Jace lifts me easily. I wrap my legs around him, and he lays on the couch, his weight settling over me. His hand trembles on my hip. “You sure?”
I pull him back down. “Please.”
As he kisses me, his hand slides up my ribs, under my tank top, warm on my skin.
I catch his wrist. “Wait.”
He pulls his hand from under my shirt, and his forehead drops to mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” My throat constricts. “I—I have to tell you something.”
He pulls back enough to see my face. “I’m listening.”
The words I’ve rehearsed for years, never said, press at my tongue. “I’ve never done this before.”
His body stills.
“I’m twenty-eight and…” I bite my lip. “I haven’t.”
His rough thumbs on my cheekbones, so incongruous with his callused hands, are a tenderness I hadn’t expected. My eyes sting.
“Sweetheart.” He speaks more softly and shows no shock or pity. “Look at me.”
I do.
“You sure you want to do this?”
“Yes.” I don’t hesitate. “I’m sure. I just… wanted you to know.”
His thumb traces my cheekbone. “I’m glad you told me.”
He kisses me again. “We can stop whenever you want. You say the word. We stop.”
“I don’t want to stop.”
He pulls back to look at me again. “I’m going to take my time with you. Tell me if anything’s wrong.”
“I will.”
He holds my gaze a beat longer. His mouth returns to mine. His hand finds the hem of my tank top, slower this time, his eyes searching mine. His arm remains tense, fingers flexing.
I nod.
As he slowly pulls up my tank top, I lift my arms, and he pulls it over my head.
His eyes sweep my body. My breasts. My soft stomach. The curve of my waist.
I’m big, thick, and curvy. The instinct to cross my arms, make a joke, or ask him to turn out the light flares. My arms twitch.
“Jesus, sweetheart.” He licks his lips. “Look at you.”
I let my arms stay where they are.
His hand follows his eyes. A rough palm with callused fingers runs down the side of my neck, across my collarbone, and over my breast. As he cups the weight, he sucks in a breath. His thumb traces across my nipple.
“God.” His forehead drops to mine, and he stays there. His shoulders shake. “You are perfect.”
I reach for his shirt to unbutton it. He lets me push it off his shoulders, then pulls the undershirt over his head and tosses it onto the floor.
