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I can't resist, pushing my body back into him with a low moan. Jonas's hand freezes inches from my face, a slice of orange at the ready. He drops the fruit, and puts his hand over my throat. His voice is hoarse when he speaks. "Janey?"
"Jonas," I squeak. I clear my throat and plant my hands on the counter. I turn my head, the faint light streaming in lets me see his shadowed face. "I um... I've been meaning to talk to you. About us."
His eyes search mine, and the hand on my throat tightens just the tiniest bit. He's nowhere near hurting me, and the possessiveness in his grip is really getting to me. "What about us? Are you having more doubts? Because — “
I groan and reach back for him, cupping one hand on the back of his neck. The other covers his hand on the counter, and drags it to my stomach and slowly, slowly pushes it down until his fingers are in the waistband of my leggings. A wheezing sound escapes him, and I briefly wonder if I'm gripping him too tightly. I release him, and put my hands back on the countertop. Jonas doesn't move, breathing heavily in my ear, his entire body ridged.
Do I apologize? Do I laugh this off? Do I run out into the cold and bury my head in a snowdrift?
When his hand moves, sliding further into my leggings, fingers searching until he's wiggled under the band of my panties too, I forget my name. When his fingers brush through my curls, and dive into my wetness, I forget everything else. All I am is sensation.
"Janey," he breathes, dropping his lips to my neck. "Are we doing this? I'm on the edge of imploding, so I really don't know if I can handle playing right now."
"I'm not playing," I murmur, dropping my head back onto his shoulder. "I want you. I want to feel you in me. I'm done waiting."
35
JONAS
It's requiring a ton of effort to string a simple sentence together. But I need to make sure I don't fuck this up. "Are you sure?"
She groans and shifts her hips, pushing into my hand. I'm trapped between her heat, and the edge of the counter. She feels desperate. I feel desperate.
But I won't risk us.
"I'm not going to change my mind. I promise."
I should leave it at that. I should give in. But I can't. Not yet. "What's changed?"
Her body freezes, and she turns her head back, letting me see her face.
"Everything," she whispers. "Everything's changed."
She means it. I see it in her eyes, and in every line of her body. My control snaps. She's in this with me. She's going to fight for us. I feel it.
I'm not a saint. I never wanted to be. I didn't plan on being a virgin in my thirties. But I was waiting for the right woman. For this woman. And she wants me to take her.
Reality tries to intrude. This is an office. The janitorial staff will be in soon. One of my brothers could come back to catch up on work. This could go from private to fully exposed quickly. The caveman side of me, the one so thrilled to have Janey touching my leg that I had to show my brother, would like to be discovered. I want everyone to see how incredible Janey is. I want them to see how worthy I am, because she chose me.
I'm not putting a pause on anything.
Swiping my fingers through the moisture at her core, I roll and play with her clit. She rewards me with another twist of her hips, and a moan. Janey's moans are the best sound in the world. Her pulse is beating wildly under my hand. Shifting my grip, I tilt her chin and bring her mouth to mine. I haven't had my hands on her enough the last few weeks. And she's all I've thought about since she let me taste her. I want more, desperately.
I love kissing. Or, more specifically, I love kissing Janey. Her softness and the taste of the orange on her lips are bombarding me with sensations. I'm worn down, an exposed nerve from a long day and an even longer week, so I have no ability to resist her. Not that I want to. But this isn't what I imagined for us. I reluctantly pull my mouth from hers.
"I thought we'd have a bed, and we'd be able to take our time. I wasn't prepared for this."
Janey's gasping up at me, then shakes her head. "We don't need a bed," she says on a moan and rolls her hips again. Maybe I should stop playing with her and give her time to speak.
I'm not going to. I don't plan on stopping until she's shaking in my arms. Falling apart. I crave it.
"I have a condom in my wallet," I murmur between kisses on her neck, and into the V of her shirt. "I've been practicing. I can get it on without breaking it. And I'm mostly used to the feel." I only lasted ten seconds the first time before I had to yank it off. I don't like the constriction, but I've gotten used to it. For Janey, I'll get used to anything.
"Good," she says faintly, leaning back to give me more access. Frustrated by our position, I pull my hand from her pants and spin her in my arms. She groans, and I hear the complaint in it. Is it bad that I like making her wait? Maybe it's a bit of petty revenge, but I can live with that because I will be making her feel really good, really soon.
Gripping the back of her thighs, I lift her onto the counter, then line us up. It's the perfect height. I have to wonder if someone planned that or if luck is just on my side. She gasps and throws her arms around my neck. Staring down at her, I see the error of my ways.
I back up, pull her off the counter, and drop to my knees. "I should have taken these off first. I wasn't thinking. There's no blood left in my brain." I yank her pants and panties down and help her slip them off her feet. I leave her socks on, so her toes stay warm. I give into my instincts and bury my face in the cleft of her thighs, breathing deeply.
