Page 325 of Boots, Bucket Lists & Bad Ideas
He pauses, just looking at me.
No words.
Just that look that makes my chest tighten.
I reach for him in return, tugging his shirt up. He helps, half-laughing when it catches on his shoulder.
We move without speaking. His thumb drags along my ribs. My hands explore the lines of his back. Every touch feels heavier than the last.
We rise to our knees, balancing no the mattress. He’s closer than I’ve ever let anyone else get. His bare skin brushes mine, heat radiating from his chest. My hands rest on his shoulders, taking in the strength beneath.
His heartbeat hammers in my chest, and his gaze pins me in place.
“You’re so beautiful, Jade.” His fingers trace up my arms. “This is all I’ve ever wanted. You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
My hands trail up her torso. “You’re all I’ve ever wanted.”
“Jade Fox?”
“Yes?” My fingers graze the stubble on his chin.
“I love you.” His words hit the deepest part of my soul.
My fingers clutch his chin. “I love you too.” I drag his mouth to mine as his hands find my waist.
Our mouth laps slowly and tentatively at first, then deeper, more certain. Every movement sends sparks up my spine, a shiver curling low in my stomach.
My fingers press against the curve of his shoulders, the tautness of his muscles, absorbing the careful way he leans into me without rushing.
I tip closer, letting the kiss deepen, and the warmth of his chest presses into mine. My knees ache from being so close, but I don’t care. I’d stay like this forever, bathing in his gentle touch. Likely his hand on my back, steadying me.
Every brush of his lips, every heartbeat, every small press of his hands is a promise, is a quiet devotion, and I’m helpless against it, leaning into him, letting the moment impossibly long.
Eyes locked on mine for a heartbeat before his mouth presses soft kisses across my shoulders and collarbone.
His hands stay at my waist a moment longer before drifting up my sides and cupping over the fabric of my bra. He traces the curves without rushing. Each feather-light glide of his fingers makes my breath hitch. I arch instinctively into the warmth of him. His lips continue their slow exploration, kissing near the tops of my shoulders, down toward the swell of my breasts.
His fingers brush the strap of my bra. I catch my breath as he slowly unhooks it and lets the fabric fall away. His large palms hover just above my breasts, his fingers splayed, his thumbstracing lazy circles around my nipples, never quite touching them.
His lips part slightly, his tongue flicking out to wet them, and I imagine that tongue tracing the same path his thumbs have taken.
Each pass sends a jolt of electricity through me, my skin tightening, my breath hitching in my throat. I close my eyes, letting the sensations wash over me.
My nipples ache for more.
“Hart,” I whisper, my voice barely audible, a plea without words.
His mouth closes around one of my nipples.
I gasp, my head falling back as pleasure spikes through me.
His lips are soft yet firm, his tongue swirling around the peak before he sucks gently, then harder.
I moan, the sound escaping me before I can stop it.
“Don’t hold back.” His teeth graze the sensitive bud, just enough to make me squirm, and I tighten my grip on his hair.
Licking and nipping, he alternates between soft and firm. Each touch sends waves of pleasure crashing through me, making my toes curl and my thighs clench—hands everywhere, cupping and kneading my breasts, his thumbs flicking over my nipples. The trail of wet he leaves makes me want more.
