Page 40 of Under Southern Stars
“Exactly right,” I finish, wrapping my legs around him, drawing him deeper. “Don’t stop.”
He doesn’t. He moves again, slow at first, careful to read my reactions, until the gentleness gives way to something stronger, something raw and desperate. Our rhythm builds, driven by weeks of carefully suppressed desire, months of casual flirtation, every stolen glance and secret smile leading us here, now.
The bruises on his shoulder make me cautious, but Jack guides my touch away from them gently, murmuring reassurances into my neck, his lips finding the sensitive skinbehind my ear, making me gasp his name. His voice, whispering my name in response, is low and reverent, filled with awe and need.
“Sophia,” he breathes, our pace quickening now, urgency building. I cling to him, nails digging lightly into his back, and he groans, the sound sending heat spiraling through me.
“Jack, please,” I gasp, feeling the edge drawing closer, that exquisite tension coiling tightly inside me.
He shifts slightly, deepening his thrusts, and suddenly the tension snaps. Pleasure explodes through me, bright and blinding, washing away every coherent thought. Jack’s movements falter as he follows, gasping my name as he shudders against me, every muscle taut, every breath harsh and ragged.
We lie tangled together afterward, breathing slowly returning to normal, our bodies pressed close, skin slick and heated. He brushes hair away from my face, his fingers gentle, lingering.
“Worth the wait?” he asks softly, his voice thick with exhaustion and satisfaction.
I smile, shifting closer, feeling strangely shy after everything we’ve just shared. “More than worth it.”
“Better than I imagined.” He presses a kiss to my shoulder. “And I’ve imagined it. Alot.”
“Just how long have you been thinking about this?”
“Truthfully?” His voice is sleepy, content. “Since you told me I could call anytime with my accent. Nearly drove off the road.”
I laugh, turning in his arms to face him. “We should have done this sooner.”
“No.” He’s serious now, those blue eyes finding mine in the darkness. “It happened exactly when it should have. When we were both ready.”
He’s right. A few months ago, I was still too raw from the divorce, too guarded. Now…
“What happens tomorrow?” I ask.
“Tomorrow, we have coffee at Marina Park. Take a walk. Maybe hold hands in public.” He grins. “Scandalous stuff.”
“The hospital gossip mill is going to explode.”
“Let them talk.” He pulls me closer. “I’m not hiding this. You?”
“No.” I trace the edge of his bruise gently. “No more hiding.”
He plants feather kisses on my forehead tenderly, over and over again, his arm tightening around me. “Good. Because I’m not planning on going anywhere.”
“Good,” I echo, closing my eyes, letting myself sink into the warmth and safety of his embrace. For once, I don’t think about tomorrow or complications or what could go wrong.
We fall asleep like that, wrapped around each other, the future uncertain but somehow less frightening than it’s been in years.
Because tonight, right here, is exactly enough.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JACK
I wake to sunlight streaming through unfamiliar curtains and the scent of Sophia’s shampoo on the pillow beside me. For a moment, I just lie there, taking it in. Her bedroom in daylight—photos of Madison on the dresser, a stack of romance novels on the nightstand, scrubs thrown over a chair.
Real life. Her real life. And I’m in it now.
The shower’s running in the en suite. I check my phone—8:47 AM. We said ten o’clock for coffee, but that was before…this.
The bathroom door opens, and Sophia emerges in a towel, hair damp. She freezes when she sees me awake.
