by Molli Moran
“I always have been, Coop.” I put my arms around his neck for something to ground me.
Jake kisses me, and it’s passionate and heated. It’s slow, and the sheer fact that he’s taking his time nearly kills me. When he parts my legs and runs his hands over my thighs, I moan into his mouth. He keeps kissing me, long, deep sweeps of his tongue and his mouth that would leave me weak-kneed if I were standing. I lose track of time. He kisses me until I feel myself relax.
We explore each other slowly. I touch his chest, feeling the well-defined muscles. He traces the lines of my body. He kisses me, touching me everywhere. I put my mouth on the tattoo on his hip. He kisses my ink-marked skin.
When he finally slides a finger inside me, the motion almost destroys me. I’m wet for him already, but within seconds, I feel wild. He adds a second finger, and the friction against my slick skin drives me crazy. He massages my clit with his thumb, but when I try to rise off the bed, he gently holds me in place with his free hand. There’s a desire growing in me, a need to have him inside me. I’ve waited long enough for this. I’m aching as he thrusts his fingers into me, but I know how I want this to end.
“I want you.” I whisper it against his lips, but I know he hears me. “I don’t want to come unless you’re inside me, Jake.” I hear the rustling of his boxers as he takes them off. While he’s doing that, I unhook my bra and take it off. It’s different now, the play of skin on skin. My nipples brush his chest, and when they do, I feel them harden at the contact. His gaze lingers on my breasts, and I smile up at him. “Later.”
He slides on a condom, settling between my legs. Since I can’t speak right now to tell him I trust him, I let my actions speak for me. Raising my hips just slightly, I brush against his erection. He kisses me while he thrusts into me, and I gasp into his mouth. When he pauses, brows knitting, I nod to let him know I’m okay. He pulls out and then glides back in, testing our fit and rhythm. On the next one stroke, I roll my hips up to meet him, and he groans a little, but doesn’t tell me to stop.
We go slowly at first, getting used to the feeling of being joined. When we’re ready, we find a pace that works for us both, and I lose myself in it. In him. Every stroke hits me deep when I raise my hips. I know I’m the one making the small moans and gasps I can hear, but I can’t stay quiet. Making love with Jake feels so incredible. He fills me perfectly. Having him inside me feels so right. The ache from before is back, spreading through me, pooling between my legs. He’s hitting my center, and oh, I’ve wanted this for so long, dreamed of it, told myself that it couldn’t ever be as good as I imagined.
It is.
At some point, I realize I’m gripping his shoulders and saying his name over and over again. He’s watching me, as he said he would, and the love in his eyes tugs at something deep within me. I feel my eyes fill with the good kind of tears, and I don’t try to stop the few that overflow. I meet Jake’s next thrust, and as I do, I feel everything change. What was only building slowly in me before is rushing, roaring, speeding toward a climax. It’s a spiraling feeling, up, up, up and through me. I can’t stop or slow it. All I can do is go with it.
I come with a loud groan, an orgasm that shakes me, lasting until I cry out, everything in me rushing toward it. Just as I think it’s over, Jake buries himself in me, and I come again. It’s even more intense than my first orgasm.
The tension releases and the rush goes over me like a wave. I’m pulled under, but I don’t mind. The waves keep coming, each bigger than the last, and the euphoria and love I feel is overwhelming. Jake comes just as my orgasm ends, and I smile fiercely. His isn’t as long as my second one, but it seems just as powerful. When he grinds out my name, I stop him with a long kiss that neither of us hesitates to deepen.
I finally drift back to myself and snuggle up with Jake. He pulls a light blanket over us both, and drops a kiss on my forehead. I know we have all the time in the world to learn each other’s bodies, likes, and preferences. This is enough for right now. This is perfect.
“I love you, Jake,” I whisper to him.
He pushes my hair away from my face. “I love you more, Sophie. I can’t wait to spend forever with you.”
As I let his warmth surround me, I close my eyes. I don’t have anywhere else to be tonight. With Jake is exactly where I’m supposed to be. I’m safe here, but he challenges me in good ways, too. We’re both becoming the best versions of ourselves we can be, and I’m so proud of the journeys we made as individuals and together.
I used to think that someday, I’d write that song that would change everything. I thought the life I wanted was out of my grasp. I thought my happy ending was evading me. But here with Jake, I can finally see that I was wrong. Even someday when I am ready, when I do find success, I don’t need to go looking for my perfect life in lyrics I create. The life I want isn’t one song away. It’s right here, right now.
I’m going to make damn sure it’s amazing.
~~~~
Acknowledgements
I remember starting this book and thinking “this one will be easier than the first was.” In a way, that’s true. I was more confident writing One Song Away, and so the process itself was easier, but there were hard moments, too. Moments where I doubted myself, where I wondered if I’d meet deadlines, if I was crazy for doing this all over again. I pushed through those moments with the help of friends and family, and I’m happy I did.
But there are things about second books that no one tells you, things that took me by surprise. I didn’t think writing One Song Away would hit me in the heart like it did. What was supposed to be a short, fun book about pretend boyfriends and kissing instead became much more about my main character finding herself and her home. And I think that’s something that everyone can identify with. I know I’m constantly learning more about myself and where I belong, and always realizing that home isn’t one certain place, so watching Sophie-Claire realize that felt particularly poignant.
To say this book wouldn’t exist without the help of some very important folks is an understatement. I’m not sure I could ever thank everyone, but I’ll try.
Thank you to my family, immediate and extended, for cheering me on.
To my entire street team on Facebook who encouraged me and helped me make important decisions about OSA—y’all rock. Truly.
To my CP, Marie: Thank you for believing in this story from the start, and for helping me make it the best version. Thanks for reading early chapters and not cringing. Haha! Seriously though, you’ve saved my butt so many times, and always give me such great advice. I appreciate you so much. Thank you for designing my beautiful cover and teasers. (Also, thank you for plotting to kidnap David Tennant with me, and for all your support in general. Love you!)
To Kay: thank you for encouraging me every step of the way, for helping me make cover decisions, and for loving me. I am so glad to have you in my life! I love being able to take what I feel for you and transfer it to the pages and characters I write.
To Jen, for your unflinching honesty. Thank you for never hesitating to tell me what I needed to hear, even if I didn’t *want* to hear it.
Thank you to my beta readers for helping me break OSA and make it better. The differences you guys helped me make are amazing. Michelle, Becca, Susan, Jess, Marie, and Jennifer: you guys are awesome.
Thank you to everyone who knew this story as “Southern Rebel Belle” at first and believed in it then. To all the bloggers, authors, and readers on Twitter and Facebook who chatted with me, “liked” teasers, and so forth, thank you! To all the reviewers who took time to read and review my first book, and this one—thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I’ll always, always champion bloggers. Y’all are AWESOME!
To my local friends who bought my book, or just asked me how my writing was going, I appreciate you guys so much. You’ll never know how much your words and your belief in me made me smile.
And finally, to you, reading this: whether you’re a rebel belle, or whether
you’ve always known where you belong, I hope you enjoyed Sophie and Jake’s story.
About the Author
Molli is a Southern writer who doesn't consider her day complete if she hasn't written. She loves coffee and talking fast, things she attributes to being raised by Gilmore Girls. She's a romantic at heart, and brings that to her books. When not reading or blogging, she can be found obsessing over Doctor Who, cuddling her various pets, or spending time with friends, family, or her girlfriend.
If you need to reach her for any reason—especially if you want to talk books, or theorize about Doctor Who—you can send her an email or tweet her!