His voice is calm and steady. I let myself believe that he’s okay with casual.
I nestle closer, letting the warmth of his body chase the questions away for now. But inside, something shifts. A small, quiet voice whispers that casual isn’t enough anymore. The boundaries I keep drawing are starting to feel like walls instead of safety.
I push the thoughts down, but as I drift toward sleep in his arms, the voice lingers.
6
JAKE
Sunlight slips through the gauzy curtains in pale golden bars, painting slow stripes across Grace’s bare shoulder and the curve of her spine. I wake before she does. My left arm is numb from being trapped beneath her all night, but I don’t dare move. I’d rather lose the whole arm than lose this moment.
She’s curled into me as if she belongs there. Her head tucked under my chin, one leg thrown possessively over both of mine, her soft breath feathering against my collarbone. Her hair spills across the pillow in dark waves that still carry the faint scent of bonfire smoke and ocean. My free hand rests on the dip of her waist, thumb tracing idle circles over warm skin. Every few minutes, she sighs in her sleep, a small, contented sound that settles something restless inside my chest.
Last night keeps replaying in my mind. The way she shattered under me, the way she clung afterward like I was the only solid thing in her world, the quiet way she reinforced the boundary line right after. “This doesn’t change anything. I’m still leaving in August.” The reminder stung more than I let on. I kissed her forehead and held her tighter anyway, pretending the words didn’t carve a small hollow under my ribs.
Now, in the soft morning quiet, I let myself hope the hollow might fill itself while she sleeps.
She stirs. A tiny sound escapes her as her lashes flutter open. For one unguarded heartbeat, her eyes are pure warmth, soft with sleep and something deeper, something that makes my pulse kick hard. Then full awareness returns. A slow, shy smile curves her mouth, pink and swollen from last night.
“Morning,” she whispers, voice husky from sleep and sex.
“Morning.” I brush a strand of hair from her cheek, letting my thumb linger against the softness there. “You okay?”
She stretches like a cat in sunlight, body arching against mine in one long, lazy roll. The motion drags every inch of her skin along mine and pulls a low groan from my throat before I can stop it. She feels the thick press of my arousal against her hip, and her smile turns slow and wicked.
“Feels like you’re more than okay,” she teases, voice still rough around the edges.
I roll us in one smooth motion so she’s beneath me, caging her gently with my forearms. Her thighs part instinctively, welcoming the cradle of my hips. “You have no idea what you do to me, Grace.”
Her hands slide up my back, nails grazing lightly, sending sparks down my spine. “Show me.”
I kiss her with lazy, languid morning kisses. Her tongue meets mine in a slow, deliberate glide that makes my head spin. I rock against her gently, feeling how slick and ready she already is, and the knowledge pulls another groan from deep in my chest.
I reach blindly for the nightstand, fingers closing around a condom packet. She watches me roll it on with heavy-lidded eyes, lips parted, breathing shallow. When I settle between her thighs again, she wraps her legs around my waist, heels digging into my ass in silent demand.
I push inside her in one long, slow thrust. We both moan, low, broken sounds that mingle in the quiet room. She’s hot and tight and perfect, her inner walls fluttering around me like she’s trying to pull me deeper. I hold still for a second, forehead pressed to hers, letting us both feel it.
“You feel so good,” I rasp against her mouth. “It’s like coming home.”
She arches, nails scoring lightly down my shoulders. “Move, Jake. Please.”
I move.
Slowly at first with deep, rolling thrusts that drag against every sensitive place inside her. She gasps each time I bottom out, hips lifting to meet me, chasing more. I give it to her, pace building gradually, hips snapping harder, bed creaking beneath us in steady rhythm.
Her hands roam my back, my ass, my hair, pulling me closer, urging me deeper. I hook one of her knees over my elbow, changing the angle, hitting a spot that makes her cry out sharply. The sound goes straight to my cock, and I almost come.
“Right there,” she breathes. “God, don’t stop.”
I don’t. I keep the rhythm relentless, thumb slipping between us to circle her clit in tight, steady strokes. Her thighs tremble around my hips. Her breath turns ragged, desperate.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur against her throat. “So wet. So tight. I can feel you fluttering around me. Come for me, baby. Let me feel you.”
She shatters with a broken cry of my name, inner walls pulsing, clenching so hard I nearly lose control. I thrust through it, chasing my own release, burying myself deep as pleasure rips through me in hot, blinding waves. I groan her name into her hair, hips jerking, spilling inside her while she trembles beneath me.
We stay locked together, breathing hard, sweat cooling on our skin. I kiss her temple, her cheek, the corner of her mouth. She smiles against my lips, lazy and sated.
“Best alarm clock ever,” she murmurs.
