“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, trailing kisses along her shoulder.
He reached for the nightstand drawer, fingers finding the foil packet he kept there. The moment felt surreal, something he’d imagined too many times to count but never thought would actually happen again. Avery watched him as he tore the wrapper and rolled on the condom, her gaze heated and tender at once.
When he returned to her, he kissed her slowly, deeply, pouring everything he couldn’t say into the press of his lips. His hands traced her sides, her hips, learning the landscape of her body. She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he positioned himself above her.
“Avery,” he whispered against her mouth, giving her one last chance to change her mind.
She answered by kissing him, her legs parting to welcome him. Jackson pushed forward slowly, watching her face, feeling her body accept him inch by inch. The sensation stole his breath—the warmth, the tightness, the rightness of being joined with her.
A broken sound escaped his throat as he fully seated himself. He stilled, overwhelmed, forehead pressed to hers as they both adjusted to the intimacy of it.
“Okay?” he managed.
“Perfect,” she breathed, her fingers digging into his shoulders. “Move. Please.”
He did, pulling back and thrusting forward in a slow, steady rhythm. Every stroke felt like coming home. Her soft sounds of pleasure, the way she moved with him, the heat of her skin against his—it was almost too much.
Jackson knew this wouldn’t last long. The tension had been building, and now that he finally had her, his control was hanging by a thread. He tried to slow down, to make it last, but Avery wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and rational thought scattered.
“God, Avery,” he groaned, his rhythm faltering. “I can’t—this is—”
“I know,” she gasped. “Me too.”
He buried his face in her neck, breathing in her scent as he moved faster. Her nails scraped down his back, and she tightened around him in a way that made stars burst behind his eyelids. The pleasure built and built, coiling tighter with each thrust.
When her breath hitched and her body tensed beneath him, Jackson knew she was close. He slipped a hand between them, wanting to bring her over the edge, needing to feel her fall apart.
“Jackson,” she cried out, and then she was shuddering around him, her body clenching in waves of release.
The sight of her, the sound of his name on her lips, the feel of her climax—it shattered him. Jackson thrust once, twice more, and then he was gone, tumbling over the edge into blinding pleasure. He groaned her name as he came, his whole body shaking with the force of it.
He collapsed beside her, gathering her close, both of them breathing hard. His heart thundered against his ribs, and he felt utterly undone.
Hours wouldn’t have been enough. A lifetime might not be enough.
Avery turned her face into his chest, her fingers tracing idle patterns on his skin. “That was…” She trailed off.
“Yeah,” he agreed, pressing a kiss to her hair. “It was.”
And it was everything.
Chapter Eighteen
Avery blinked awake, the room washed in the amber glow of a single lamp. For a second she couldn’t place where she was. Then the warmth beside her registered. The solid weight of Jackson’s arm across her waist, his steady breathing brushing her shoulder.
She was naked. So was he. The sheets tangled around them, warm from shared heat. Her muscles felt liquid, the ache that had lived in her body finally eased.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually slept. Not a doze on a couch or a few restless hours between nightmares. Real sleep. The kind that left her heavy and boneless.
Her phone screen on the nightstand glowed 9:02 p.m. They’d been out for hours.
Noah had been right. They’d needed the rest.
Apparently, sex—good sex—could do what adrenaline and caffeine couldn’t. But the thought carried a bitter edge. The warmth couldn’t reach past the walls of Jackson’s bedroom. It couldn’t find Megan and Riley. It couldn’t name the person who’d put a target on her back.
It couldn’t change what any of them had already lost.
She lay still, staring at the ceiling while Jackson’s heartbeat thudded against her spine, and let herself feel the weight of the quiet. It was a rare, stolen peace, fragile and fleeting, and she knew the second they stepped back into the world, it would shatter.
