I will never get enough of how they spill over, too gloriously large to fit in my hand, and if they aren’t my favorite thing ever… I don’t know what is.
Her mind, strength, and beauty may bring me to my knees, but my dick has a mind of his own, and his favorite things are these firm, luscious tits.
I can’t blame him for even one second; they’re fucking magnificent.
“Oh god,” Annabelle whispers against my lips, pulling back, pushing my chest to create distance. Her eyes widen, stricken with a look I’m unfamiliar with. “Jack.”
“Annabelle,” I whisper, unsure of myself for the first time in forever. I can’t read her. “Are we good, sweetheart? Are you okay?”
She nods her head, still in a semi-state of shock.
Shit.
Did I fuck this up?
She was right there with me. I know it.
I stand there, breathing heavily, wide-eyed, waiting for her to say something. Hoping whatever she says won’t diminish the moment and the best kiss I’ve had in my whole life.
“B,” I whisper, unable to take the silence any longer. This time though, my voice breaks her out of her daze.
She reaches out and squeezes my hand, letting a small, lopsided grin curve up one side of her face. “Yeah, Jack… we’re good,” she says, biting her bottom lip, still grinning when she leans in and kisses my lips once more. Keeping her eyes locked on mine, she backs away until she turns abruptly and closes the door behind her, leaving me alone.
I stand there for what feels like hours before it hits me…we’re good.
I send an invisible fist pump in the air.Fuck yes!
This is our moment of clarity. Her resolve is melting, and soon, she’ll be mine.
Because that’s what she is—mine.
Every goddamn inch of her ismine.
Annabelle
I lock Jack out of the room to jump on the bed and scream intohispillow to feel like he’s right there with me. Allowing my teenage alter-ego to take over—she needs a split-second to relish in what just happened.
I wish I could go back in time to tell myself that it’s finally happening, what I feared most yet still wished for every time I closed my eyes, every time I blew out a birthday candle. Jackson Peters may finally be mine.
What my younger self would never understand is why I’ve been the one holding back, but after that kiss…that perfect kiss. I’m not sure I have the strength to hold back any longer.
Our first kiss, we were young and careless.
The second was drunk and forgetful.
The third one was everything…meant everything.
The third one’s undoubtedly the charm. I feel it deep in my bones—things are changing.
Jack’s been trying to tell me all weekend, showing me through the real and raw emotions he never once hid.
Ones that he didn’t shy away from, practically forcing me to see what he sees in us, and it wasn’t until now that I’m finally allowing myself to open up and see it too.
Every emotion poured into that kiss came from somewhere deep within me. The energy was electrifying, and I know he felt it; I could see it in those beautiful eyes of his.
I won’t pretend I’m surprised it happened.
We were forced to share a room, and the air around us had been thick and full of arousal since the moment we stepped on French soil. If I had opened my eyes to the reality of it all, I would have seen it coming a mile away.
