When I pull up outside Jasper’s cabin — orLacey’s cabin, now — for what feels like the millionth time this month, she doesn’t get out right away. My heart thuds in my chest, and something hangs in the air between us. Something that tastes like possibility.
“I want this,” Lacey says, cutting through the silence, and I turn to look at her, not sure I heard her right.
She’s staring out the windshield at the cabin, her throat bobbing once before she turns and looks at me. Today, her hair is pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, two braids running from her face down to the bun, where they disappear. She always looks gorgeous, but she clearly took more time to get ready today.
I waited patiently for her in the living room as she did, unable to stop myself from thinking about the kind of furniture I would make for the place, if it were mine.
Then, when she came out in her burnt orange overall dress and tights, doing a little twirl and asking how she looked, I had to restrain myself from picking her up and carrying her right back into the bedroom.
After all, when we woke up this morning, I’d already had in mind that we should do it again.
I’d held myself back because she was excited about the festival. But we’re home now, and she’ll be taking the dress off anyway.
So, I slide out of the driver’s seat and circle the Jeep, opening her door for her like I’ve insisted on doing before.
“Max.” She laughs when I don’t step back, but instead reach inside and unbuckle her belt, letting it slide smoothly back from her chest. “What are you?—”
Then I’m picking her up, carrying her like I did when she fell off the ladder. An injury that I’m realizing healed in just enough time for her to enjoy the fall festival.
Lacey wraps her arms around my neck, and I walk her up the front porch and into the cabin, carrying her directly to the bed we shared the night before. The sheets are still messy, the duvet pulled back.
It smells like her in here.
“Keep talking,” I say, setting her down on the bed, fingers finding the clasps for her dress and undoing them.
She gasps, her eyes flying to mine, then she swallows and says again, “I want this. I want—” She pauses as I pull the dress down and off, then hook my thumbs in the waistband of her tights. “I don’t know what the future looks like. But I’ll always be honest with you. They offered me the promotion, but I don’t?—”
I pull her shirt off over her head and drop my mouth to that spot above her throat, which takes her breath away for a moment. Bringing my hand up to the small of her back, I let my fingers spread out, holding her in place as I let my lips work over her hot, feverish skin.
“I don’t even know if I want the job,” she whispers, bringing her hands up to tangle her fingers in my hair. “I think— I think I want this. This place. This cabin. You.”
Her fingers find the button at the top of my jeans, and an urgency builds inside me. Before, the first time I had her, Iforced myself to take things slow. To touch her and feel her and taste her, in case it might be the last time.
But this isn’t the last time. Not even close, because I’m already planning out all the ways I’m going to have her tonight.
So I let the urgency take over. I let it settle my body over hers, and spread her legs wide. I let it dispatch with the rest of our clothes quickly, and let it slide me between her legs, my cock pressing at her entrance as she stares at me with those dark, expectant eyes.
And when I rock into her, I let it take both of us, pushing deep and harder, driving into the need she shows me through the tug of her fingers and her gasps and the way she throws her head back against the pillows.
I palm her breasts and run my hands down her sides and promise to myself that I’m never going to hold back from something I want ever again. How many times could we have done this already if I hadn’t been stopping myself?
How many times could I have lowered my mouth to her nipple, scraping my teeth over the most sensitive part, feeling her pussy clench around my cock in response? How many times could I have felt the scratch of her nails gently down my back?
I have no idea how much of this I’ve missed out on. All I know is that, from this moment forward, I’m going to take as much of her as I can possibly get.
CHAPTER 19
LACEY
When I wake up the next morning in Max’s arms, he’s already moving against me sleepily, his length hard against my ass. The sun filters in through the curtains he hung for me, and the room smells, still, like paint. Evidence of all the time he and I have been spending together.
Slowly, I remember last night. Our bodies sweaty and slick. Gasping his name as I came with him inside me. Falling asleep here in his arms.
Max murmurs something, tugging at the tips of my hair, and I tuck myself in against him, letting my head fall against his shoulder. He releases a sleepy groan, long and low, grabbing my hips and drawing us flush together.
It’s frenetic and cozy at the same time. Somehow, the movement of two people who are used to finding one another. I meet his lust like it’s an old friend.
I reach down, guiding him to me, and when he’s fully inside, we stay still like that for a beat, breathing through the moment of connection. And when he starts to move, he wraps one handaround me, under my head, his palm settling over my breast and pulling me even tighter against him.
