Page 92 of Full Tilt
She nodded mutely, her lips pressed together. They flew apart in a cry as I thrust deep inside her.
“Yes….” she hissed. “Oh, God, yes…”
Yes,my body agreed.Yesto how I fit so perfectly within her heat.Yesto how fucking good she felt around me.Yesto how sweet her mouth tasted.Yesto the push and pull of our bodies toward the edge. AndGod, yesto her, this woman who’d burst into my life like a wrecking ball, smashing through my routine, bringing me back to life when I had already resigned myself to death.Yesto her chaos, her raw emotion, her desperate need to be touched and held and loved. Andyes, more than anything,fuck yesthat it wasmeshe wanted, that she unleashed herself in all her messy imperfection onme.
“Yes,” I whispered. To all of it. To us. Toher.“Yes…”
I felt the slow build in her, heard her cries take on a rhythm, each louder than the last. Her hands clutched my neck, her legs wound around my waist. I thrust deep, hard and slow, caught up in my own rhythm but holding on for her. She was coming around again, building another orgasm from the first, stoking the fires back up. It took everything I had to wait but finally she threw her head back and raised her hips to mine like an offering. I gripped her hard and plunged deep and if we didn’t come together, it was damn close.
The rain finally stopped a little after noon, and Kacey and I packed up the tent and our belongings. Our eyes met as we worked. The air was thick between us, full of the love we’d made. And my heart was growing full with her.
We texted Theo to let him know we were alive and dry, then drove back to Las Vegas. I kept my right hand on her thigh, and she twined her left hand through my hair. We talked and laughed as usual, but in between were thick, warm silences that didn’t need to be filled with anything at all.
We’d hardly shut the front door of my apartment when she was in my arms again and I had her up against the wall, kissing her, my hands tearing through her clothes. She still smelled like rain and hot coffee from our lunch stop. I wanted to wash the road off me. Off us. We were anusnow, and it fueled my lust almost as much as Kacey’s body.
Somehow, we made it to the bathroom and showered, hardly able to get clean as we couldn’t stop touching each other. We kissed between swipes of a soaped-up washcloth. I tried to take her against the wall, but she slipped through my arms and dropped to her knees. My shoulder blades hit the tiles. I stared blankly at the steamy ceiling as her luscious mouth unraveled what was left of my sanity.
Out of the shower, I dried her skin as I had in the tent, then set her on top of the vanity so I could pull her thighs apart and put my mouth on her. I went down until she was knocking things off the sink, her cries making the medicine cabinet rattle. I wanted to go deeper and harder so she would golouder.I needed her to fill my mouth and ears, wanted as much as she could give to me. As many moments as I could grab before they slipped out of my fingers. BeforeIslipped through her fingers.
Ravenous, we ordered in from a Japanese place and managed to stay dressed long enough to eat it.
“Now come to bed,” she said.
I lay back on the pillows, and she crawled on top of me. She gripped the bedframe above my head, her hair falling toward me like pale rain, her breasts swaying as she rode me, coming down hard as I rose up to meet her. And that time, without a doubt, we came together.
CHAPTER
THIRTY
I woke wrapped up in him. My head pillowed on his shoulder, my arm thrown across his chest. I stirred and peered up to see he was already awake. He hardly slept much, my Jonah, but he never seemed tired. Even last night, he’d been short of breath after our lovemaking, but he’d recovered quickly.
My Jonah, I thought.He’s mine now, and I’m his.
I traced my finger along his scar. In the morning light, bare to me, I could examine it for the first time. It ran the entire length of his sternum, to just above the faint lines of his six-pack that had been more prominent before he got sick. I’d seen a picture of him in South America, shirtless. Possibly at the very same spot where he’d caught the virus. His muscles had been more defined then, but they were still there now.
Because he’s strong,I thought fiercely.
Jonah took my hand that touched his scar. “Not too pretty, is it?”
“It’s not bad,” I said softly.
“Thisis beautiful,” he said, turning my hand over to inspect the tattoo that started at my wrist and went up the inside of my arm, almost to the elbow. It was a guitar, all blank ink, made out of F clefs and musical notes. “Show me the others. Introduceme.”
I sat up, to show him the blooming rose on my right shoulder, wrapped in thorny vines and buds that trailed down my arm. “I got this in Seattle. The sugar skull I had done in Portland, and these little stars,” I showed him the smattering of tiny black stars on my middle right finger, “were in San Diego. My second open act of rebellion against my father. The first was playing electric guitar. The second was this impossible-to-hide tattoo, especially whenplayingsaid electric guitar.”
Jonah laughed lightly as I snuggled back down against him.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Nearly seven.” He pressed a soft kiss against my temple. “I have to go get some work done. Then tonight is Sunday dinner at my parents’ place.”
“Ah yes. I remember the first Sunday when Theo distinctlyun-invited me to the family dinner.”
Jonah made a sound that might’ve been a laugh. “Well, I’m inviting you now. Can you come?”
I raised myself up on one elbow. He was so handsome, his dark hair against the white pillowcase. “You want me to meet your parents?”
He nodded and twisted a lock of my hair in his fingers. “I want them to meet you. Moreover, I don’t want to be apart from you any longer than necessary.”
