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I’m beyond snapping, beyond ready. I’m already in a million pieces that have shot in a million different directions like bomb particles.
What do I want now? It’s obvious in my breathing and if Jago could read my mind, he’d be entertained at the scene playing therein. In technicolour, so vivid, it’s difficult to tell them apart from reality, so vivid it frightens me. Because if I can fantasise as much as I want, there’s no turning back from the real thing. Because if Stephen made me feel grounded, with Jago I’m lost at sea, with nothing to hang on to but the waves of our emotions.
‘You’re determined to make me misbehave, aren’t you?’ he murmurs as I reach up to pull him closer.
As if plunged into a world of our own, made of Jago and me, I have no choice but to let go to the greater force of instinct. Iwanthim. Like I’ve never wanted anyone in my life. I know it’ll never lead to anything, but desire doesn’t stop to think about the whys and wherefores –least of all the afterwards. Desire is an overwhelming force of nature, like the storm that we’ve just survived, and I’m right in the midst of it.
Like in a daze, my eyes barely register my dark surroundings as Jago, lying above me while resting his upper body on his elbows so as not to crush me, pushes back my hair to cradle my head in his strong hands. With a slowness that frustrates me beyond belief, he studies my face for what seems years before he takes my mouth in a kiss that completely undoes me, his mouth claiming me with an intimacy I’d never felt before with anyone.
With Jago, no words are needed. He speaks to me with his body. And I know he wants me as much as I want him. I don’t need to be reassured of anything but the heat in his body against mine and the desire that it emanates. I don’t know how it happened, but this man, whom I’ve known for the best part of five minutes, is suddenly the centre of my universe, the only thing my body craves or cares about.
*
When I wake, I find myself still wrapped in his arms. From his steady breathing and relaxed muscles, I know he’s asleep. And yet his arms still protect me. How many times had I lain next to Stephen, wide-eyed and staring at his back? How many times have I been led to believe that that’s all there is to it?
But Jago… holding Jago is like touching lightning bolts with your bare hands.
And just as I think I’ll pass out if he ever touches me again, he reaches out and pulls me back against his chest, wrapping his arms around me once again.
‘You warm enough?’ he whispers into my ear and I nod, shivering in delight at the contact.
How have I managed to live until now without feeling this way? But I haven’t lived. I’ve only existed. BecausethisJago – who after a night of wild sex is now tenderly kissing the side of my face while making sure not an inch of my body is exposed to the night air –thisis the Jago to remember.
I rest my head against his chest, listening to the reassuring sound of his heartbeat.
‘Emmie?’ he whispers above the sound of the crackling fire.
‘Hmm…?’
‘We’ve got a bit of a problem…’
I turn my head to look up at him. His stubble is growing back and I gently run the side of my finger over it. He pulls me up to stand, blankets sliding to my feet as he clears his throat.
‘I’ve tried my best, Emmie, but I think I’ve gone and fallen in love with you…’
Love. Helovesme.
This is it. The defining moment when the damsel and the knight pledge their eternal love to one another and live happily ever after. The moment that poems, plays, books, music and every form of art are based on.Love. The thing that everyone throughout history and fiction has striven for. The ultimate goal.
I rise to my tiptoes to kiss him. ‘And I love you, Jago Moon,’ I whisper. ‘More than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life…’
‘Oh, Emmie…’ he breathes as his mouth crashes down on mine.
The air is indeed cold against my naked skin, but I don’t care. All I want is to feel Jago against me, from head to foot. I want to feel his muscles and sinews and the blood pulsing through his veins as his breath catches in his throat.
I lift my legs and literally wrap myself around him, and his hands come up to support me as he takes my mouth again.
‘I don’t want to screw it all up, Emmie,’ he breathes between our kisses.
‘You won’t,’ I assure as I grab his head in my hands to make sure he stays close.
‘Oh, but I will. I always do.’
‘It’ll be OK. I promise you, Jago.’
But Jago isn’t listening to me anymore. Back are his demons, haunting him with a vengeance. He lets go of me.
‘Jago?’
