch. I treasured that space between awake and asleep, where everything was cozy and warm and soft. I never wanted to move.
“You’re like a furnace when you sleep,” Charles said behind me. My eyes flew open and I could feel his arm slung over me, heavy and warm, exactly how it was when I finally fell asleep last night.
“Oh.” I tried to extract myself from the tangle of limbs and blankets. It’s something I did every morning and every morning I cursed whatever god made it so I was freezing when I laid down for bed, but boiled the second I fell asleep.
“Where are you going?” He sounded confused and sleepy. “That’s the warmest I’ve ever slept.”
“You say that now because it’s cold out, but if it were a hot Savannah day, you’d be running for the hills.” That came out whiny when I meant for it to be glib. Unfortunately, that was something that had happened more than once to me.
“We’ll just get cooling sheets,” he said as he pulled me back tighter against him, like if he held me here tight enough we would make it to that hot summer day.
“You say that like you’re so sure I’m going to be sharing a bed with you past this weekend.” Despite my protests, I snuggled closer.
“I’m sure.” His breath tickled my ear and the low tone of his voice shot through me like a dart, hitting all the right places as it went.
Charles started moving his hand along my stomach, gently and softly, like I was made of glass. I squirmed. Touching myself to imaginary Charles paled compared to the feeling of his hands on me, his warm body pressed against mine, and the low vibrations of his voice rolling through me.
“So soft.” His hands widened their path and grazed the underside of my breast. This was not taking it slow.
“I’m going to make some coffee,” I said, trying to regain my sanity. If I stayed right here, I’d melt. If I stayed here, his hand would move from my stomach to cup my breast, tease my nipple and make me moan. Or maybe it would slide down, slip into my panties and find the wetness I was sure was there.
Oh god.
“What — what do you like in your coffee?”
I still didn’t move, not until his hand moved lower. If I didn’t move now, he’d do it. He’d touch me.
Oh god.
I shot out of bed and landed in a heap on the floor, my legs still tangled in the sheets. Charles propped himself on his elbow and looked over the bed at me. “I like cream.” His smirk told me he meant my cream.
“Right,” I said as I untangled myself from the sheets. It was not graceful or beautiful or anything but my ass hanging out of my shorts. His eyes were alert as he watched me move about the room, and that damn smile never left his lips.
“Sugar?”
“No, just cream is fine.” He stretched his arms and tucked them behind his head, putting his bare torso on display. The sight of him did things to me, things I didn’t want to think about. Not right now.
“Do you really have to be shirtless?” I threw his shirt at him and he just caught it and set it aside before getting out of bed and heading for me. I ran out of the room and slammed the door in his face. He laughed from the other side.
When he came out of the room, the smell of coffee was permeating the small space and he had his shirt on. I only liked one of those. Not that I would tell him that.
When I had my mug of sugary caffeine, I walked over to the window. It had stopped snowing overnight, and watery sunlight fought for a place in the sky. The snow glinted and glittered likediamonds where it piled in high drifts, obscuring my car and blanketing the landscape. If we weren’t well and truly stuck here, it would have been beautiful.
Charles walked over and poured himself a cup of coffee. He had put a shirt on and a part of me mourned the loss of the view of all those muscles, but loved the way his sleeve pulled tight over his biceps. Biceps that he apparently built just for me. I wondered if I could ever believe he really wanted me.
