Page 13 of Say When
The knock comes less than five minutes later. It’s soft, almost hesitant.
I open the door. Jake stands there, hands in his pockets, hair tousled by the wind, eyes dark and steady.
“I couldn’t walk away,” he says simply.
I step back, holding the door wide. “Come in.” I know what will happen when he’s in the cottage, and I just don’t care.
He crosses the threshold, and the door closes behind him with a quiet click that sounds final in the sudden hush.
We stand there for a heartbeat, the space between us humming, then he moves.
His hands frame my face, thumbs brushing my cheekbones with exquisite gentleness. “Tell me to leave if you want me to.”
“I don’t want you to leave.”
The kiss starts slow, lips brushing, testing, savoring. Then I sigh against his mouth, and everything ignites. He angles my head, deepening the connection, his tongue sliding against mine in a slow, deliberate glide that makes my knees weaken. I clutch his shirt, pulling him closer, needing more. He backs me toward the bedroom, never breaking the kiss, hands roaming my back, my hips, learning every curve through thin cotton.
We reach the doorway, and he lifts me easily, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me the last few steps to the bed. He lowers me gently onto the mattress, following me down, settling between my thighs.
His weight feels perfect. It’s solid, grounding, exactly what I need. He kisses me again, slower now, savoring, then trails his mouth along my jaw, down my throat. When he reaches the neckline of my sundress, he pauses, eyes lifting to mine.
“Can I take this off?”
I nod, breathless. “Please.”
He sits back on his heels, fingers finding the tiny buttons at the front. He works them open one by one, slowly, like he’sunwrapping the best present. Cool air kisses my skin as the fabric parts. He pushes the dress off my shoulders, down my arms, until it pools around my waist.
His gaze darkens as he takes me in, my best white lace bra, the soft rise of my breasts, the faint freckles scattered across my collarbone.
“God, Grace.” His voice trembles. “You’re so beautiful it hurts.”
He leans down, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the upper swell of my breasts, then hooks his fingers under the lace and tugs the cups down. My nipples tighten instantly in the cool air. He groans softly, taking one into his mouth, his tongue swirling in slow circles while his hand cups the other, thumb brushing back and forth.
Pleasure arrows straight to my core. I arch, fingers threading into his hair, holding him there. He lavishes attention on me, sucking gently, then harder, switching sides, never rushing. Every pull of his mouth sends fresh heat pooling between my thighs.
“Jake,” I gasp.
He lifts his head, eyes glittering. “Tell me what you need, baby.”
“Touch me.” The words come out desperate. “Please.”
He kisses his way down my stomach, pausing to dip his tongue into my navel, making me squirm. Then he hooks his fingers into the waistband of my panties and draws them down my legs, tossing them aside.
He settles between my thighs, shoulders spreading me wider. For a long moment, he simply looks, his gaze worshipful.
“Look at you,” he murmurs. “So wet for me already and so perfect.”
His fingers trace my folds, gentle at first, then parting me, finding the slick heat. One finger circles my clit slowly, drawinga whimper from my throat. He watches my face the entire time, learning every twitch, every gasp.
“Like this?” he asks, pressing a little harder.
“Yes.” My hips lift. “God, yes.”
He adds a second finger, sliding inside me with exquisite slowness. I moan, my head falling back against the pillow. He curls them, finding that spot that makes stars burst behind my eyelids.
“Right there,” I breathe.
He keeps the rhythm steady, thumb working my clit in tight circles while his fingers stroke inside me. The pleasure builds fast, coiling tighter and tighter.
