“I don’t want a plan or a list, I wantyou. Today. Tomorrow. Forever. I want to hold your hand and be your shoulder to lean on. We don’t need to start over—that suggests I have regrets. When it comes to you, Sofía, I have none. I wouldn’t trade a single moment for a different version. Because if I did, then who knows if I would have fallen in love with you.”
A garbled sound climbs up my throat, and his thumb tips my chin. “I love you,” he says with steadfast conviction. “The strength of which I didn’t know was possible. I’m not great at love confessions—I don’t have much practice in that department—but I promise to remember your coffee order and to keep a glass of water on the nightstand. To always order mac and cheese and not laugh when you wear your red-light mask. To love you loudly and quietly and all the ways in between.”
Tears spring to my eyes, and I sniff them away before my mascara smears. “You areverygood at love confessions,” I tell him. “But I don’t want to cry, so you’re not allowed to say anything else.”
“Not even that you look beautiful?” His lips tug into a wry smile.
“I guess you can say that.”
“Or that our friends are all watching us?”
He spins me by the shoulders, and there they are, all piled in the doorframe. Charlie. Mateo. Amy. Oliver. Vivian. They offer waves and smiles and one loud wolf whistle before I’m spun again. Jett stares down at me, wonder in his soft hazel eyes.
“They’re nosy,” I grumble, fixing his bow tie again to busy my hands. “Go away,” I shout over my shoulder.
His chest rumbles with laughter beneath my palms, and once he peers down at me, I assume the peanut gallery has dispersed. His lips press tender kisses along the column of my neck, and he murmurs against my skin. “I want you,” he admits, fingers finding the slit of my dress, a wake of searing heat trailing behind his movements. “Am I banned from saying that, too?”
My breath hitches as he finds the lace hem of my panties, gently tugging the elastic and releasing it. The fabric snaps against my skin, and he nibbles on my collarbone, no doubt leaving a small mark.
I should push him away, tell him we need to return to the event, that we have all the time in the world for this later, but a frenzy overtakes me as he slips past the thin barrier and finds my slit.
“Jett,” I moan, clutching his forearm as he draws circles around my clit. “We’re in an alley.”
Quicker than lightning, he releases me, bolting to the door to peek inside. He turns, a rakish grin tipping up his lips, and then he drags me through the threshold. My heart thumps in my chest as we sprint down the empty hallway.
A jerk left, and we’re in a storage closet, the latch echoing shut behind us. Jett blocks the door with a cart and makes me his target, closing the space between us in three steps.
“I love you,” I whisper as he hikes me into the air, the hem of my dress pooling around my waist.
I’ve spoken the words before, but those felt hollow and untrue compared to this. The declaration isn’t strong enough to convey the emotion taking root in my chest, growing strong and deep like a sequoia.
Affection shines in Jett’s eyes, and I wrap my arms around his neck, our faces an inch apart.
“Te amo,” he replies, fingers digging into my hip. “Did I say that right?”
It requires effort to calm the giddy, overwhelmed smile causing my lips to twitch, but it breaks free as he repeats it again and again, each time more reverent than the last.
He kisses me again, deep and slow, and the energy builds in my blood, my need for him growing with every touch and graze along my body. Gentle movements morph into frenzied motions, and I find the buckle of his belt, attempting to undo the latch.
A low rumble erupts from Jett, and he flicks open his zipper with ease. His cock springs out, hard and thick against my clit, and I moan into his shoulder, muffling the sound in his suit jacket.
“Gotta be quiet,” he reminds me, the laughter and music from the main area faint in the storage room.
One arm keeps me raised and pressed against the wall, and his other guides the tip of his cock over my clit so many times I see stars. The fabric does nothing to quell the heat burning through me.
“Stop teasing me, and I’ll be quiet,” I reply.
“You’ve never been quiet.” A satisfied smirk follows the declaration. “Where’s your bag?”
My purse sits on the floor with my jacket, and he perches me on the small table and leans over to dig through the smaller pouches inside. The flimsy furniture is the only thing keeping me standing.
“What are you searching for?” The question comes out breathless and needy. “We were in the middle of something, in case you forgot.”
“Aha!” Jett spins, victorious, with my seashell pouch in his hand.
Oh my god.
The foil of the condom wrapper crinkles as he tears it open with his teeth and rolls the latex down his shaft. There’s no lead-up, no fanfare. Perched on the edge of the table, I make space for him between my thighs.
