by Kim Karr
“Jasper,” I sigh.
He gives me a cheeky grin and is out the door before I can say another word.
Suddenly feeling all too alone, I take off my shoes and hop onto the sofa. Most women would use this time to freshen up. Slip into some sexy lingerie perhaps. Aside from the fact that I don’t own any, I feel like I can’t breathe and need some air. Opening the window, I step out onto my fire escape and look up into the night. Inhaling slowly, calming myself, I get lost in my own thoughts.
Minutes later I find myself crossing my arms to ward off the goose bumps from the slight chill in the night air, and then I do what I always do when I feel this way—search the stars. Count them. Trace them. Stare at them.
“Are you looking for the Big Dipper?” His voice is warm like molasses.
Chemistry.
It’s here.
And I can feel it.
“All of the constellations, actually.”
He laughs. “How many have you found?”
I point. “Three. There’s the Big Dipper. The Little Dipper. And Lyra.” I bring my hand down and then ask, “Did you talk to the building superintendent?”
“I did. Everything is taken care of,” he says.
“Really?”
“Yes, he was quite understanding.”
I nod, uncertain that’s an entirely true statement.
Jasper pulls me in front of him and links his fingers through mine. “Lyra, huh? Show me.”
“See that bright star right there?” I say as I point, tipping my head back to look directly overhead.
“I see it,” he says, his breath warm in my ear.
His embrace chases away my chill. “That’s Vega. It’s always easiest to see in the summer months. It’s also the tail to Lyra. Starting there, go up and draw a lopsided square.” I move his hand and trace the box shape in the sky.
“Ahhh . . . I see it.”
I smile. “See, it’s not as hard as you used to think to find them.”
He rests his chin on my shoulder. “I didn’t have you holding my hand back then showing me the way.”
No, he didn’t.
Not like this, anyway.
With just a slight twist of his neck, his lips are nuzzling my skin and his teeth are nipping at the flesh.
No, not like this at all.
Suddenly, I’m on fire. Flames are licking over my entire body and there’s a burst of heat clawing through my belly.
Soft lips press harder against the skin of my shoulder. “Do you still look at the stars when you’re afraid?” he asks. He’s not mocking me in the least. He’s very serious.
“Sometimes.”
“Like tonight?” he asks with concern.
“Yes,” I admit.
“What are you afraid of?”
I tilt my head. “The same thing you are. Tarnishing the only good memories I have of my childhood.”
His mouth tilts upward. “I thought we decided that could never happen.”
I turn in his arms and look at him. “We did. But I can’t help but still be concerned.”
He lifts his hand between us and curls his pinky finger. “I could give you a sign, but how about instead we pull out the big guns and pinky swear that no matter what, we will always remain friends.”
Smiling, I lift my hand and curl my pinky around his. “Pinky swear.”
Fingers locked, we study each other under the light of the stars. Saying nothing. Thinking. Deciding.
Do this?
Don’t do this?
That uncertainty weighs heavily on me and I have to look away and back up to the sky. It’s then that I see it. “Oh my God, look!” I point excitedly at the shooting star.
“Make a wish,” he says, his voice rumbling low and lustful.
I close my eyes. “You too.”
My wish is that whatever this is we have isn’t a fleeting moment. That even when I return, when his name is cleared, it’s still there. And then for good measure, I throw in that I hope my neediness doesn’t drive him away.
When I open my eyes he’s gazing at me. “Did you make a wish?” I ask.
He nods.
“What did you wish for?”
His grin is sly. “Now, if I tell you it won’t come true.”
I smile. That was what I used to tell him every time I made a wish and he asked me what it was.
Jasper steps closer.
My breathing is heavy. My pulse pounding. My heart thumping. “Do you remember how you used to tell me the stars were infinite and I could never see every one of them?”
He nods again, and this time his eyes glitter gold in the moonlight.
“There’s this line in ‘Evangeline,’ a poem by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, that when I first read it in high school reminded me of just that.”
His hands go to my hips. “Oh, yeah, what is it?”
Running my hands up his chest, I recite the line that I know by heart. “‘Silently, one by one, in the infinite meadows of heaven, Blossomed the lovely stars, the forget-me-nots of the angels.’”
Jasper sucks in a breath and stares at me for a long moment, seemingly at a loss for words. Seconds pass and then he takes a step back and outstretches his arm. “Come inside with me.”
I nod, taking his hand. Leaping. Ready for this. Jumping.
Once inside he takes my face in my hands. “I want you to know I never, ever forgot you, Charlotte, and I never, ever will forget you.”
Moved by so much emotion.
Happiness.
Sadness.
Too many feelings.
Lust.
Admiration.
Desire.
I fight hard to hold my tears back, but then his lips are on mine and all I feel is that driving need to be even closer to him. To take the next step. To leap forward. To fall with abandon.
Letting all of my concerns go, I thread my fingers in his hair.
Immediately, his hands are on me. All over me. One cups the back of my neck while the other sears my waist, almost as if purposefully covering my forget-me-nots. His mouth moves fast, mine faster. Our lips open, our tongues meet, and those sparks are stronger than ever. Electricity flows between us and the moment consumes us.
Lost in him, I forget who I am.
Not a feeling I entirely hate.
I toy with his hair.
He kisses me fast.
I kiss him slow.
He kisses me breathless.
“Jasper,” I finally whisper, hoarsely, unable to take the butterflies swarming in my belly any longer.
He pauses his kissing to look into my eyes. “Yes, Charlotte?”
“Nothing,” I say, shaking it off, not exactly sure what to say, or how to tell him how much I want him. Showing him seems much easier.
Resuming his kissing, I can feel his smile on my skin.
I think he likes it when he throws me off-kilter.
His hands are now anchoring my hips while his mouth travels from one corner of my lips to the other, then along my jaw, to my neck. His teeth are sharp, but the heat of his tongue soothes away the sting. I love this feeling, and the hiss that escapes my throat is a sound I know I’ve never made before. His returning groan tells me he’s more than turned on by it.
Pulling back, his stare practically burns me as he looks me up and down. “I want to see you naked.”
For some reason I’m completely unabashed by his request, but not here, not in my small living room.
Time to take the next step.
Infused with a bravado I didn’t know I had, I put my hands on his shoulders and push, not gently either. Roughly, I push until he edges back a few steps. His eyes light up when I do. Then I move past him without breaking eye contact and turn to walk backward.
One step.
Two.
Three.
And four.
Now I’m past the kitchen and in the small hallway.
Jasper is watching me. Watching in a way no man has ever looked at me before.<
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It makes my breath catch, but I don’t falter.
When his mouth parts and his tongue slips out to swipe across his bottom lip, I swear I see the rise of his chest coming faster and faster.
Curling my finger, I beckon him toward me in a way I’ve never wooed a man before.
The smile that breaks across his face when I do is one I know I’ll never forget.
I retreat another step.
He moves forward.
Feeling bolder, I lift my dress over my head.
His hissing sound urges me to be even bolder. Dropping it to the floor just as I cross the threshold into my room, I leave the lights on.
Once inside, I draw the blinds back, open my window to let the cool breeze in, and then look around. My room is neat. The bed is made. The spread has pretty wildflowers on it and is the only bright item in the room. The dark furniture that belonged to my aunt is clear of clutter. Turning back to the window, I peek out at the stars one last time. Behind me I hear the door creak as he closes it. Knowing he’s close, I pull the bralette I wore over my head. As soon as I do, his mouth is on me. And just as fast, his hands circle around me and are warm on my breasts.
I’m not ready for this.
Yet at the same time I feel like I’ve been waiting my whole life for it.
Maybe for him.
Molding his front to my back, he caresses my breasts and then rolls my nipples between his fingers. Under his touch they turn into hard peaks. As soon as they do, they start to ache, and that’s not all that aches. My clit begins to pulse with the sweetest desire.
Wanton.
Waiting.
When Jasper passes his thumbs over my nipples over and over, I can’t help but cry out. I try to muffle the sound, but don’t think I’m successful at all.
Jasper’s mouth is on my neck and when I feel the vibrations from his smile, I know I didn’t do a good job.
Before I can even recover, his hands slide down my body to the lace of my panties, and then right there.
There.
Right there.
Having grown wet long ago, my desire for him is evident through the fabric, and he lets out a long exhale. “Turn around,” he says, low and husky.
Trembling, I turn to see him.
His eyes fill with desire and he sucks in a breath at the sight of me. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful. You know that?”
I flush, heat creeping up my throat to paint my cheeks pink. I consider covering them with my palms, but the fire in his gaze renders me unable to move. My panties ride low on my hips, a boy-cut style, nothing extremely sexy, but the frilly lace and the way he looks at me makes me feel like they are.
“Take your panties off, too.” His voice is thick, proof of how much he wants me, and it gives me the courage to bare myself to him.
I watch him watch me as I ease the soft fabric down my hips and then step out of them. Standing completely naked before him, I’m not the only one flushing. Pink tints his cheeks too.
His eyes are wide and he puts a hand over his heart. “Fuck, Charlotte, you’re beautiful beyond words,” he whispers, and I feel prettier than I’ve ever felt in my life.
“Jasper,” I breathe.
“I like the way you say my name,” he murmurs, dropping a kiss to my mouth. “Say it again.”
“Jasper . . . your turn,” I say, nipping at his lip. This time my voice is raspy, but not nervous. Instead it’s filled with a kind of desire I’ve never felt in my life. I take a step back and sit on the bed, not at all meaning for him to put on a show, but it must look that way.
That’s okay.
Jasper pulls his shirt over his head, leaving his hair standing up all over the place. It looks delicious. His body is as long and lean as his chest is smooth. It looks delicious too.
I lick my lips.
My fingers twitch.
I can’t wait to touch both.
When his eyes meet mine, he fumbles with his belt buckle, undoes it, and then unzips his jeans. Stopping to bend and untie his boots, he stands erect again, toes them off, and yanks off his socks. His naked feet make those butterfly wings in my belly multiply. But then he just stands that way. Puts his hand on his heart and lays his fingers flat over it. He just stares at me. Frozen in place.
Is he nervous?
He is.
And it’s utterly adorable.
Springing into action, I get off the bed and walk over to him. Run my hands down his smooth, muscled chest, stopping to feel that hint of a six-pack before sliding lower and touching the strain that is more than evident in his jeans.
“Oh, fuck,” he says, and I think my touch is all he needs to realize this is happening. We are doing this. We are crossing that line. Right here. Right now.
He is hard and thick, and I suck in a breath when my fingertips skate over the outline of his erection.
Jasper’s pupils have gone dark, so dark they nearly swallow the gold flecks in his brown eyes as he looks down at me. “You’re so much more than I could have ever imagined,” he rasps.
The compliment moves me in a way I can never fully explain. He’s been with many women. Fucked them hard and fast, I am certain, fucked them in different ways, one, two, who knows, three at a time, and yet he stands before me now and looks at me like he’s never seen a woman naked before.
Jasper still has his hand on his chest. Maybe he needs a little help to get past this part. The part where we officially cross that invisible line we keep talking about.
Moving my fingertips to hook in the denim at his hips, I begin to push the fabric down, never once taking my eyes off his. His jeans ease down a little, then a little more. That’s when I stop and slowly nod my head.
His turn.
He nods back and takes over.
Our gazes never leave each other’s as he bends to push his jeans all the way down. Then I can’t resist a quick look. His boxers are bulging and the sight causes my pulse to race. Shifting my eyes back to his, I wait for him to finish undressing as I gaze deeply into his brown, brown eyes. Shoving the final layer between us away, he lifts his feet and tugs the rest of his clothes off, and once he kicks them aside, I finally inch back just a little to fully take him in.
Bold.
I’ve never been this bold.
As clichéd as it sounds, he takes my breath away. My gaze sweeps him from head to toe and just like that, the world feels like it is falling out from under my bare feet. He is just so obscenely magnificent. From his lean, muscled frame to his smooth, tan skin. It’s not the first time I’ve seen him like this, but it’s the first time I’ve done so with his knowledge.
Those full, soft lips quirk up to one side and he gives me a nod before he moves in to brush them against my ear. “I really want this, Charlotte. I really want you. I want you like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life.”
My heart seizes, going still before it lurches back to life again. Words spoken that mean more to me than he could possibly understand.
No one ever wants me.
“And I don’t want to fuck it up. So let’s take this slow. Okay?”
“Jasper,” I breathe with a nod. Those silly emotions he evokes in me take hold and render me speechless, which is fine because his lips are back on my mouth and his hands are all over me. I couldn’t speak even if I wanted to.
“No more talking about it, okay?”
I nod. I left those feelings in the other room anyway.
Suddenly, I’m made of feathers and he’s lifting me. Soon he’s laying me on the bed, covering me with his body, and I’m flesh again. Warm, hot flesh being seared by this man.
Although we’ve never done this with each other before, we find our rhythm right away. We are all hands and mouths, touching, kissing, sucking, licking, exploring.
Instinctively, I reach between us and find the heat of his silky-smooth cock. When I do, Jasper makes a small, helpless noise and it flames the fire within me. It’s so unlike me to be aggressive or make first moves, yet I find
myself wanting to slide my hand along his erection. To explore him in ways I’ve never explored a man.
There is no room to stroke him, not with him on top of me the way that he is. So I leave my hand where it is but don’t move it. Moments later, his fingers close over mine, helping me with what I didn’t think was possible.
Up.
Down.
Oh, God.
Too soon he abandons my hand and his fingers slide along my skin. I writhe beneath him and he laughs. “Patience.”
I laugh too.
The laughter fades, though, when he buries his face in my neck, the rise and fall of his breath pushing our bodies even closer together in a way that makes me think we were made for each other. Mere seconds tick by before his lips are trailing down my body, stopping at the pulse point on my neck to nip and suck it.
I cry out. The noise I make isn’t intentional, but it spurs him on.
Once he soothes that spot with his tongue, he moves lower down my body to kiss my breasts. His tongue strokes my skin and teases my nipples. His cock stretches hot along my thigh. He rubs it against me, his hips pumping slowly. The thought of how he’s going to feel thrusting inside me makes me moan.
“Damn it, I love when you make that noise.”
Just then I look down at him, a little horrified. “What noise?” I ask. “I don’t make noises,” I tell him.
Ignoring me, he moves lower still. This time over my ribs, where he murmurs something I can’t understand. He stops there to dip his tongue in my belly button and takes a little extra time to suck and nip at the skin surrounding it.
Oh, God, I love when he does that with his teeth.
He looks up. “That noise.” He grins with a self-satisfied smirk.
My hands fly to my mouth in embarrassment. Compliments during sex aren’t anything I’m used to, but soon enough I relax and let my hands fall. I like the easiness that is developing between us. I like what he’s doing to me. How he’s making me feel. How comfortable I feel with him.
When he kisses my hip, my pulse flutters with a strange new kind of excitement. I should be nervous. I shouldn’t want him to do what he’s about to do. But I do. I want this.
As soon as we bared ourselves to each other, we crossed that line from friends to more. Lovers? Perhaps. And now that we have, there is no turning back. This is all new and different. Feelings I’ve never had during first times. Trust is already built between us and I want him to take me wherever he wants. Do to me whatever he wants. Make me feel alive.