Page 44 of Jesse
He came up behind me a second later, close enough that I could feel his heat at my back.
When I turned, he was right there.
His fingers brushed mine as he took the bottle. That little contact, barely a whisper of skin, sent sparks crawling up my arm. I stared at him a second too long, and he noticed.
His lips curved into that half-smile that made me stupid.
“So,” I said, clearing my throat. “You think we’ll survive the next competition round?”
Beck leaned against the counter, eyes glinting. “We survived the last one. Barely.”
“You meanIsurvived your perfectionist streak.”
He scoffed. “Please. If it wasn’t for my ‘perfectionist streak’ we wouldn’t have plated anything on time.”
“You’re lucky I think bossy looks good on you.”
His brows arched. “Oh, do you now?”
I took a long sip of my beer, but my eyes never left him. “I’m just saying. You make it hard to focus when you get all intense and focused. It’s kind of… hot.”
The air between us shifted. Slowed. Thickened.
I saw the moment he felt it too. His breathing changed, chest rising just a little quicker. His lips parted, eyes locked on mine. Without thinking, I stepped closer.
“Jesse,” he murmured, but didn’t move away.
“I’ve been trying to take this slow,” I said quietly.
“You suck at slow.”
I laughed. “I know.”
And then I kissed him.
His mouth met mine like we’d done this before in another life. Soft, but not hesitant. It was warm, sure, but it also had teeth.
His fingers fisted in my shirt, mine tugging him closer by the waist.
There was no shyness in the way he kissed me back, only hunger and heat and something wild, something neither of us wanted to name just yet.
I guided us out of the kitchen, still kissing, beer long forgotten on the counter.
Somehow we made it to the couch. He landed on top of me, straddling my lap, grinning down like he had me exactly where he wanted. Maybe he did.
I pushed his hoodie off his shoulders, let my fingers skim the warm skin beneath. He shivered under my touch.
“You always run this hot?” I asked, voice rougher than I meant it to be.
“Only around you.”
I leaned up, kissed his neck, and was rewarded with a soft inhale. He arched slightly, pressing closer.
The foreplay was a blur of heat and tension, kisses that turned into nips, touches that grew bolder.
His hands slipped under my shirt and I let him pull it over my head, watched his eyes flick over my chest like he wanted to memorize it.
“Bedroom?” I asked.
