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The comforter was slowly peeled away, the cool air hitting me, and a gentle hand swept across my cheek.
"Jess," he said, his voice raspy. "What's wrong?"
I turned my face away, not sure if I could speak over the huge lump closing off my throat.
"Are you sick?" he asked. "Seriously, I need to know if you're okay."
Swallowing hard, I finally managed to speak. "Devon and I broke up. He slept with the wedding planner."
"Oh, God."
At the concern in his tone, I wept once again, curling into myself, trying to stop the pain. I felt movement on the bed, but I didn't dare turn around. I hated for Josh to see me like this. Again.
And shocking the hell out of me, so much so that I stopped crying, I felt him lay his body down right behind me, his chest against my back. His arm came around me, finding my hand, his strong fingers intertwining with mine. His face was so close, I could feel his warm breaths against my skin.
"I'm sorry," he whispered as that warmness spread and my hair tickled my shoulder. "I'm so sorry."
For minutes, we lay there, silent, Josh holding me.
Squeezing me closer to him, I didn't know what to think, what to feel. Everything in my head was a big, confusing jumble of tangled emotions, bound together by loss.
But one thing rising from the web of confusion that I could identify easily?
Desire. Desire for Josh.
I gripped his hand harder, pressing it to my stomach, right under my breasts. Pushing my body back into his, I became aware of his every breath, the rise and fall of his chest behind me, each exhale against my hair.
His warmness infused me, sending spirals of comfort around my wounded soul.
Never in a million years would I have expected this reaction from him. It was like he was trying to take away my sadness and pain with his body. I could feel that from him. I could feel his intent.
"Thank you," I said softly, my tears completely gone now, a rising need growing within me.
Slowly, I began to shift my body, turning around, inch by agonizing inch, Josh's hand letting me go while I moved to face him. And when I finally did, his intense eyes captivated me as I stared into his, so close I could see flecks of gray that I'd never noticed before.
Reaching up, I traced the ridge of his strong brow with my finger, then his cheek, gradually moving my way towards his lips, those lips I hadn't dared look at in the past, lips that I studied now—full, sensual, and oh so kissable.
Our breaths mingled in the closeness. Our breathing synced up.
Anticipation shot through my veins. Need flooded me. A need to be held. A need to be loved.
"Make me forget," I pleaded.
For a long moment, I didn't think he heard me. Neither of us moved. Neither of us breathed.
My gaze traveled from his lips to his eyes. And oh, dear Lord, his eyes were full of heat, reflecting back everything I was feeling, every desire, every need.
"Please," I whispered.
Before I could blink, Josh's lips crashed down on mine in a blaze of passion that swept through my entire body.
Oh, my God, he tasted like heaven. Our lips molded together, moving together so perfectly that I could hardly believe it.
How many guys had I kissed? Countless guys, to be honest. Some of them had been terrible or just all right. Some of them were pretty great. A few, like Devon, had even set off fireworks.
But Josh's kiss melted my soul, melted the ice that had formed around my crushed heart.
His mouth... his lips were everything I didn't know I needed.
