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My hands instinctively rise to cup his head and my short nails rake through his hair. He sighs contentedly, and I do it again.
I knew Jake would be a great lover, I just never expected him to be so affectionate. So willing to give affection and comfort, and so desperate to receive it. It makes my heart ache for what he missed out on as a kid.
“You need a haircut,” I tell him, kissing his temple and making lazy figure eights against the dense pile of dark brown hair. “I can’t believe how fast your hair grows.”
“I need you,” he mutters against my skin, the feeling heightened by the rasp of his voice and the kisses that follow.
There’s always the slightest edge of desperation in the way Jake makes love to me. As if he doesn’t seize what he wants right this minute, he may never get it, the latter being completely intolerable to him.
Cupping my butt, he pulls me closer to the edge of the counter and steps between my legs, pressing his body against mine. “This is for you,” he murmurs, flexing his hips.
As if we hadn’t already made love this morning at the break of dawn and once again in the shower.
Only our underwear and my oversized t-shirt separate us, and yet the clothes only serve to heighten the sensation. He flexes his hips again, and I almost come from that alone. “Only you…” I feel the gentle scrape of teeth where his lips have been.
Pushing against me, he sets a steady rhythm, and before long, I am seconds from going off. “Don’t come yet,” he growls.
I barely remember my first name and he wants me to follow orders? “I’m coming,” I warn him.
Shoving down his boxers, he yanks my underwear aside and enters me––the scream torn from my chest as I come.
Holding me tightly, both of us breathing heavy, Jake waits for me to finish to starts moving in a wickedly lazy rhythm intended to drive me insane. It’s controlled and steady, and exactly what my body needs to reboot and begin the slow climb back up to free fall.
“Jake…Jake…” His name means all things to me. Love and friendship and everything good. Everything I’ve been looking and hoping for. And since I can’t say any of that. Since I can’t tell him how I feel. I say his name.
Digging my heels into his bubble butt, I urge him on. And being generous to a fault, he does. He gives it to me. He lets go of his vaunted control and gives me everything he’s got. And when he comes, I do too. We do it together. Two loners who found someone to need.
“Is this supposed to be fun? Give me a head’s up when we get to the fun part,” I say, wheezing.
We’ve been hiking up the mountain for the better part of two hours and according to the man I am madly in love with, we’ve got one more to go. “Seriously?” He’s not listening to me, his bubble butt keeps moving up the steep incline. Thank God for hockey butt; at least the view is worth it. “Jake! I need to stop and check some stuff…for work.”
“You’re not checking Twitter.”
“I am. It’s my job.”
He chuckles, but at least he stops and turns. “That is not your job. Your job is to write. Twitter is for a bunch of people with a ton of anger who want someone to take it out on without ending up in divorce court or with a restraining order.”
He’s not wrong. “Yeah, but it’s good for business, you cynic.”
My feet can’t do it anymore. I sit my ass down on a flat rock, take off my backpack, fish out my water bottle and, you guessed it, my phone. “Some of us like to be part of society. But you go on ahead, Captain America. I’ll catch up in a bit.”
“There are black bears all over this mountain.”
“Then come back here and protect me.”
“Told you it wouldn’t hurt to build a little muscle.” He smirks.
“I am building muscle. I get a serious work-out at least twice a day now. Coached by a world-class athlete…although I’m not fond of his attitude right now.”
He walks over, watching as I lift my arm up to try and catch a signal. One second later, I no longer have a phone because I watch it soar through the air in a gentle arc and land in a deep gorge.
I scream. “My phone!!”
“I’ll get you another one.”
I am in shock. Barely able to breathe. Jake leans down and kisses me. When I don’t kiss him back because I’m in shock, he kisses me again.
“Tomorrow,” I growl. “The second we get back. You’re buying me a new one.”
He chuckles drily and takes a pull of his water. Meanwhile, I’m in deep, deep mourning for my phone.
