“What are you thinking about?” he asks.
“How lucky I am. How a snowstorm and a wrong turn led me exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
“I was thinking the same thing.” He pulls back to look at me. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“Come to bed. It’s late. You must be exhausted.”
“I am. But I had other ideas.” I wink at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” He chuckles, scooping me up in his arms as he rushes off to his bedroom. He carries me up the stairs like I weigh nothing, and I’m laughing against his neck, pressing kisses to his jaw.
“You know I can walk, right?”
“Not fast enough,” he growls, kicking the bedroom door open. He sets me down next to the bed, and suddenly the playfulness shifts. The air between us crackles with tension and want and weeks of pent-up longing. “Sloane,” he breathes, his hands framing my face. “Are you sure? We don’t have to …”
I cut him off with a kiss. Deep and demanding. Showing him exactly how sure I am. “I’m sure,” I whisper against his lips. “I want you. It’s been too long.”
“Thank fuck, my hand had been getting sore.” He groans, and then his mouth is on mine again.
This kiss is different from the ones outside. This is hungry. Desperate. Claiming. His hands slide under my sweater, warm against my skin, and I gasp into his mouth.
“Off,” I demand, tugging at his flannel.
He pulls back just long enough to yank it over his head, and oh, I’d forgotten how good he looks. All hard muscle and golden skin and that trail of hair disappearing into his jeans that makes my mouth water.
“Your turn,” he says, his voice rough with desire. I pull off my sweater and bra in one motion, and his eyes go dark. “Fuck, you’re beautiful.”
“You’ve seen me naked before.”
“Doesn’t matter. I could see you a thousand times and I’d still be stunned every single time.” His hands cup my breasts, thumbs brushing over my nipples, and I arch into his touch.
“Jax …”
“I know, baby. I’ve got you.”
He walks me backward until my knees hit the bed, then gently pushes me down. I scoot back, watching as he strips off the rest of his clothes. And yeah. I remembered that correctly.
“Stop staring,” he says, but he’s grinning.
“Never.”
He crawls over me, settling between my legs, and his weight feels right. Perfect. “I missed this,” he murmurs, pressing kisses down my neck. “Missed you. Missed having you in my bed.” He takes his time. Learning me all over again. Reacquainting himself with every curve and hollow. Making me squirm and gasp and beg.
“Jax, please …”
“Please, what?” he growls.
“Stop teasing.”
“But you’re so pretty when you’re desperate.” He nips at my hip bone. “And I’ve been waiting weeks for this. I’m going to savor it.”
“You’re evil.”
“You love it.” He chuckles.
And I do. God, I do.
