Chapter Seventeen
Vivian
I’m proving a point, but for the life of me, I can’t remember what it is. Kissing Jonah is like finally exhaling after holding my breath for too long. His firm lips against mine. This need for more. Always more. It takes me a minute to realize Jonah isn’t moving. Or participating. Oh God. Did I read everything wrong?
I pull back and drop my arms. His eyes are shut. His lips parted slightly.
“I just don’t see it, Laverne.”
“Maybe he needs some training wheels. Start small. Baby gays don’t always know what they want.”
She clicks her tongue. “That is so true.”
They give me knowing smiles, and I expect one of them to pat me on the head and say, “There, there, honey.” If that happens, I swear I’ll go nuclear, grab them by the wigs, and?—
Jonah growls, and it gets their attention. It also gets my dick’s attention, but when I look at Jonah, he’s not looking at the queens. His eyes are intent on my face.
Determined.
Oh. My legs feel weak as Jonah wraps one hand possessively around my nape and claims me with his mouth. The previous spark explodes into a thousand little sparks of pleasure as he kisses me hard. My mouth opens, and he slides his tongue in, owning every part of our kiss. Owning me. When he pulls back, his breathing is ragged and his pupils are blown. His gaze caresses my skin.
He’s too far away. I need his lips on mine. Nothing else matters.
“Oh, honey.” The blond queen fans herself. “I see it now. Right, Laverne?”
“Absooluuuutely. Phew, it’s hot out today.”
“Positively scorching.”
“Let’s go.” Jonah takes my hand and pulls me away. I have no idea where we’re going, but I don’t care. I’m still processing what just happened.
Is there a code word or a button to activate this side of Jonah? If so, I need to learn it. Memorize it. But right now, I’m struggling to remember my own name.
Jonah pulls me away from the crowds. The worry on his face seems out of place. “Vivian?”
Right, that’s my name. Vivian. “Yes?”
“I’m so sorry,” he says in a soft voice. His head drops. Sweet Jonah is back, and while I like this side of Jonah more than I should, I really,reallylike the hulked-up version.
I grab his face, so he has to look at me. “You can’t kiss me like that and apologize.”
He grins, and some of the tension leaves my body. “Is that a rule or something?”
“Yes. There are rules, Jonah. And you need to learn them. Before Pridefest.” I’m mostly joking, but also not.
His gaze drops to my mouth. “Are you my teacher?”
Any oxygen left in my brain is gone. The thought of teaching Jonah?—
“Hey! I’ve been looking for you guys,” George says, sounding out of breath as he reaches us. Jonah and I take a step away from each other.
“What’s going on, Dad?”
“We need to go.” He turns to me, and the hesitancy in his voice sets off alarm bells. “Your mom isn’t feeling well. I think it’s the heat.”
Right. This was the reason I’d pulled Jonah aside in the first place. What the hell is going on?
Instead of going to the hospital like I wanted, we’re on our way to Durango. Mom insisted she was fine, so George is in the back with her and Jonah is driving. Screaming at everyone wouldn’t help, but this need to do something claws at me. Consumes me.
