Chapter 24
Jacinthe
Idon’t hesitate.
I pounce on her.
She keeps hold of my face while I thread one hand into her hair and yank on her shirt with the other. Our mouths lock together in a kiss so famished it feels like fury.
I hear a few threads snap and try to pull away, but Tess catches my wrist.
“God, yes,” she begs. “Just take it off.”
I look down and realize I’ve ripped one of the buttons of her shirt off. I try to be more careful with the others, but I still snap a few threads as I work my fingers over the other buttons.
Tess shimmies the sleeves down her arms in between sloppy, desperate kisses and then tosses the whole thing to the floor with a frustrated humph.
It would be cute if it weren’t so fucking sexy.
I slide my hands up and down the planes of her back, moaning into her mouth at the feeling of bare skin under my palms. She tries to pull her sports bra off, but I squeeze her biceps to stop her.
“Not here,” I say. “I told you I want to do it properly.”
She blinks at me, her eyes hazy.
“Not on the couch,” I explain. “I want you to take me to your bed,ma chère.”
The last couple words slip out before I can stop them. I flinch, wondering if I’ve gone too far, but Tess just blinks at me another couple times before she seems to process what I’m asking.
Then she whips her head around to look at the microwave clock.
“We don’t have much time,” she says, but she doesn’t pull away from me. “Even counting the drive here, we’ve got less than an hour before they’ll be back.”
“We don’t have to,” I tell her. “If you don’t want?—”
“I want.”
She jumps to her feet. My grip on her arms slides down to her hands. I keep one of them clutched in mine as she practically drags me across the living room and into the dark bedroom.
She fumbles with the bedside lamp, and I only just have time to catch a glimpse of a plain white dresser, a pale blue comforter, and some indigo curtains framing the window before she’s pulling me down onto the bed.
I land on top of her, her legs circling my waist and her hands clawing at the back of my t-shirt. It only takes her a few seconds to tug the shirt over my head.
We both moan at the feeling of our chests pressed together when she wraps her arms around my neck, but it’s not enough.
I need more of her.
“I want it all off,” I growl into her ear. “Right fucking now.”
I rise onto my knees, and she straightens up enough for me to get the sports bra off her.
The whole world narrows to just those perfect tits. I try to push her back down so I can start kissing every inch of her, but she braces against me.
“Yours too,” she orders.
I glower at the interruption, but she just smirks at me and crosses her arms over her chest.
“You’re mean,” I tell her, even as I’m reaching for the bottom of my bra.