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Chapter Sixteen
Sierra
Soft sunlight danced over Pete’s bare chest. I could hear his heartbeat—slow and steady. Rhythmic, like music, the same faint lullaby I’d fallen asleep to the night before.
I didn’t know why I’d followed him into bed when he’d come up from the bar hours ago. I hadn’t been able to sleep. Something about spending an evening with his friends—everyone so happy and so fulfilled with their partners—made me more alone than I had my entire life.
I just wanted some comfort. A physical tether to keep me grounded.
And he was here, wasn’t he? Warm and hard and… and here. With me. Going through the same emotions and trials as I was about my situation—oursituation.
And that kiss last night had been like being struck by lightning. I couldn’t sleep after that. I lay awake thinking about how his touch had felt on my skin. How that talented mouth had pressedand explored, nipping, sucking. I wanted more. I couldn’t deny it any longer. I wanted more of him—less tiptoeing around each other like there hadn’t been something between us before everything changed.
He stirred in his sleep, a soft murmur causing his chest to tremble as he exhaled. His fingertips danced over my spine. I was wearing one of his shirts—something loose and comfortable I’d pulled out of the dryer when I’d gotten ready for the bed last night. It smelled like him still. It smelled faintly of his cologne, like he’d wearing that stuff every day, with everything he wore, so much so that it was engrained in everything he touched.
I loved it.
I was still on the edge of shallow sleep. I hadn’t realized I’d slipped my leg over his until I felt him move, rolling over slightly to face me. His other hand caressed my cheek, his thumb stroking over my temple and into my hair.
“Why are we fighting against this?” I whispered, half asleep and unsure if I’d even said it out loud. Two weeks of walking on eggshells. Two weeks of awkward, shallow conversation. Two weeks of nothing, when being in his arms felt likeeverything.
“I don’t know,” he whispered back, his voice hoarse and honeyed from sleep. His thumb grazed over my ear, then along my jaw.
I looked up at him then, noticing the sleepy-eyed look he was giving me—like he wasn’t sure if he was dreaming or awake. His eyes opened just a little more with the realization that we were in bed together, and he was naked beside me with my leg draped over his.
And I was in his shirt, with nothing underneath.
Dangerous territory.
I placed a shaking hand on his hard stomach, taking my time as I felt the ridges and grooves of the muscles there. He sucked in a breath as I ran a featherlight touch from hip to hip below his navel.
He’d woken up aroused. Now, more than ever, his desire pressed against my thigh as I took what felt like the biggest risk of my life and shifted just enough that I could plant a gentle kiss on his lips.
His mouth was warm and soft and the kiss was softer and sweeter than any kiss I’d ever been given. It was for him, for us.
“Sierra,” he rasped. The hand on my back stopped its gentle journey up and down my spine and spread wide over my lower back. He pressed me to him and deepened the kiss, inhaling before he took my face in his hands and slid his tongue into my mouth. I gasped as he rolled on top of me, nudging my legs apart. I was so ready for him. So wet.
He whispered my name, his hands gently pushing the hair away from my face. He moved his hips thrust forward and he sheathed himself inside me. I arched my back, crying out at the delicious stretch and fullness.
“Oh, my God,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to mine. “You’re fucking drenched.” He groaned, growling with satisfaction as he slowly pulled out to just the tip and then pressed in again.
I wrapped my arms around his neck as he teased me—rolling his hips and swaying into me.
“Pete, please!” I begged, which elicited a boyish smirk from him.
“I plan to take my sweet time,” he whispered against my cheek, then kissed me hungrily, sucking and nibbling on my lower lip as I cursed and arched into his thrust.
He was as close as he could be, his weight pressing me to the mattress. Tension began to build in my stomach and upper thighs until I was rigid with it.
“I’m close,” I panted, closing my eyes. “Oh, please, I—”
He rose up above me, taking my hips and driving into me hard enough to make me cry out. I looked up at him through slits, watching as he bit his lip and rolled his neck like he was holding back. I ran my hands down his chest, then his thighs.
I was going to come. I was so, so close. He was close too, already there, but he was waiting for me.
Jonah had never done that. He’d never waited or tried to make me come. I’d faked it, honestly.
“Fuck, Sierra,” Pete rasped, groaning and rocking into me as I circled my clit. He watched me with a feral, hungry look in his eyes that set my skin on fire with desire. “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in my fucking life,” he growled, his entire body trembling as he continued to watch me touch myself.
