Chapter 25
Abby
Jet held the door open for Abby and then closed it after they’d walked through. She got a little thrill of excitement watching him turn the deadbolt on her front door. The level of familiarity that it implied, of comfort, of routine and domesticity.
She shivered a little at just the idea of it.
She could see the two of them going on like this. Coming home together after a long day, decompressing. Talking and snuggling, enjoying hot cocoa in front of the fire.
She closed her eyes to shut out the image. She didn’t want to get too far ahead of herself. Even though Jet had said that she’d better get used to him because he was going to be around for a while, there were no guarantees in that.
He hadn’t said exactly how long he meant, for one thing. And for another, he was going through an extremely turbulent time at the moment. Every single thing in his life had been turned upside down.
She didn’t want to think that, to him, she was just something solid to cling to. It hurt like hell to imagine that might be true. But, in order to protect herself, she had to keep the possibility in mind.
At the very least, she couldn’t allow her brain to go off all willy-nilly into “growing old together in front of the fire” fantasies. That couldn’t lead to anything good.
Jet’s fingers feathered over her cheeks, startling her eyes open, and she reached up and took his hand in hers. Their fingers were both still carrying the chill of the outside air and the contact warmed them, that warmth spreading sweet and slow, like a river of hot fudge over melting vanilla ice cream.
She stood up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. The air around them felt electric, fueled by the sparks that were going off like Fourth of July fireworks between them.
Her breath came in short, shallow bursts and so did his. They stood so close together that their breathing mingled. Everything about it made her feel as if they were communing with each other, becoming one. Something as basic as the very air they breathed was now the same.
“I couldn’t take my eyes off you tonight,” he whispered, and she could hear the rasp in his throat. It made her weak in the knees. “All of the hours that we stood there together. You holding that doll. I couldn’t help but think—”
She stopped him by pressing her lips to his. That was the last thing she needed, was for him to start talking about the future he saw for them, complete with a family and everything, when she’d just been trying to get her mind off of that.
It would be one thing if she knew for sure that that’s where they were headed. But she couldn’t let her heart get stolen when, as of right now, that was nothing more than her most fervent hope and dream.
As they kissed, their lips melding passionately together, every bit of cold that had settled in her bones throughout the night melted away, as if all it had ever been was a frozen dream. Heat raced from the top of her head, over her face until even the icicle tip of her nose was toasty, down through her torso and right to the ends of her fingers and toes.
Jet was warmth. Jet was comfort. Jet was excitement, and tingles, and fireworks.
And love.
Yeah. Love. She had to admit it to herself. Even if she wasn’t about to let her mind and heart run away with all the possibilities because she didn’t want to count on them, she couldn’t live in denial one second longer. She loved this man. There was no question about that.
His hands wandered up and down her body, the sound of rustling fabric filling the room.
God, even that got her revved up! It really seemed like once Jet turned the key that got her lady motor started, it could flare up over just about anything.
She growled low in her throat and damn if she didn’t like the wanton way that made her feel. She was like a Jezebel, all inhibitions thrown to the wind and she freaking loved it. Wouldn’t change it for the world, as a matter of fact.
Jet pulled back. “I’ve got to get you out of these clothes,” he ground out, as if he could barely hold back his wild animal instincts long enough to get the words past his lips.
And, true to form, her body flared with desire at the sound of his tightly (and barely) controlled voice.
“Do it, baby. I don’t want these clothes between us, either.” Before she’d even finished spitting out those words her fingers had begun to frantically tear clothes from his body, as well as her own. There was no rhyme or reason to the order she was going in. There was only speed.
Buttons, zippers. Those were nothing but impediments to be overcome as quickly as she could.
The only problem with that was that her fingers were trembling so violently with lust and anticipation that she found it hard to control them. And when she tried to focus, she found that she was too lightheaded to even see straight.
Luckily, though, Jet didn’t seem to have that problem. He was single-minded in his quest to have no fabric barriers between them. Under his expert fingers, pieces of both her clothing and his went flying all over the room, so she decided to just relax and let him take control.
She had to smile as that thought occurred to her. Taking control was something that Jet was good at. Giving up control, on the other hand, was something that she was terrible at. At least, she assumed that she was. She didn’t have much experience trying it. This would be a new adventure for her.
She let her head fall back and just enjoyed what Jet was doing. Every firm, forceful movement of his fingers. Every new inch of bare skin he exposed. Every brush of his demanding lips against her neck and shoulders. She just let herself drink it in, not responsible for anything but the pure enjoyment of it.