I look down at my arms. The light catches there, faint but unmistakable, like I’ve been touched by something ethereal.
“That’s the corniest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I tell him, but I’m smiling.
“Doesn’t make it less true.“
He turns me to face him, his hands coming up to cup myface, thumbs brushing my cheekbones. The cold has turned his fingers icy, but I don't care.
"Maya—"
"Don't. Not yet. Whatever you're about to say, just don't."
Because I know what's coming, I can feel it in the way he's looking at me. And if he says it, I'll have to say it, and once we say it, there's no taking it back.
Instead, he kisses me.
It's soft at first, gentle, then it deepens and turns into something desperate. His hands slide down to my waist, pulling me against him.
The blanket falls from my shoulders. I'm just in sleep shorts and a tank top, and the cold makes my nipples harden immediately, visible through the thin fabric.
Jackson notices. His hand comes up to cup my breast through my shirt, thumb brushing over the peaked nipple.
"You're freezing," he says against my mouth.
"Don't care."
"We should go inside."
"Not yet."
His mouth drops to my neck, then lower. He pulls down the strap of my tank top, exposing my breast to the cold night air, and then his mouth is on me, tongue warm against frozen skin, sucking my nipple until I moan.
"Shh." His hand comes up to cover my mouth. "Emma and Chase are right inside."
The reminder of the risk makes everything hotter. We're on the balcony, anyone could see, Emma could wake up and come downstairs, and Chase could look out the window.
And I don't care.
Jackson's other hand slides into my sleep shorts, finding me already wet and ready. His fingers move expertly, but slowly this time, teasing rather than giving me what I need.
"Jackson—" His name comes out muffled against his palm.
"Patience," he whispers. "We have time."
He circles my clit with maddening lightness, never quite giving me the pressure I need. His mouth works my breast, alternating between gentle licks and harder suction that makes my knees weak.
I push into his hand, seeking more friction, but he just chuckles against my skin.
"Desperate for it, aren't you?" His fingers slide lower, teasing my entrance but not entering. "Tell me what you want."
I pull his hand from my mouth. "You. I want you."
"You have me." He slips a finger inside, finally, curling it just right, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning. "But I'm taking my time with you tonight."
He works me slowly, building the pleasure in waves, adding a second finger and finding that sweet spot. His thumb brushes my clit with each stroke, but never stays there long enough, keeping me on edge.
"Please," I breathe.
"Please, what?"
