“Come here,” I demand.
He rises slowly, his face flushed, his lips swollen and glistening. I kiss him deeply, tasting myself on his mouth, and the intimacy of it makes me shudder.
“No one has ever...”
He smiles against my lips, looking almost shy despite the intensity of what we just shared. “I wanted to make sure you?—”
“You definitely did,” I assure him, pulling him closer.
“Let’s get you to bed,” he murmurs against my ear, his arms sliding around my waist with tender care. “You’ve had enough exertion for tonight.”
I want to protest, to tell him I’m not fragile, but the truth is my shoulder is throbbing and my body feels like liquid warmth. I let him help me to my feet. Jonah grabs my leggings, and slides them up my legs. Max lifts his head from the bed, watching us with sleepy eyes before settling back down with a huff.
As we reach the bed, Jonah gently helps me lie down before climbing in beside me. The mattress dips under his weight, and I instinctively curl toward him, seeking his warmth. His arm wraps around me, careful to avoid my injured shoulder, pulling me close against his chest.
“This okay?” he asks, his lips brushing my hair.
“More than okay,” I whisper, my cheek pressed against his racing heart. His cologne fills my senses, mingling with the scent of our shared pleasure.
I should say something about what just happened. About what it means. But the comfortable silence feels right, natural in a way I can’t explain. My eyelids grow heavy as exhaustion from the day finally catches up with me.
“Get some sleep,” Jonah says, his voice a soothing rumble beneath my ear. “Tomorrow’s going to be intense.”
“Mmm,” I agree, already drifting. The last thing I feel is his lips pressed gently against my forehead as sleep claims me.
JONAH
Somethingcold and wet presses against my face, dragging me from the depths of sleep. I bat it away, rolling over with a groan. The digital clock on the nightstand reads 4:36 AM in angry red numerals. Too early for anything important.
The cold nose returns, insistent this time, jabbing at my cheek with more purpose.
“Max,” I mutter, half-trapped in the dream I was having—Lila beneath me, her hands fisted in my shirt, that sound she made when I slid my fingers inside her playing on a loop in my sleep-addled brain. My cock is painfully hard against themattress, and I press my hips down just slightly, chasing the ghost of the fantasy before it evaporates entirely. “Not now.”
A wet tongue drags across my jaw.
I groan, squeezing my eyes shut tighter. The dream was so vivid I can still feel the phantom weight of her thighs around my hips, the exact way her breath hitched when I?—
Max whines. Low. Close to my ear.
“Buddy. Please.”
Another nudge.
I crack one eye open. Max’s golden face fills my entire field of vision, his brown eyes wide and earnest, tail thumping once against the comforter in greeting. His nose is literally touching mine.
“Go away.”
He doesn’t go away. He sits. Patient. Staring.
I turn my head toward the clock again, as if the numbers might have changed in the last twenty seconds. They haven’t. 4:36 AM continues to mock me from the nightstand.
The wet nose returns, this time accompanied by a whine that escalates into an urgent huff.
Instead of listening, he paws at my shoulder, his nails digging in with surprising force. When I don’t respond, he lets out a single, sharp bark that seems to echo through our motel room.
I push myself up, suddenly more alert. Max has hardly barked in the time he’s been with us. Something’s wrong. I find Lila’s sleeping form on the other side of the bed, her injured arm cradled protectively against her chest. She doesn’t stir. I can rule her out as the source of his concern.
“What is it, boy?” I whisper, swinging my legs over the side of the bed.
