Page 84 of The Moon Also Rises
“I should go,” he says, and I feel the dip in the sofa that comes as he stands to leave. When I look up and see him run his fingers through his hair, but not catching that bit at the front, I know exactly what I want to do.
“Don’t go,” I say, and I grab his hand. “Don’t you fucking dare go anywhere.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Jake
Itold myself if he stopped me going, if he said something to make me stay, then I would stay. But if he let me go, then I’d go. I’d walk away and find some peace with it all. Eventually. What I didn’t expect is how I would feel if he spoke to me in that way again, that heavy, loaded voice, the rare curse words and the gravel in it all. Now I know I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to.
I look down at him then, wanting to see if his face matches his words, and I see they do. There’s his stern jaw, low brows and a shimmering quality to his silver eyes, a soft glow that reminds me of the moon on a clear night.
“Jake,” he says, another growl of a word.
I don’t speak, but I step back towards him and slide my body on top of his, straddling him. I exhale deeply when his hands land on my legs and glide up my thighs. When they come to rest on my butt, I roll my hips once, twice, and find his eyes, locking in his gaze.
“Say it again,” I say, possibly over-indulging myself but I don’t care. I want to hear him say it, feel that voice roll through me. “Tell me not to leave.”
“Don’t go, Jake,” he says, pushing up to press his body against mine. “Stay with me. Stay here with me tonight.”
They’re softer words, and I wait to feel disappointed because I was craving more of the swearing and the rough demands, but they have just as much impact on me as I grind down against him. If anything, they reach more parts of me, parts of me that are melting and bringing heat to every inch of my body.
“We’ll just fuck this out of our systems, right?” I say, wanting to make it very clear what I want, what I am almost starting to think I need.
Rami lifts a hand and places it on the back of my neck, readying me for a kiss.
“You can tell yourself that, Forester, but I don’t think it’s true. I don’t think one night is going to be enough.”
Swallowing is clumsy and laboured as my chest rises and falls with anticipation. I didn’t even notice how much I was rolling against his body, his length hardening underneath me and mine against his stomach.
“Kiss me,” I say. “Kiss me before you say more stupid, annoying, ridiculous things.”
I feel a tug on the short hair at the nape of my neck.
“Tell me I’m not speaking the truth,” he says pulling my head back so my neck is open to him. He grazes his teeth down one side. “Tell me it’s a fucking lie.”
I shudder as another fresh bud of desire blooms inside me. “I just want you, Rami. I want you so much it drives me up the wall.”
“Good boy,” Rami says into the skin of my neck. “I like it when you tell me how you really feel.”
I only see the smile that opens his mouth for a split second before his lips come crashing down on mine. Our first kisses on that bench in front of a stately home were playful, curious, exploratory. Our second night of kissing at my flat had more hunger and less patience. But these kisses. These are the kind of kisses that almost feel like they could kill. There’s no space to breathe, no room for air to find us, but we don’t seem to need it. Because all that I need in this moment is in his kiss.
As Rami pushes me against him with the hand on the back of my head, I feel like he wants to sear this kiss into my memory. Even if I’ve got that wrong, I know that’s exactly where this kiss will always live. I’ll never forget it, and that both aggravates me as much as it thrills me.
Finally needing air, I push against his chest to create a little space and take in a lungful of oxygen. Rami takes my pause as an invitation to run his teeth, his tongue, his lips up along my jawline.
“You promised me a tour,” I gasp out.
He pauses and lifts his head. “You want a tour? Now?” he asks incredulously. Part of me wonders if he would actually give me one if I demanded it.
“I want a tour of your bedroom, Mr Events,” I clarify with a smile as I stand up.
Rami stands and grabs me around my neck, pulling me closer to him. A flash of a thought crosses my mind, in which I consider how much I would like it if he was taller than me so I could look up into his eyes, feel the full force of his power and dominance over me. But a beat later, I find myself liking how we line up perfectly, eye-to-eye, mouth-to-mouth, cock-to-cock, our bodies meeting in all the right places.
God, I want this man.
“Get your perfect backside down my hall and in my bedroom. Right now. Don’t make me wait longer than you already have.”
Partly-skipping, partly-stumbling, I obey his orders and find his bedroom through the second door on the right out of the corridor. A space that’s almost as big as my entire flat, his bedroom has the same view as the living room and I find my attention briefly drift there, marvelling at how small this impossibly big city looks out of more floor-to-ceiling windows. But then I hear a click and a whir, and my eyes lift to see a blind coming down, taking the twinkling lights and the grey silhouettes of buildings away.
