Falling In (34 page)

              I can feel his smile against my lips, but it doesn’t last long before our sweet embrace turns into a full on make-out session. Enduring our side-by-side position for a bit too long, Jake finally gets fed up and grips my hips with his strong hands, pulling me on top of him. He sits up so I’m straddling him, my dress riding up to my upper thighs. His hands take full advantage, moving up and down my exposed skin, setting off an explosion of tingles along my limbs.

              I weave my fingers through his thick, dark hair as my lips continue to explore his. I can feel the strain in his pants against my ass, and I’m getting so turned on as his hands creep up my dress, stopping right at the edge of my panties. I know we should stop. We’re getting close to the point of no return here. But my willpower is waning fast, and I just want to give in.

              I just want
him
.

              My body starts moving on its own accord, grinding against his jeans, while Jake’s hands clench my skin so tight, I’m afraid he might draw blood. In the moment, I really don’t give a shit. I just want his tongue to keep assaulting mine the way that it is.

              “Pixie. Baby.” He breathes out as he moves his mouth to my neck.

              “Oh goddess. What?” Goose bumps cover my entire body now, and my downstairs is begging me to let him inside. And Lord help me, I am a single request away from giving him everything. But with that fleeting thought, Jake’s mouth stops moving, and I hear him sigh against my neck.

              “We have to stop now. If we go at this any longer, I won’t be able to control myself,” he admits.

              “I know. I think I’ve reached my breaking point.”

              He slowly removes his hands from underneath my dress and brings them to my face, tucking stray curls behind my ears. His eyes penetrate mine, and all I see is his love for me. It shines through so brightly, it’s almost blinding.

              “A month ago, I would’ve taken you right here, right now, not giving two fucks whether you’re available or not. But now—I don’t want to be the other guy. I want to be
the
guy. Your guy.” He admits, wincing in what looks like embarrassment. “God, I sound like a pussy, don’t I?” I smile and kiss his palms that are still cupping my face.

              “No, you don’t sound like a pussy. It’s sweet and honest and makes me—” I trail off, shaking my head. I’m afraid to say what I’m really thinking. Afraid to say too much. But of course he won’t let me get away with that.
Should’ve known
.

              He’s such a persistent asshole.

              “Makes you what?” I shake my head again in protest, but his inquisitive green eyes bore into mine, willing me to answer. “Pixie. Please.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand. A need.

              “When you stay stuff like that, and when you do stuff like this—holding my face in your hands like I’m this precious entity—it makes it so damn hard not to fall in.”

              “Fall in what?”

              I shut my eyes tightly and say the words that could alter my entire life, forever.  

              “Fall in love with you.”

              Once the words leave my mouth, I open my eyes and am met with the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, and before I know it, Jake’s lips are back on mine. The kiss is bursting with emotion. I can feel his love and his worry, his happiness and his remaining reservations with every move of his mouth, every caress of his tongue.

              “You just might be the death of me, beautiful.” He sighs after releasing my face from his grasp.

              “I know what you mean,” I whisper back. “So what now?”

              “Now, I might have to take a long, cold shower. You wanna change and maybe watch TV in bed or read a book while I’m in there?”

              “This sounds vaguely familiar.” I say with a smirk, remembering the intensely hot and slightly embarrassing event from earlier today. He returns my smirk, no doubt thinking about the same thing.

              “Now I
really
need to take a shower.”

              “Well, you do that, and I’ll run back home and grab pajamas.” I tell him, getting up from his bed.

              “No way. You don’t need pajamas.”

              “Jake. If we are going to keep things platonic, I definitely need pajamas.”

              “You can borrow something of mine. I don’t want you leaving the house. You’ll think too much over there, and probably won’t come back, and I won’t be able to do a damn thing about it.” He goes over to his closet and begins to search for something. I’m about to protest again when I’m hit in the face with a t-shirt. “There you go. Pajamas.”

              I pick the shirt up off the floor and hold it up, smiling when I see it’s an old, worn out New York Dolls tee. “Thank you.”

              “You’re welcome. All right, I’ll be five minutes, tops.” He says before placing a kiss on my forehead. “Don’t go anywhere.” He warns, his eyes reducing to slits.

              “I won’t. Promise.”

              “Good girl.” He winks and then turns on his heel, walking purposefully to the bathroom. I wait until I hear the shower turn on before I start to undress. I maneuver my arms out of the straps to my dress, letting it pool to the floor, leaving me in nothing but a pair of tiny black boy shorts. I lift up Jake’s shirt and bring it to my face, taking in the lingering smell of him left on the fabric.

              Not wanting to get caught being a weirdo, I quickly slip it on over my head. I was hoping that since I am so petite, it would be a bit long on me, but he must’ve picked out his smallest damn shirt, because it just barely covers my big ass.

              Crafty bastard.

              I can still hear the shower running, so I go on the hunt for the remote. I don’t have to search for too long, though, finding it on his nightstand on the other side of his bed. When I pick it up, I realize it was laying on top of one of my books. Not the series I gave he has been reading, but my very first novel. He didn’t even tell me he was reading it. I resist the urge to barge into his bathroom and assault his mouth and decide on climbing into his bed instead. I lay down on top of the blanket, stretching my legs out and letting my body mold into his sinfully comfortable mattress.

              I’m just turning on
The Daily Show
when the bathroom door opens and out walks Jake, in nothing but a towel wrapped precariously around his waist. His hair is still wet, allowing beads of water to run down his chest, over his ridiculously toned abs, and landing in the proximity of whatever he has going on behind that towel. I’m definitely experiencing that Emma Stone-Ryan Gosling moment in
Crazy, Stupid, Love
. His abs are so toned, they look spray painted on. They’re
that
perfect. I can’t take my eyes off of him.

              Holy shit, this man is beautiful.

              “Do you need a towel?” he asks, breaking me from my stare-fest.

              “What?” I ask, confusedly.
Why the hell would I need a towel?

              “To wipe the drool dribbling out of your mouth,” he replies with a cocky smirk. I grab a pillow and toss it at him, completely missing him, thanks to his fantastic pillow-dodging skills.

              “Ass.”

              Jake just winks at me, his usual response to his frequently brash behavior.
Ugh
.
Sometimes I just want to poke that winking eye with my finger.

              That thought quickly vanishes—as does my ability to breathe—as he drops his towel. His back is facing me, so I don’t see what he has going on in the front. But what I can see is doing all sorts of things to my body. His ass is, in a word, delectable. But as quickly as it appeared, it goes away. He pulls a pair of boxer briefs up over his behind, thus ending my pervy peepshow.

              Once he turns around, I am met with another knowing smirk. I shrug.

              “Can you blame me?” I say, replying to his unspoken comment.

              “Nah, I can’t. I’m fucking hot as hell.” I burst into laughter, but it quickly subsides once I see the odd look on his face.

              “What is it?”

              He shakes his head back and forth. “I think I might have to take another cold shower, because you, in my shirt, laying in my bed, is fucking blowing my mind. Damn, pixie. You get sexier every day.”

              I feel my cheeks warm as he sidles next to me. “Aren’t you going to put more clothes on?” I ask, half hoping he does, while the other more wicked half hopes he takes off the tight black briefs and shows me what he’s got and just how well he operates it.

             
This is what he does to me. Turns me into some horny, twenty-seven year old sex deviant. 

              “I wasn’t planning on it. I always sleep in my underwear, or nothing at all. But I figured that wouldn’t be appropriate, unless you think you can handle it?” he challenges, his eyes sparking with mischief.

              “For tonight, I think we should stick to the briefs. However, that doesn’t mean I can’t handle it. I can handle
anything
you got.” I reply with an equally playful grin.

              “Fuck.” He breathes out before bringing his mouth to my ear, whispering, “I bet you can. More than any women ever could, and most likely ever will. I can’t wait for you to show me just how much of me you can handle.”

He pulls away from my ear, taking a glimpse of my no doubt lusty and dumbfounded face before covering my mouth with his. Once he pulls away again, I have no idea what I was going to say. All I know is that when he kisses me all I see, all I feel, all I breathe is Jake.

I’ve never felt that way.

Not even with Cole.

“So, what are we watching?” he asks, laying his head back down on his pillow, slipping his arm underneath my neck and pulling me into his nook. I’m still so entranced in all his damn sexiness I don’t answer until I see him looking at me with his eyebrows raised and his mouth tilted up in a knowing, crooked smile.

              “
The Daily Show
.” I finally respond as I shake the dirty thoughts that are vividly flashing through my mind.

              “You need to stop that.”

              “Stop what?” I ask, feigning innocence.

              “You know what.”

              “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” I try my damnedest to say it with a straight face while avoiding his and focusing all of my energy on Jon Stewart.

              “You were looking at me like you wanted me to rip that t-shirt and those tiny as hell panties right off you, spread your thighs as far open as they’ll go, and sink my cock between those lips so deeply you’ll be seeing stars.” My breathing falters and my vision goes hazy as I picture him doing that exact thing. “And I swear to God, it’s taking every shred of my self-control not to do it. So, pixie, stop looking at me like
that
.”

              I somehow manage to mumble an “okay,” although it sounds like some gibberish a mouse would squeak out. I inhale deeply, trying to release this craving that is burgeoning in the pit of my stomach. With tentative eyes, I watch him lay back down and smile as I feel his arm make its way behind my neck again, pulling me closer to him. We both sigh at the same time, mutually feeling the rightness we always seem to experience when I am in his arms.

It takes a few minutes for the sexual tension to die down, but before we know it, we’re laughing hysterically at the TV.
Jon Stewart never fails
.

After a brief excursion downstairs for popcorn and another bottle of wine, we spend the rest of the night watching reruns of
Friends
on TV Land and vegging out in his bed. Aside from not painting our nails or giving each other makeovers, it’s practically a slumber party, and it’s absolutely perfect. It’s exactly what I need right now.

Comfort.

Solace.

Once we finish crushing the second bottle of wine, we’re slightly buzzed—
or at least I am
—and cackling at Jimmy Fallon’s monologue on
The Tonight Show
. All night long, Jake has had to keep at least one hand on me, like he’s scared I’m going to up and leave, or vanish into thin air. Right now he has my feet in his lap, massaging them with his skilled hands. With each stroke and caress and just the right amount of pressure, my whole body liquefies and my eyes can’t help but close.

I hear him whisper “
pixie
” a few times, and I might have gotten out an “
hmmm,
” but other than that, the darkness has a strong hold on me, pulling me into a relaxing state of slumber. But before I’m completely gone, I feel his arms snake underneath my body, moving me back to the top of the bed and sheltering me with his blanket. His lips gently cover mine, and I instinctively moan softly against his mouth.