I suck in a breath.
He frowns. “Am I hurting you?”
It takes me a moment to compute that he’s worried about my scars. “Nah. I’m good. I told you they don’t hurt anymore.”
“That’s not what you said.”
I know it isn’t, but at the time I hadn’t anticipated a scenario where we’d be having this conversation. And I don’t want to be talking right now. We’ve talked all night long. I’m done with words.
Tanner takes his time exploring me. He has rough, work-hardened hands that don’t belong in a wine bar, but his touch is soft. His fingertips are ghosts on my bare skin, and I feel it more than if he threw me down and clawed at me. He makes me tremble. And as he slowly unbuttons my jeans—his jeans, whatever—I realize that perhaps he always has. That I’ve been shaking since the very first time he put his hands on me.
He deepens his kiss and eases my dick free. His fist closes around my length and any composure I had left is long gone. Pleasure surges in my gut. I groan and tip my head back, ripping my mouth from his. “Fuck yeah.”
Tanner hums and bites my neck with perfect pressure. Perfectpain. Another groan rips out of me, and I’m so fucking undone.
He watches me with rapt attention as I come. His liquid gaze catches every shudder and gasp, but I don’t feel self-conscious. I know he wants me like this. That my pleasure makes him feel good. And I want him to feel good. I want him to feel dizzy and boneless like I do right now.
It takes me a minute to catch my breath, then I’m on him.
I roll him over and reach for his fly.
He shudders. “You don’t have to—”
I cover his mouth with my hand. He bites my fingers. I press down harder and his eyes flash with an extra shot of heat I’m unprepared for.Interesting.I file it away for later brooding and undo his fly. His cock is hard and straining against his underwear. I set him free and wrap my fingers around his heavy length. After so long without a man’s touch, it should feel strange to be with Tanner like this, but it doesn’t. It feels so right my chest gets hot, my breaths short, and it’s me who’s gasping again instead of him.
“Hey.” Tanner pulls me close and presses his lips to the fading bruise on my cheekbone. “Stay with me.”
I’m not going anywhere. I kiss him back and zero in on his hot pants of breath against my skin. His shaking hands and straining muscles. I jack him until he’s bucking into my hand. Then he comes with a deep groan, and his blunt nails dig into my shoulder before he catches himself and pulls them away.
I mourn the sharp, grounding scratch, and I hate the fact that he’s careful with me in a moment where he should only think of himself. But there’s nothing in the world right now that can take me away from the bliss on his face. Tanner’s enchanting in any light, but in the dark of the unfamiliar apartment, splayed out on my brand-new sheets, he’s everything.
We return to earth still kissing, but eventually, I force myself to roll out of bed and find a wash cloth to clean us both up. I leave again to throw it into the laundry hamper in the bathroom.
I come back to find Tanner hasn’t moved. He’s still sprawled out with heavy eyes. “I should go,” he says.
“No.” I find the covers we’ve kicked aside and drag them over us. “Stay.”
Chapter Eleven
Tanner
Jax’s alarm goes off before dawn. I’m ready for it, but he’s not. He groans and rolls forward, burying his face in the pillow. A heartbeat passes between us. Then he reaches back for me and pulls my arm around his waist.
Chuckling, I fit myself closer to his spine and run my fingers through his hair. He sighs, and for precious moments everything is perfect. But nothing is perfect forever. He has to leave, and so do I.
Jax gets up and stumbles into the shower. I stay where I am to keep out of his way in the tiny apartment and try not to stare as he drifts around in a towel, dripping water on the floor, and gathering his clothes for the day. “When are you camping out?”
“Tomorrow.” Jax tugs insulated pants up his long legs and covers his torso with a T-shirt emblazoned with the Wildfoot logo. “We’re setting it up today, so it’s not brand new for the forest critters.”
“You know they might tear it all down overnight, don’t you? That happened to me and Gabi once. We had grand plans to spend a week camping out, but a moose trampled our tent, and then the foxes came and stole all our supplies.”
“How old were you?”
“Fourteen.”
“Still not over it?”
“Not even close. It was a year before we could afford a new tent.”
