“Is this your favorite place?” I ask as the trail begins to follow the coastline.
“One of them,” Jesse says quietly. “When my mom died, I… didn’t know what to do with myself. I was angry all the time. I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.” He exhales through his nose. “Ford and Noah dealt with it differently, but I’d just…explode.”
My chest pulls tight for him. He keeps walking, guiding me along the path that curves toward a small lookout framed by cedar trees.
“I used to take the bus here and I’d come sit for hours,” he tells me, nodding to a weathered, wooden bench overlooking the water. “It was the only place where my head stopped feeling like a pressure cooker.”
Jesse gestures for me to sit, then lowers himself beside me, elbows on his knees. “I still come here sometimes,” he says. “Whenever I need quiet. Or space. Or just…” He trails off and gives me a small, almost self-conscious smile. “Whenever I need to talk to my mom.”
“You talk to her?”
He nods. “Not out loud. I’m not totally unhinged,” he laughs. “But yeah. I tell her things. About work. My brothers. Life.”
“And you brought me here,” I murmur, realizing the weight of that.
He shrugs, but it’s the kind of shrug that means everything. “I’ve never brought anyone else,” he admits. “Ever.” His hand finds mine again, threading our fingers. “It feels different with you here.”
I squeeze his hand. Being here with Jesse, in this place that means so much to him, feels almost too much for me to handle. It’s so easy to catch feelings for this man when he opens himself up like this. “Thank you for bringing me,” I say softly.
We spend the next ten minutes sitting in silence,with Jesse’s arms wrapped tightly around me as we look out at the ocean. Eventually, the cool air sends a shiver down my spine. “Let’s go warm up,” he says, grabbing my hands and pulling me to stand.
The second we reach his Porsche, he turns and pins me against the door. My breath stutters. The way he looks at me makes everything else disappear. It’s just me and Jesse for now, but I almost forget that we’re in a public parking lot and that anyone can walk by us.
I tilt my chin up, giving him the answer he’s waiting for, and he takes my mouth instantly—tongue sliding between my lips.
“Can I touch you, Mads,” he murmurs against my mouth.
I seal my mouth to his, rutting my already throbbing clit against his thigh. “Don’t let anyone see us,” I breathe.
I watch the smile take over his mouth before his fingers trail down my body and stroke a slow, devastating line into my pants and along my slit. “No one’s gonna see,” he growls. “I promise, I’m the only one watching you.”
He presses my back against the cool metal of his car, his body shielding mine. We’re both fully clothed, but it’s obvious what we’re doing. If I’m honest, I don’t care. Wild horses, earthquakes, the apocalypse—none of it could make me stop this moment. I need Jesse’s fingers on my clit, the way he keeps circling, retreating, then giving it back to me again and again.
My hips move on instinct, greedy for every tight circle of his fingers. My palms slide down his back, over the hard curve of muscle, until I’m clutching the round globes of his ass and pulling him into me. My head tips back against the car, a moan slipping out when he presses harder.
Our gazes lock right as my climax hits me and the world tilts in a sharp, fast, unstoppable free fall. Pleasure rips through me before I realize it’s happening, and I come on his hand in the middle of the parking lot.
Jesse’s forehead drops to mine, and he steadies my body with his arm around my waist. He pins me between the Porscheand the solid, warm, weight of his body. The thick, unmistakable press of his erection nudges my stomach.
“That was so hot,” he whispers.
“I can’t believe we just did that.” I bury my face in his chest as he eases his fingers out of my body.
“We did, and I’m not going to forget it anytime soon.” I feel him shift and the solid length of him nudges against me as he sucks his fingers clean.
“Jesse…” I start, but he’s already adjusting himself in his pants.
He catches my chin gently, making me meet his eyes. “Don’t worry about my dick, Mads.” A wicked grin curves at his mouth. “He’ll survive. I’ll deal with him later.”
I snort. Only Jesse can talk about his own erection like it’s a misbehaving pet. He presses a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Get in the car before I change my mind and take you right here on the hood.”
We climb into his Porsche, and he reverses out of the parking lot. His hand immediately finds mine on the center console, his fingers lacing with mine. The world outside blurs, but inside the car, everything feels warm and steady.
And in the quiet car, with his thumb brushing slow circles on my palm, one undeniable truth pulses through me: I’m falling for Jesse, whether it’s smart or not.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Madeline
