by Jordyn White
I ask Isabella how things are going with her job. After a few good-natured jabs about me trying to change the subject, they finally let it go and we all listen to Isabella getting us caught up on things.
But the situation isn’t as under control as I thought. As we move through the evening, no one can seem to resist interrupting the current topic of conversation to take the occasional jab at either Sam or me about this new development in our relationship. It’s harmless, really, except that it’s not. I know they don’t know what they’re doing, because Sam is doing a pretty admirable job shrugging it off (I’m doing my best, too), but I can sense the tension in her rising and rising.
Meanwhile, my thoughts keep returning to one potential problem: Sam didn’t tell a soul. Why not? Was she keeping a back door open for herself so she could more easily escape?
I admit, the whole thing has me a little on edge.
Grayson asks who wants to join the football pool he’s got going with some friends, then Isabella pipes in and says they need a pool to see who can guess how long it’ll be before Sam and I tie the knot.
Bloody hell.
I glance sharply at Sam. I don’t like the look on her face. Not at all.
“I want in on that action,” Chloe says gleefully.
But I’m worn out and I’ve had enough and I really need them to stop pushing her.
“Knock it off, ladies,” I say, in a tone that silences the entire table.
Chapter 21
Sam
Everyone’s staring at Jack in stunned silence, but I doubt anyone’s more stunned than I am. There was something raw in Jack’s voice that got my full attention. I look at him, really look at him for probably the first time this entire evening. Instantly, my heart softens. I think I’ve been too caught up in my own panic to realize something: Jack’s frightened, too.
Of losing me.
“Wow,” Grayson says quietly, clearly impressed. “I think Jack just busted out his dad voice.”
God, I know. It’s totally sexy and a little overwhelming, like fucking everything about Jack is these days. But I spare barely a glance for Grayson and the others. I’m only looking at Jack.
“Just lay off, all right?” he says, easier now, trying to lighten the mood a bit so everyone can move on.
But I can’t move on yet, not with Jack looking so alone. He shouldn’t feel alone when I’m sitting right next to him. As I think about what I want to do, my heart swoops into my chest, a big ball of nerves. But I take a deep breath, put both hands on Jack’s face, pull him down to me, and kiss him right in front of everybody.
I feel the shock in his body. I sense the shock around the table. I’m shocked, too. But I hang on until he’s pressing his lips back against mine. I hold him for another couple seconds, then release him.
His eyes are soft and loving and grateful.
I give him a wink, then pick up my glass of wine and sweep my eyes around the table. “So suck it.” With trembling hands I drink my wine until there’s not a drop left.
By the time we’re back in the truck, I’m past exhausted. I end up telling Jack I need him to just drop me off at home. I know full well what will happen if he comes in, and I need space to breathe. I really do. But I hold his hand and try to reassure him that it’s nothing he did. He only gives me that easy-going smile of his and tells me he understands and that he’ll stalk me with texts tomorrow until I let him come over again.
That boy makes me smile. I almost change my mind and let him come in after that, but we say our goodnights.
I lie in bed thinking for a long time, before finally falling asleep.
The next morning, I text Jack: Carpet’s on sale at Lowe’s. Wanna come?
Jack: Can we get hot dogs from the hot dog cart?
Me: Only if you’re a good boy.
I can just see his evil grin.
Jack: You betcha. *fingers crossed behind back*
Me: You can come over whenever.
Jack: I’ll be right there.
In the past, ‘whenever’ really meant whenever. It might be a couple hours before I’d see him and it wasn’t a big deal. This time, I’m glad there won’t be a wait, because I need to get this over with. Ever since that morning Ashley caught us, I’ve been thinking about what she said, and she’s right.
Jack and I need to talk.
I meant to do it right away, but then decided the carpet section at Lowe’s probably wasn’t the place. Still, I ordered new carpet for the living room and Jack got his hot dog, so there was that at least.
Then I meant to do it when we were having Panda Express for lunch (because “hot dog” means “a wee snack” in Jack speak). Instead we ended up joking about pointless fortunes that aren’t really fortunes and making water snakes with our straw wrappers.
I really, really meant to do it before Jack and I started in again. But we’ve been back at my place something like a minute and a half and we’re already going at it.
Because I can’t help myself.
Because he is hands-down the hottest man I’ve ever been with, and a force of nature I can’t resist, and the only one who’s ever cracked my heart wide open like this.
And we really, really need to talk.
Instead, he’s got me pinned against the living room wall and I can’t get enough of him. He’s kissing me eagerly, holding my rear and bringing the front of my shorts hard against his cock. I’m diving deep in his mouth, whimpering in my need for him.
I fumble with his shirt, hurriedly bringing it up. He lifts his arms so I can take it off. At the sight of his bare chest, I want to taste his skin and suck on his nipples. I don’t have the chance, because he’s lifting my shirt now. I bend my knees, so he’s half removing my shirt and I’m half sinking out of it. As soon as my arms are free, I hang onto his sides, his bare skin hot under my hands, and start kissing his chest.
His hands come around me, softly cradling my head and my back. When I move to his firm nipple and take it in my mouth, he groans and holds me firmer. I suck on him slowly, running my tongue around his nipple. My hands are caressing his back and chest, and he’s caressing me too, breathing hard. I work my way to the other side, tasting him as I go. I slowly run my hand down his stomach, then lower. When I reach his other nipple and suck on it firmly, I squeeze his hard shaft at the same time, right through his jeans.
He groans and I start working my way down, planting kisses on his stomach as my hands start working his jeans, unfastening everything until he’s released and throbbing right in front of me. When I take his cock into my mouth, sucking and working him with my tongue as I slide down, he sucks his breath in through his teeth and leans forward heavily, catching himself against the wall.
“God, Sam.”
I take him in deeply, working his shaft with my mouth and one hand as I pull his jeans down with the other. Soon he’s in front of me in all his naked glory, and I’m practically making love to his cock. I wrap my arms around his thighs, embracing him, then around his ass, squeezing. He’s panting hard now and I’m throbbing. I’m still in my bra and shorts (yet again, why aren’t I wearing a skirt?) and naked Jack is panting and groaning above me, holding me firmly by the back of the head and starting to thrust into me.
That’s right baby, come at me. I can take it.
His dick is so tight I’m able to lightly use my teeth and he only groans more. I’m so turned on just from sucking him off, it wouldn’t take much to send me over. I’m torn between wanting him to come in my mouth and wanting to get this amazing cock between my legs where it belongs.
Jack makes the decision for me.
He pulls me into a stand and plants such a firm kiss on my mouth I’m practically slammed against the wall. Next thing I know, he’s yanking my shorts down to my ankles. As he takes care of my panties too, I remove my bra myself. When he comes back up, his hungry look grips me and I know I’m about to be tumbled downstream again.
He saves me, though, when he impatiently turns me so I’
m facing the wall, his warm body against mine. His hard cock is right against the fleshiest part of my ass. Oh yeah, baby. This’ll do just fine.
“Oh wait,” he says tightly, and I instantly know what he’s thinking.
He only has time to move half an inch before I stop him with a desperate “No! Forget it.” I want him raw.
He doesn’t argue. He wraps one arm around my shoulders, bends his knees slightly, and tucks his mouth next to the back of my neck. His other hand has a hold of his cock, the tip of which is against my folds, seeking. I open my legs more and arch my hips back, giving him easier access. When his tip finds my entrance, I exhale in anticipation. “There, baby,” I whisper. But he already knows.
He firmly presses against me until the tight ring of my opening gives way and he’s sliding in. Deeper and deeper. Raw, and all Jack. Still holding me, he braces his other hand against the wall. Both of us panting, we’re still, allowing my body to open, then relax and grip him firmly. Then he begins. Slowly at first. Each ridge of his cock rubs against every ridge in my body.
“Yeeeees,” I breathe.
Still slowly pumping me, he grabs one breast and squeezes it firmly, massaging it. “Yes.” I turn my head slightly toward him. Jack kisses my cheek once, twice, as he starts to pump me faster. My slick channel is on fire, and my clit is humming, aching for touch. I rest my hand on his as he squeezes my breast. I keep it there as he moves over and squeezes the other one. He’s still driving into me, harder and faster. I arch back more to meet him, pinching my eyes closed and letting my mouth gape open.
My hand is still on his as he starts to slide it down my stomach and toward my mound. I push him slightly, eager, and he complies by moving his hand faster. When his fingers slip over my clit, my fingers still on top of his, I arch my head back and cry out and still he’s pumping me.
“Yes, Jack, yes. Don’t stop.” This is exactly what I want.
His arm that was against the wall comes down then and grips my body hard against his as he increases his rhythm, faster and faster. I bring my arms in front of me, bent in front of my chest, and use them to brace against the wall as he leans harder into me.
“Ohmigod.”
“Damn, you feel good,” he says tightly, his hot breath in my ear. “Oh, Sam.”
He’s thrusting hard into me, his tongue teasing my earlobe, his finger rubbing my clit in short, rapid motions. I’m arching back against him, my face and chest hot and flushed. I’m past words, and letting out my low sex cries over and over. I’m so overwhelmed with pleasure, my mind feels tipped to the edge of insanity.
I can’t even breathe as I feel myself climbing. The heat in my body peaks, the pleasure ballooning within me peaks, the tsunami of ecstasy peaks and I am trembling and crying out as my orgasm tears through me. Jack moans loudly in my ear as he comes too.
I gasp and cry out over and over, panting hard and shuddering as he climaxes against me. He’s crushing my breast as he holds me tight, moaning in my ear, and my orgasm eats me alive. God, yeeeeeees.
At last, my body is released from the mind-numbing high and I gasp for breath, leaning harder against the wall, losing the ability to support myself. After he slows and comes out, he leans gently against me, cradling me. We’re both panting hard, slowly stilling. My body is still humming.
He eases off me just enough to turn me to face him. I keep my eyes closed and tuck my face into his chest, trying to catch my breath. I love you, I love you, I love you.
Which reminds me. We really do need to talk.
After locking the front door to prevent unexpected interruptions, and noting that we should probably make a habit of that from now on, we move to the bedroom and rest under the covers.
The moment is now. I know it is. We’re on our sides, facing one another, limbs entangled and hands lightly caressing faces, shoulders, arms. My heart is pounding out of my chest, and not from anything physical we’re doing. It’s from the knowledge that if I want to not fuck this up, I have to be willing to do it right. I have to be willing to talk to him.
That knowledge is doing nothing to keep me from feeling terrified.
I spit it out before I can stop myself. “What are we doing, Jack?”
He waggles his eyebrows at me.
Geez, he’s such a dork. “I mean, I know what we’re doing.” He grins, but I’m serious. “But what are we doing? What is this?”
Jack’s eyes soften and he grows serious, too. He comes up on his elbow, looking down at me, making my heart all fluttery. He’s considering me. Part of me thinks he might not want to say what this is. What if it’s so much more for me than it is for him? I mean, I know enough to know this isn’t a casual fling. I get it. But I also know us humans of the female persuasion tend to fall for guys long before they fall for us. Maybe it’s the way we’re wired, I don’t know, but I’ve seen it happen over and over again. So, yeah, the thought that I’m the only one losing control here makes me more than a little nervous.
But... that’s not why I’ve been avoiding this conversation. Not at all. There’s something far more terrifying Jack could say.
“I’ll answer that question for you if you’ll answer one for me.”
“Okay.” I’m trying to be grown up about this and not sound as scared as I feel.
“Is it a deal?”
I nod.
“Okay.” He takes a deep breath. “You want to know exactly how I feel about you, is that it?”
I nod again, even more nervous now. Here we go.
“That’s fair enough. But... I don’t want to freak you out. All right?”
Too late for that, dude. I nod, barely.
He looks at me, his eyes softening. I fall into them. Just like that, I’m surrounded by Jack. How is he doing this to me?
He takes another breath, then says softly, “I’m in love with you, Sam.”
My breath hitches in my chest and my eyes widen. My heart’s beating soundly. Here it is. Another line we can’t ever uncross and Jack just went galloping right over it. Why did I make him do that?
I know I should say something. I should. I should tell him I love him, too. I should. But I’m freaking the hell out, just like he knew I would.
What in the hell is wrong with me?
Still holding me with those soft eyes, he caresses my cheek and says, “I’m so crazy, hopelessly in love with you.”
God, he said it again. How can he just come out and say it like that?
“So,” he says, holding my eye. “Time for you to answer my question.”
I can only blink at him. Uh-oh.
“Why did you say you were sorry?” he asks.
Huh?
That’s not the question I was expecting. Sorry about what? What’s he talking about?
I relax for a second, thinking he gave me a safe, easy question. Then suddenly, I know what he’s talking about. I know exactly what he’s talking about.
It was that night, when he found me crying on the coffee table. It all started because he said if he didn’t know better he’d think I was crying over a boy, and my reaction made it so obvious that I was.
I remember the moment he’s asking about so clearly: me on the coffee table, Jack lying on the floor under me, me looking at him and realizing I couldn’t hide the fact that I was one more girl he made fall in love with him.
Fall in love with him.
That’s when I said, “Sorry.” I said it because I was sorry I fell in love with him.
Dammit, he knows it too.
“No lying,” he says softly, because of course my realization about the sneaky-ass question he just asked is all over my face.
I scowl at him and he starts to grin.
Oh, hell.
“Because...” I start.
His grin gets slowly wider. “Yes?”
Oh, hell, hell, hell.
I take a deep breath. “Because I kind of, you know...” I purse my lips and pinch my eyes shut, “love you, too.”
I peek one eye at
him. He’s wearing the biggest Jack grin I’ve ever seen. “Ah, Sammy,” he says in his teasing voice, pulling me in, “That’s so sweet. So tender.”
“Shut up.”
He kisses me then. And kisses me. And I’m kissing him back because I am officially hopeless. In a matter of seconds, I’m sinking into the mattress and he’s washing me away. That’s when it hits me what he said. He loves me. My heart swells so high and so fast it feels like it’s going to burst. He loves me. Thank God, thank God.
He pulls away, still smiling. I’m just trying to breathe. Man alive. Being in love is so fucking intense. I give him a smile too, though. I’m starting to see why people risk everything for this.
“I love making you melt.”
“I did not melt,” I protest, but I’m smiling because I’ve never seen that boy look so happy. Did I do that?
“Making you melt is almost better than making you come,” he says, still grinning.
“Well, that’s debatable.”
“I said almost.” He draws me in closer and hitches my leg over his hip, his eyes getting that heated look that lights me up all over. “But we could try it again if you’re not sure.”
Chapter 22
Sam
Then this happens.
It’s a Saturday afternoon, a week later, and I’m enjoying a perfectly lazy day, watching French Kiss, and waiting for Jack to get out of the local one-day conference he’s attending. I’m getting a little more comfortable with the idea that love is wild and slightly out of control, but also incredible and fucking worth it and maybe, just maybe, something I can handle.
Perhaps those are the thoughts that are distracting me as I get up to answer the hard knock at the door. I don’t even peek through the window to see who it is.
When I open the door to see my dad standing there, my blood drops clear to the floor.
I suddenly remember that text mom sent me almost three months ago, clear at the beginning of summer when Jack and I were at the beach. That was the first and last I heard and I eventually forgot all about it. I let my guard down. I swear, he knows. I swear to God, it’s like he does it on purpose, just to fuck with me and pretend he’s not.