Page 60 of Don't Remind Me
I kissed him. My mouth sought his like it belonged to me, and he let me have it, opening to me immediately as he pulled me against his chest. In one smooth motion, he rolled me onto my back, rising above me and blocking out the rest of the world.
Maybe it could be like Robin suggested, where we just enjoyed each other and moved on. No need for his family to ever find out.
Simple. Like we’d agreed.
His lips left mine, letting me catch my breath as he kissed his way down my throat, pausing to suck each breast before continuing lower. The sight of him between my legs was almost enough to make me come before his tongue even touched me. When it finally did, he had to hold my hips in place to keep them from bucking off the bed.
His mouth moved against me, tongue seeking, and my body twisted away to escape the mounting pleasure even as I ground against him for more.
It was too much. Too much and not enough. Too much and everything I needed all at once.
“Jase!” I cried out, covering my eyes with my hand.
He closed his lips over my clit and sucked as he slid two fingers inside me, drawing me to the edge of an excruciating fall.
That was the thing about keeping it simple—it only worked if no feelings were involved.
The problem was I had already started falling, and there was no stopping it now.
We fell into a routine.
I continued working from the restaurant, wanting more than ever to be close to Jase, to witness him in his element and be part of his world. The hate mail had died down enough that Geffery thought it was safe for me to return to the office, but Talia was happy with the progress I’d made and had no problem with me working remotely until the symposium. I planned to take advantage of every moment it allowed me to spend with Jase.
I craved him, not just with my body but also with my mind. With something else, too, that scared me too much to think about.
Because for every part of me that recognized howrightthis felt, being with him in this way, another part couldn’t help but feel like our time was running out. That feeling of being in a dream you never wanted to wake from but knowing in the back of your mind that your alarm would go off at any second.
I didn’t want to wake from this.
He cooked for me most days, breakfasts after nights spent together—usually at his place since he had Baxter to take care of and the better kitchen—and lunch, which he’d bring to me in Jillian’s office.
More nights than not, I ate dinner at the bar in what had become my regular seat nearest the kitchen. Despite Jase’s protests, I insisted on paying, though I did let him give me an employee discount. It was still more than I would have spent on meals out before, but with the amount I saved on groceries from his cooking for me, I figured it balanced out.
Robin joined me for either dinner or drinks at least once a week, usually on a night Neela worked, and it was on those nights especially that it struck me how different my life was from two months ago.
Two years ago.
Ten years ago.
That I had found a space for myself where I felt full with people who filled me up. That I was, for once, content to sit here in this moment instead of pushing and planning and rushing to the next. Even when an email came in the following Monday afternoon that should have had me scrambling.
“Did he say why?” I asked Talia over the phone. I was cross-legged on Jase’s couch, wearing one of his T-shirts with my laptop on his coffee table, said email filling the screen.
“Some sort of family emergency. He didn’t give details, but he was firm in his withdrawal.”
I blew out a breath. “Okay.” There really wasn’t much else to say. The main speaker for one of our symposium panels had just pulled out, and unless we replaced him, we’d have a huge hole in our schedule.
It was doable but not ideal. Especially since everyone on our list of backups was located on the other side of the country, and coordinating the logistics this close to the event had the potential to be a nightmare.
A month seemed like a lot of time, but it almost always took a week just to hear back on an initial inquiry, and most people needed time to work out their schedule before they could commit, which meant it would likely be a little over a week out from the symposium before we had a confirmed speaker to book travel for. Not to mention how the programs would need to be updated and printed at the last minute, along with a million other details that would need to be adjusted.
“I’ll make some calls,” Talia said. “See if anyone gets back to me quickly.”
“All right. I’ll hold off on emails until I hear from you. Let me know if anyone bites.”
“I’ll check in again later today. It’ll work out,” she assured me.
“Yeah.” I didn’t sound convinced. I guess I wasn’t. Not that we wouldn’t find someone, but whether we should.
