Page 100 of His Surrender
“But you trust me.”
“Yes.” Staring into his eyes, I had no doubt in my mind. Jay and I’d had our ups and downs over the months, but I was thankful for the place we’d ended up. And we still had so much more to explore together. So many quirks to learn about each other. Which reminded me. “I still haven’t seen you tie a cherry knot with your tongue.”
“Remind me to show you next time we’re at my place.” His hands traveled up my thighs and to my waist where he slid them under my shirt. “I have a stash of cherries in my fridge. Saved for special occasions of course.”
“Like seducing your boyfriend?”
“God, I never thought I’d love hearing that.” Jay nuzzled my neck, breathing in deep before exhaling. “Say it again.”
“You remind me of the hyenas fromThe Lion Kingsaying Mufasa.”
Jay clutched his chest. “What a way to bring up a childhood trauma. I’ll never get over Mufasa’s death. You owe me a blowjob for that.”
“I’ll give you all the blowjobs you want,” I murmured against his lips before kissing them.
I grabbed a spatula from the drawer before loading up our plates with lasagna and carrying it to the table. Jay poured us each a glass of water and followed behind me.
“The defendant agreed to the plea bargain,” Jay said over dinner. “I had to discuss the terms with Garrett and Michael, the head prosecutor, but we were able to draft an agreement we were satisfied with. She’ll still serve some time, but it’s a hell of a lot less than what she would’ve been sentenced had she been found guilty at trial.”
“That’s good, right? Her agreeing to the deal? You won’t have to go through another trial.”
“Thank god for that.” Jay bumped his glass to mine before taking a drink. “The guys at the police station aren’t too happy, but shit happens.”
“This is amazing by the way,” I said, nodding to the lasagna. He’d crafted a perfect blend of cheese, pasta, and sauce. “I’ve always eaten anything, not really picky, but if you keep cooking for me, I’ll turn into a food snob.”
“Just wait ’til you try my mom’s cooking.” The smile had barely left his face all afternoon. “She’s so excited about Saturday.”
“So am I.” Meeting his family was a huge step. One I was more than ready to take.
The spring concert with the band and choir was at noon on Saturday, and afterward, I was going over to Jay’s parents’ house to meet everyone. Officially as his boyfriend. I was excited but nervous too.
What if his parents didn’t like me?
“Stop fretting.” He reached to poke the center of my forehead. “You’re just like Emery. You wear your emotions so plainly on your face. They will love you. Mom nearly deafened me in one ear when I called to tell her. She screamed so loud and started gushing about what she was going to cook.” He laughed and dropped his gaze to his half-empty plate. “She’s wanted me to find someone for years.”
I placed my hand over his on the table, and those beautiful emerald eyes lifted back up. “I can’t wait to meet them.”
After dinner, we left the dishes for later and sat on the couch to let our food settle and watch some TV. Jay had his arm behind my head, one leg propped up on my coffee table. He was still wearing his suit, minus the jacket. He’d done it on purpose. He usually changed into something casual before we hung out, but he knew I had a thing about him in one. All part of his masterplan to get laid, I was sure.
As we watched the evening news, I smoothed my hand across his stomach and held on to him. He kissed the top of my head. God, it was so normal. Soright.
The meteorologist predicted a warm-up for the upcoming week, and then the news anchor talked about more construction work on the interstate that might impact the morning commute to work. I zoned out after that. All I focused on was Jay’s hand as it slid from my shoulder down to my waist. His fingertips glided along the bottom of my stomach where my shirt had ridden up.
His lips pressed to my hair again, then moved to my temple. His hand slid farther up my shirt.
“Where are you goin’?” he asked when I stood from the couch.
I grabbed his hand and pulled him to his feet. He smirked when I walked backward, taking him with me down the hall, our eyes locked.
There were moments when words were needed. Then there were times when actions spoke louder. And I wanted my actions to say that I loved him with every piece of my heart—a heart that had been stomped on in the past, yet he’d picked it up, dusted it off, and placed it back in my chest, not new but bandaged and healing more as each day passed.
Unlike most other times when we’d been intimate, we didn’t rush. Jay laid me on the bed and kissed me slowly, deeply. His hand found mine, and our fingers linked. Clothes were shed and our naked bodies pressed together as his lips found mine once more.
“Ty krasivyy,” he whispered.
“I love when you speak Russian to me.” I ran a finger from the edge of his eye down to his lips. “What did you say?”
“You are so beautiful.”
