Page 127 of Full Tilt
His grip on my hips tightened and he lifted me onto him. A break in our breath’s rhythm as he slid inside me.
“Yes.” His mouth shaped the word without a sound.
Yes, this…
I pushed forward, my breasts pressed against his scarred chest. My arms wrapped around his back, my legs around his hips, taking him in as deeply as I could,
Jonah slipped one arm around my waist. His other hand slid against my face, his thumb brushing over my lips. Our breathing fell in sync again. We didn’t move but to breathe.
“You,” he whispered.
“You…” All I knew or felt or saw.You.The whole world in my arms. The unfolding depths of his eyes. The hard, heavy warmth of him inside me. A soft, pulsing pleasure that grew with each moment, until it began to move us.
Our lips met in a gentle, deep kiss. Inhale, I rolled my hips back. Exhale, I pushed them forward. Jonah mirrored, rocking his pelvis against mine. A tide, ebbing and flowing. Ocean wavesfalling gently on the shore as we kissed and shared breath. Eyes open, never breaking contact, the heavy ache of pleasure took on more weight, grew more intense.
“Kace,” he whispered.
I threaded my fingers through his hair, adding new points of contact, new connections. I felt him in every pore, every breath and beat of our hearts. I’d never experienced anything like this in my life. He was a universe. My love for him was just as boundless.
Tears filled our eyes as our bodies rolled and slid, driving toward a bittersweet crescendo of pleasure. Tears for love. For loss. For the weeks he had, and the years he didn’t. For the joy and laughter, the heartache and grief. For this lonely man and the lost woman he’d rescued. For us, and the rapidly approaching time in which there would be only me.
I closed my eyes, sank into his kiss, and gave in to the climax. It rose up and rolled through us, gentle slow-motion swells instead of a crashing wave.
“Look at me,” he whispered. “Don’t stop.”
I opened my eyes.
“I love you, Kacey.”
“Jonah.” My eyes saw only him. My breath was for his lungs, my tears dampened his skin. My hands were made to run through his hair. I was born to feel him all over me forever.
“Jonah…My Jonah…”
CHAPTER
FORTY-THREE
I spun the blowpipe back and forth. The glass on the end was the size of a child-size bowling ball but felt a hundred times heavier. My breath was a shallow wheeze in and out of my chest—I couldn’t take deep breaths anymore unless I was sitting down.
“Tania…”
She took the pipe from my hand as I sat heavily on the bench and set it on the rails. I resumed rolling and shaping. My arms felt like lead as I took up the jacks and sawed at the neck. Tania was there, her hands covered in the thick mitts, cupped beneath the sphere.
“Stop if you have to,” she told me.
I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the breath and I wouldn’t have stopped anyway. The glass globe cut loose from the pipe and Tania caught it deftly in her hands. She carried it to the kiln, but it was too big for her to hold while opening the door.
Using the blowpipe as a cane, I pushed myself to stand and moved as fast as I could across the ten feet. I opened the kiln door and Tania carefully laid the glass inside, while I slumped against the wall, gasping for breath.
She tore off the mitts to set the cooling timer, then took me by the arms.
“Tell me…”
We had a standing agreement, me and my circle. They didn’t ask if I needed help so long as I promised to tell them if I did.
“I’m okay,” I said, and it was true. My heart Jack-rabbited in my chest, irregular and fast, but it was calming down. My lungs sucked in more and more air, and finally I was able to push myself off the wall.
Tania hooked her arm under mine and helped. Together, we looked through the kiln glass door.
