Page 44 of Freedom Ride

Snapper

Ipressed another hot, urgent kiss to her lips, and our mouths melded together with an urgency that spoke of the depths of our longing. The intensity of our kiss mirrored the fervor of our emotions, as if the very act of our lips meeting was the passion burning between us. Time stood still as our bodies pressed against one another, aching for more connection, more intimacy. Our hands roamed freely, tracing the contours of each other's bodies, igniting a cascade of sensations that only fueled the flames of desire.

“This isn’t too soon?” she whispered against my lips. “I just got here this afternoon.”

I glanced at the clock. “And now it’s almost seven-fifteen. I think we’re right on time.”

“Jonas,” she hesitated.

I didn’t want to force her into anything, but I also didn’t want her trying to talk herself out of us because she had some preconceived notion from society that we had just physically met each other. “Two thousand one hundred and eighty-five days, Lennox. Half of those I was talking to you. Over a thousand days, I've known you. If you think we’re doing this too soon, then I’m going to need you to pour a bucket of cold water over me and put a paper bag over your head. Go talk to all the girls and ask them how long it took them to hook up. I can tell you they will say by year three of knowing each other they were married and more than likely had a baby on the way.”

“Well,” she laughed, “when you put it like that, I think we have some making up to do. We’re way behind.”

A fire ignited inside me, and I pressed a kiss to her lips. “You and I are exactly where we should be.”

“Okay,” she gasped. “Okay.” She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, and I lifted her as she wrapped her legs around my waist.

“Wanna see my bedroom?”

She let out a peel of laughter. “I thought you would never ask.”

I stalked out of the common room and down the hallway to my room. I kicked open the door and left it wide open. There were definite perks to being the only one living at the clubhouse. Open doors were one of them.

I tossed Lennox on the bed and pulled my shirt over my head. “Clothes, off,” I ordered. It had been a long six years with only my hand to help relieve the pressure.

Lennox shimmied out of her shorts and kicked them off.

“You haven’t been wearing underwear this whole time?” I growled.

She pressed her finger to her lips and shook her head. “I’m not really a fan of underwear.”

I kicked off my boots and ripped my pants off. “You don’t think that could have been something you mentioned in all of your letters?” I growled.

Her jaw dropped, and she blinked rapidly. “Uh, what was the question?”

I wasn’t a fan of underwear either. I wrapped my hand around my cock and slowly stroked up and down. “Why didn’t you tell me you were never wearing underwear while you wrote me letters?” I asked.

“Slipped my mind,” she whispered.

“Take your shirt off.”

She grabbed the hem of her tank top and pulled it over her head. She reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She palmed her breast and kept her eyes on my hand wrapped around my cock. “Jonas,” she gasped. “I need you.”

“It’s been a long time, hasn’t it, babe?” I growled.

She bit her lip and nodded. “Please?”

“Touch yourself, babe, I want to see what you did while you thought about me.”

She hesitated, but her hand slowly drifted over her stomach and covered her pussy. She parted her wet lips and moaned as her finger swirled around her clit.

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