My mind starts to drift, and the only face I can think of has dark, almost black eyes, stubble on a chiseled jaw, a straight nose. Espresso coloured hair that always has a sexy, unkempt way about it. Soft, plush lips that grazed mine before pressing into them.
All I can think about now is Jett kissing me under the aurora.
Jett kissing me in front of our wedding guests.
Our stolen kiss behind the trees.
In the hall just outside this door.
A surge of warmth coats my fingers as pressure builds at the apex of my thighs.
This is the precipice where I have always turned back, where I’ve always shied away. Where I’ve denied myself of pleasure. Not tonight. Tonight, I resist wanting to squeeze my thighs together to make the feeling go away.
Instead, I lean into it, I embrace it, I open my legs wider and trail my fingers through my wetness, a tingle zipping through my core when I touch myself in one area.
I concentrate my efforts there, as if instinct takes over and drives my fingers to move faster. The pressure builds within me, like an elastic band being pulled taught and then…
Snap.
Everything inside me releases all at once. Stars explode across my field of vision as my body shakes and quivers. A whimper escapes my throat, louder than I intend, and I slap my other hand over my mouth as pleasure crashes over and through me at the same time.
Finally, the crashing waves settle into gentle ripples and then stop. My heart is pounding, chest heaving, and I let out a soft sigh.
A quiet sound drifts under the door from in the hall. Footsteps, maybe.
The lingering heat spreads from my body up to my cheeks as I listen for any more noises.
Was it Jett? Did he hear what I was doing?
I sink back down into the covers and pull the blankets up around my shoulders, turning over to my side and flicking off the bedside lamp. Despite any shreds of embarrassment, my lips curve into a soft smile as I close my eyes.
Because even if Jett did overhear, I think he’d be proud of me.
CHAPTER 31
JETT
“Safety in sports,”Brooke says, enunciating every syllable clearly as if I can’t speak English. “That’s all you need to talk about today.”
Her high heels clack on the sidewalk as we approach Heartwood High. I’m trying to keep up on my crutches. I don’t think I need them anymore, but Mark came by this morning to do a full assessment and see how bad my injury was. He instructed me to use them as much as possible so I don’t put any strain on my knee before the qualifier.
I’m not normally one to followallof Mark’s instructions, but Poppy is a play-by-the-rules kind of gal, so she’s holding me to it.
I don’t even really want to be here today. I’d have been perfectly content having another day on the couch with Poppy and Cordelia, watching movies and knitting, and pretending that we’re the only two people on earth.
But Brooke figured it would be a strategic move to tackle my sordid reputation from other angles, not just my relationship status. So, I’m being dragged to my old high school totell kids not to be like me, I guess. Be an example of whatnotto do.
“Got it,” I answer, holding back an eye roll.
Poppy is following along next to us, nodding in agreement with Brooke’s instructions. After last night, and the sounds I heard coming from her room, I don’t know how I’m supposed to keep myself focused on anything but her.
“Tell them to know their limits, stay in bounds on the ski hill, and most of all, wear their helmets,” she adds. “Divert any other questions and stick to the topic.”
I grumble under my breath, as we walk through the front doors, and Poppy jabs a sharp elbow into my side. I glance over at her, a warm smile plastered on her face as she greets the school principal, waiting for us in the lobby.
It’s a different principal than the one Poppy and I had when we were students at Heartwood High, but otherwise the school looks no different, almost stuck in a time warp.
The trophy case still proudly displays student’s successes, and I peruse it as we walk past, before realizing it would be crazy for any of my trophies to still be in there.
