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He’s as crazy as I am, and everyone knows I’ve lost my mind lately. Jax is a disaster… Just like me. He’s wrecked… just like me.

He’s just as flawed and desperate as I am. Most importantly, he’s going even crazier without me, which might freak some people out, but considering I’m in the same shape, it feels good to see.

I don’t want to push him away. I can’t. Not now. Not after seeing all this and realizing just how deep his own feelings run.

“I don’t want to waste decades like they did,” I finally say, watching as his brow furrows, unaware of the fact my own parents once went separate ways when the real world didn’t hold a candle to the fantasy.

But that wasn’t ever our problem.

This is probably the biggest risk I’ll ever take in my life, knowing it could break me at any moment. But I don’t want to waste decades playing it safe, looking back and wishing I’d made a different decision on this night when he bared his soul.

“What?” he asks, confused.

Instead of trying to explain all the confusing thoughts in my head, I reach up and pull him down by his neck until his lips bump mine. The sound of something dropping and shattering registers, but I don’t realize it’s his glass until he picks me up with both hands on my ass.

I grin against his lips, but that grin fades when his tongue starts doing mind-numbing things that have me wrapping my legs around his waist. He carries me through the apartment and toward a bedroom. I’m almost horrified when I feel the grip I have on his hair, loosening it lightly, but he doesn’t seem to mind at all, because he’s still devouring me, stumbling blindly into a room.

The wall hits my back, and that’s as far as he makes it before he starts pulling my shirt over my head, making it whine as though it’s close to ripping. I smile against his lips, feeling his need, feeding off it as it fuels my own wants.

“These damn things have been killing me all night,” he says against my lips, tugging at my leather leggings like he can’t get them off me fast enough.

My feet hit the ground, finally letting go of his waist, and he shoves my underwear and leggings off in unison. I start fumbling with his zipper as he pulls his shirt over his head, both of us frantically trying to seize the moment as though it may disappear in the next breath.

He lifts me up the second we’re both fully undressed, and my legs go back around his waist before he slides me over to the dresser, barely putting my ass on it enough to hold me up as his lips continue to devour me.

It takes a lot of effort, but I break the kiss.

“Have you been with anyone else since me?” I ask him, already nervous about the answer.

“Fuck no,” he growls, slowly moving his lips to my neck, peppering it with kisses and small bites that have my eyes rolling back in my head.

My hands slide up his shoulders and neck until my fingers are once again tangled in his hair, as my head falls back and I enjoy all the sensations.

We should really be talking instead of going straight to this, but it’s hard not to let him have as much of me as he wants.

“Are you still opposed to labels?” I ask quietly, pulling him closer with my legs.

“Call me anything you want,” he murmurs against my skin.

I smile at his quick response, and lean my head back up just as his lips capture mine in a kiss.

“In case you haven’t noticed,” he says as he breaks the kiss, brushing his lips against mine, “I sort of fucking love you.”

My heart hammers against my chest and echoes in my ears. I half wonder if I didn’t just imagine him saying that. After all, I’ve been a bit crazy lately, so it’s possible I did.

When I don’t say anything back, he kisses just the corner of my mouth. He starts to pull away, but I keep my legs locked in place, moving closer.

The second his erection bumps against me, he curses, and I whimper. We’ve come full circle; I’m back to being a whimperer. I blame it on the love confession—if it really happened.

“Condom,” he groans, trying to pull back, but I keep him against me. He could easily peel me off him, but he simply waits on me to release him.

I don’t.

“Baby, I’m going to end up embarrassing myself if we just keep grinding without any clothes. I’m only fucking human,” he murmurs against my lips, forcing me to smile.

I reach between us with one hand, grabbing him, and he hisses out a breath while thrusting into my hand.

“Foreplay is seriously going to have to wait until round two,” he says in a strained tone.


Tags: C.M. Owens Sterling Shore Romance