Page 101 of Good For Me

“You’re going to yell at me now,” he states, straightening his shoulders like he’s bracing himself for it. “I’m ready. Probably even deserve it. Do your worst.”

“I’m not going to yell at you,” I reply, realizing as I say it that anger is the last thing I’m feeling right now.

“Really?” he raises an eyebrow. “I was pretty damn pushy back there.”

I snort. “You think? You weremassivelypushy. And controlling.” He opens his mouth to argue but I stop him with a finger over his lips. “But you were also really freaked out, so I’m going to let it slide.”

His eyes widen. “You are?”

I nod. Swallow. Try to rustle up some courage to be as brave and open as he’s been with me. “I am. Because I was pretty freaked out, too.”

“Shit, baby,” he mutters, grabbing me roughly and pulling me to his chest again. “I’m so fucking sorry. I hate that you were scared.”

This hug feels a whole lot different from the last one. Our bodies are pressed just as tightly together, and there’s a lingering desperation in the air between us. But it’s not the same kind of fearful desperation as a few minutes ago. Something has shifted.

I want River to hold me and tell me that I’m safe, that the baby is safe, that nothing bad is going to happen.

But I also want him to hold me the way he had on the beach that night. I want him to hold me with the promise that there’s more to come, the promise that he won’t let go until we’re both completely satisfied.

I just want him.

It feels like the most natural thing in the world to lift my chin and kiss him. And even more natural for him to kiss me right back. He doesn’t loosen his grip—if anything, he pulls me even closer.

“Where’s your room?” I ask against his mouth. If I expected him to be surprised by my question, I’d be wrong. When he pulls back, he looks one hundred percent determined, his intense expression, so filled with desire, making chills erupt over my body.

Then he takes my hand and leads me upstairs.

The first time we were together, River had still been living in the apartment, but if I didn’t know any better, I would have thought I was in the same bedroom. The furniture is the same. The comforter is the same. Even the pictures and books that dot various surfaces.

He’s stuck, I think to myself. Stuck in the same job, the same routine. It’s not the first time I’ve thought that about him. But right now, it strikes me that he deserves more. He deserves better.

Then River is standing behind me, kissing the back of my neck, and I can’t think about much of anything at all.

“I want to go slow,” he groans. “But fuck, Jas. I missed the way you feel.”

“Slow is overrated,” I tell him, turning in his arms. I remember that other night, how the one time had led to a second and then another and another. How every time was different, from slow to fast to sweet to passionate. How we’d even laughed together in bed, something I had never done with any other man. “Besides,” I say, taking a step closer. “We have all night for slow.”

His eyes flash at me. “All night, huh?”

“You have a reputation to live up to now,” I say, reaching for the hem of his t-shirt. “You set my expectations very high last time.”

He bats my hands away so he can pull his shirt off himself. And holy hell, I think I must have forgotten just how hot he really is, all that smooth, tanned skin covering lithe muscles that I need to get my hands on. He sees the way I’m staring and smirks.

“I plan to meet every one of your expectations,” he says, grabbing my hips to pull me close. “I’ll even give you a few more for next time.”

I don’t really want to think about next time. I have no idea if what we’re doing is a good idea. If it’s something we should repeat. But I don’t really care right now, and I definitely don’t want to think about it. One of my favorite parts of my last night with River was how little thinking I had to do. I spend way too much time stuck in my head, overthinking and over-planning. I need River to give me an escape from that.

And he does. The second his lips touch mine again, my brain turns into the loveliest mush. All I can think about is how good it feels, his lips, his hands, our skin pressing together when he gets my shirt off. Then the feel of the weight of his body as we fall back on the bed, River on top, pressing against me.

Then he kisses lower and lower down my neck, over my collarbones, groaning when he reaches my breasts. I cry out loud enough to wake the dead when he wraps his lips around me. I’ve been more sensitive with the pregnancy—or maybe it’s just River. His mouth might just be magic.

He puts that mouth to good use, kissing every inch of me on his way down my body before settling between my legs for so long I’m pretty sure I’m going to pass out. He doesn’t stop until I’m shaking and gasping for air. “Come up here,” I demand, tugging on his long hair.

He does, sliding back up my body—until he pauses at my midsection. He stares down at me for a long moment before pressing the softest kiss just under my belly button. My heart gives a huge shimmy in my chest, my skin suddenly hot and prickly. I feel too exposed like this, too…I don’t even know what. Too close to something that still scares me.

So I tug on his shoulders this time, pulling him to me.

“I want you.”

He chuckles against my neck. “Pretty sure you have me, babe.”

“River,” I whine, wrapping my legs around his trim hips. That cuts his laughter off immediately. “I wantmore.”

“You’remore,” he says reverently. “More than I ever imagined.” He lifts his head to look down at me. It’s the same way he looked at me that other night. The same way he looked at me at the wedding. The same way he looked at me for weeks and weeks while he worked in that bar and I pretended not to notice just how much I wanted to know him better.

And he keeps looking at me just like that the entire time he moves inside me. When he whispers sweet and dirty in my ear. When he makes me feel so good that I fall to pieces around him. He only tears his eyes away when he buries his face in my neck, calling out my name while he follows me over the edge.