Jake’s hands are warm when he reaches for me, sliding under my hair and pulling me close. Our kisses start off where they left off—heated and full of passion. Never in my life did I think a boy like Jake Hollingsworth would like me—or that any boy would like me--but I taste it on his mouth, in the way his hips press against mine, the way he hums between kisses.
I feel chills, this time not from the cold, when his lips trail hot down my neck, tongue sucking at the soft spot nestled in my collar bone. I place my palms against his chest, feeling him the way I wanted to in the theater, pushing his shirt to reveal his stomach and chest. I kiss the taut, smooth skin that stretches over his muscles. He’s built like a Greek god; mind and body, all hard lines and confident swagger. But like all of the ancients, he has his flaws and in this case, like he swore, his self-control falters when it comes to me. His hands are needy, rough. He pushes and pulls at my sweater until he’s yanked it over my head. He cradles me to his chest, skin to skin, and I’ve only been this close to someone once before and this feels just as good.
My fingers tuck into the waistband of his jeans and his belly caves. Once more, he pauses my hand. “I don’t want to have sex tonight, Starlee.”
I frown, confused. “Why not?”
“We can break the rules, but not all of them. I want to be able to tell the truth if this falls apart.” He brushes my hair over my shoulders. “I want to take my time when we’re finally together like that.”
“Okay,” I say in a rush, overwhelmed at the luxury of time with this amazing boy. “But what about what we did in my room that night? When you…” I can’t say the words without blushing. He smiles and rubs my cheek. “That isn’t crossing a line?”
“I wanted to make you feel good.”
“You did.” God, he did. So good. “What if I want to do the same for you?”
His jaw clenches and I touch his chest over his heart, feeling the pounding under his skin. I drag my nails down his body, eliciting a shiver. I’ve never felt so powerful.
I push him back and his calves hit the couch and when I reach for the button on his jeans he doesn’t stop me, instead running his hand up my neck and threading his fingers in my hair. I act braver than I am when I push his pants over his hip, revealing the sharp V of muscle that vanishes into his boxers, pretending I’m not intimidated by the size of his bulge. He takes my hand and guides me, running my palm over the cotton, feeling the heat underneath. My heart pounds, pounds, pounds, thrumming in my chest, my ears, my veins.
He lifts my chin while I have him in my hands and the brilliant blue of his eyes tells me everything I need to know, but he says it anyway. “You’re the first girl to understand me. You accept me for not just my skills but my flaws. My parents,” his Adam’s apple bobs, “they didn’t know how much I struggled, but you knew, right away.” His mouth moves close to mine, whispering against my lips. “I love you, Starlee Jones.”
I’m overwhelmed. Consumed. “I love you, too.”
We stop talking after that and I encourage him to sit and I lower myself between his knees. I’m scared but also exhilarated. I’ve never done this before, but I do love him and I want to show him how much. My timidity is overtaken by the desire to feel him. Coax him with my hands. I kiss him with my mouth. Stroke him with my hands. In this moment, I see his vulnerability and I exhibit power as he trembles at my will. The sound of my name on his tongue along with the way his fingers tighten in my hair binds us together.
I’ve never known such intimacy.
When we’re finished, he pulls me into his lap and I curl against his sweaty, warm chest for a moment—just one moment—where we’re allowed to just be.
20
Starlee
When I finally roll out of bed, I’m thankful I didn’t set the time to meet up with Jasper to get the Christmas tree earlier than eleven. The night before with Jake had been amazing. Once we checked on everything and locked up the cottage, he followed me back to my window, helped me inside and scra
mbled up to the porch roof. Once inside he texted me the all-clear and another I love you.
I shower, hoping the heat will make the red marks from his scruffy chin fade away from my neck, and then dress, pulling a sweater with a thick neck over my head. My cheeks are flushed, they burn every time I think of what we did—what I did—in the dark of the cottage. The way Jake moved, sounded, was sexier than anything I’d ever imagined and I get heated all over again thinking about it.
“How’d you sleep?” Leelee asks when I walk in the kitchen. She’s already got her cup of Sam’s Blend from next door and there’s only a bite of Lucifer’s Lemon Tart left on her plate. I walk by and snag it, the sweet and sour melting on my tongue.
“Okay. I think I was just tired from the busy week at school.”
“And you’re going to the tree farm today?”
“Yep. Over in Murphy’s, on the other side of the park? They said they’d donate it to the school.”
“Who’s driving? Dexter?”
“No, this boy from school named Jasper. He’s in the club, too, and has a truck.”
“Oh, that’s right. Well, you guys be careful going over the northern pass of the park. It can get icy.”
“We will,” I say, giving her a kiss on her cheek. Jasper should be here any minute and it’s easier for me to meet him out by the lodge. “Have a good day.”
I wear my waterproof boots and grab my coat and gloves, knowing we’ll be outside for most of the day. We’re going to actually cut down a tree. I sit on the front steps of the office and wait, watching a few people, locals and passthroughs walk in and out of the Wayward Sun. The smell of baked goods wafts through the air and when Jasper pulls up in a beat-up black truck and suggests we stop in to grab something for the road, I don’t argue.
“So, you play baseball?” I point to the patch on his jacket. I don’t know much about the sport, but he looks athletic. Taller than me but shorter than Jake. He’s sturdy.