45
I wake early the following day lying on my back, completely entangled in Jake’s limbs on my side of the bed. He’s wrapped around me possessively, one arm around my waist, pulling me into his abdomen so that his face is in the nape of my neck, the other arm bent behind me so his fingers are entwined in my hair above. I try to maneuver out of his grasp, but my efforts only cause him to pull me in tighter, making it nearly impossible to get out. His legs looped and twisted through mine, so I’m immobile in every way, and I am stiflingly hot because he’s so naturally warm.
Who knew Jake was a cuddler in bed? More like a squeezer; it suffocates all life out of you.
Although part of my brain isn’t surprised because he’s so hands-on and expressive in every aspect of waking life, I guess being this way in sleep is a given. I lie still, staring at the dark ceiling for a moment, listening to the heaviness of his deep breathing. He seems so peaceful, and being held this way is comforting. I feel cherished and safe. I have never slept with a man, even my ex-boyfriends never spent the night, so this is new and strangely nice. I am at ease.
It dawns on me slowly that my usual night terrors didn’t wake me today. Instead, the sound of car alarms outside did. Having Jake sleep with me kept them at bay, despite the events yesterday with Ray Vanquis. A little rush of affection swamps me at the thought that he can keep me safe even from my dreams, and my body heats with awe.
I glimpse across at the alarm clock on my mother’s side table and see it’s only 5.00 am. I don’t need to get up anytime soon, but now I’m wide awake. I try to wriggle to my side to get comfier, managing it very slowly before Jake shifts in his sleep, releasing me for a second. I quickly turn before he’s hauling me back into him in a spoon hold. His body behind me, both arms coming around me snugly, one leg lifting over mine and pulling them against his, so I am pulled in tight once more, and my butt is nestled in his groin.
For the love of God, Jake!
I can barely move again as he’s managed to pin my arms against my chest, his nose nuzzled into the back of my neck, so his breath tickles my skin below the collar of my oversized nightshirt. I wonder at this position how I’m completely relaxed, no warning signals going off in my brain, no fear or awkwardness, no nerves, because it’s Jake, and with Jake, that all stopped a long time ago. I wonder how many poor teddy bears in his childhood died this way.
“Emma,” Jake mutters in his sleep, and I still to listen. I gasp as his hold tightens a bit too firmly. I wonder what he’s dreaming about and wonder if it’s a dream that has him grasping onto me for dear life. It would explain the death grip.
“I’ll kill him!” he growls into my hair, and his body tenses; my heart constricts, causing a wave of fear to wash over me. He’s dreaming about Vanquis; I know he is. Maybe that’s why he has been wrapped around me all night, holding me close, protecting me, more affected by it than I was, evidently.
I wriggle my arms free of his vice-like grip and try to pull them loose so I can breathe; it is like being squeezed by an octopus, its limbs wrapped all around me, trying to expel the air from my body. I pull at his bare forearms, managing to expand the space around my ribs just enough to take a breath. I tug some more, circling his wrists, releasing myself just enough to sag away from his body a few inches. I glance back at his sleeping face; his T-shirt has ridden up, showing off the sculpted abdomen and the start of his tattoos on his ribs. He is the ultimate specimen of a man in every detail.
I turn completely around to face him, still held firmly in his embrace. I study his face, the shadow of his ever-present stubble and the chiseled features that grace magazines frequently. He’s perfection in every line and curve. Thick eyebrows, and eyelashes so dark they’re almost black, urge me to reach up and trace his sleeping features with my fingertips. I’m shocked by its intensity and try to move away to give myself some breathing space.
My movement away from him triggers another sleepy reaction, and he reaches out to me, his eyes still closed, his face still relaxed in slumber. His hand grazes my breast on its way to my throat; he cups my jaw and pulls me forward so we’re nose to nose, and he exhales softly. Our mouths are only a hairbreadth apart, his forehead against mine, and we inhale the same air. My body jumps into high alert, my breath held from the moment his fingers grazed the intimate parts of my chest, and I’m tingling with so many sensations that I can’t explain what I’m feeling.
The fact that his action was innocent quells any fear; there’s no panic in my response, no fluttering stomach. Instead, the intimacy is sending me haywire.
Without thought, I lean up gently and kiss his mouth lightly, a slight touching of the lips, almost chaste. I don’t know what makes me do it. I’ve no reasoning or thought in my head, only this need to feel his mouth on mine. His soft, warm, full lips enticed me for just a moment to see how it felt again, pushed on by the proximity and gentle warmth of his breath against my own. My body reacts low down inside, spreading heat through my pelvis and shivers down my legs.
I’m playing with danger, and trepidation is beginning to rise within me, fear at my reaction to him. He smells familiar, his mouth too alluring. I peck him on the lips again, only slightly firmer this time, urged on by something inside me. But this time, he responds, his mouth parting slightly, and he kisses me back, pushing his mouth to mine.
I freeze. My heart rate escalates into a frenzy, and I hold still, very, very still. He doesn’t open his eyes or move. He just inhales heavily, indicating he’s still asleep.
Crap. What the hell am I doing?
I try to move away, no longer able to trust myself, but his hand on my jaw tenses and pulls my face forward as he sinks his lips to mine. It’s tender at first, my heart pounding, my head spinning, and every part of my body responds with a vengeance. I open my mouth to his advance as his hand slides down to my breast once more, lying over it and cupping it while my body sizzles under his palm. His lips move against mine seductively, kissing me, no tongues, but it feels like the most erotic thing in the world.
Jake kisses precisely as I expected him to. Mind-blowing and experienced. His mouth matches mine in soft, grazing movements making me lightheaded, and my breathing turns shallow. I allow my hands to wander up to his face and trace his square jawline softly, bringing us closer together. He feels so good! His face is firm, and I want this more than I should. I let myself move into the touch and let it continue, lost in how he feels and tastes.
His hand moves down boldly, curling behind my butt, and pulls me into his groin, making it clear he’s aroused, his hard body pressing into my pelvis. I groan involuntarily, closing my eyes tighter, letting him take control, ignoring the little voices in my head trying to pull me away. His lips part further, pressing into mine, and his tongue slides into my mouth, setting me alight with passion, deepening it. It’s erotic and intense; the sensation causes my stomach to flutter and flip. His tongue feels divine, and I respond with a longing I never knew I was capable of as his arms come around me suggestively, breath hitching between us. He tastes like heaven, and I’m lost in what we are doing for minutes, all reason floating away.
One hand releases me to latch onto my thigh, pulling me further up the bed, and putting it around his waist, grinding our pelvises together. He maneuvers over me, his body weight pressing down, and our groins rammed snugly against one another. I can feel everything, my body sizzling with the sensations and shallow and fast breathing. The passion ignited fully; his hands and arms cage my head, and my fingers cup his jaw, pulling him closer, mouths thoroughly intertwined, his stubble grazing my soft face.
Hell!
Log in with Google Account
Chapters
Favorite
Settings
