Page 75 of The Happy Hour
She saw the desire spark in his eyes, and then he was helping her tug down his jeans, and settling his body over hers, her yeti pillows cushioning them, his skin smooth and hot and so delicious pressed against her own.
‘You’re so beautiful, Jess,’ he whispered, as he kissed her neck, her collarbone, and then lower, squeezing her breast with just the right amount of pressure. ‘Is this OK?’
She swallowed, trying not to gasp. ‘It’s a good start,’ she managed, as his lips brushed softly over her nipple. She could feel how hard he was, and she wanted to whimper, to make some high, uncontrolled noise at how perfect he was, the pleasure of every sensation, and so she let herself. She stopped trying not to gasp or moan or arch her back, and when he asked her what she liked, she told him, letting her words guide him to everywhere she wanted him. She did the same for him, until she was coaxing low moans from his throat that only made her more needy, made her want him more.
She let go of her worries that she wasn’t enough, her concerns that he wasn’t giving her all of him, and let her need for Ash overrule everything else. He kissed her and stroked her, reverent and hungry all at once, and she gave into her desire to see and touch all the parts of him she hadn’t had access to before tonight.
Each tingle was deeper and brighter than the last, until she was nothing but sensation. She bared all of herself to him, and Ash gasped against her neck, her lips, kissing her with a desperation that he hadn’t shown her before. It felt natural, and right, and more than she’d imagined it could be. She wondered how she’d ever thought of Ash as temporary, a fleeting Sunday distraction, when he’d so quickly, so thoroughly, become one of the most important people in her life.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Jess had had one guy in her room in Terence’s flat before Ash, but things hadn’t lasted long or been particularly great even while they were happening – Warren was always on his phone, or working out some deal for his property business, and she’d never been more than an item near the bottom of his to-do list.
Lying in her bed in Ash’s arms, as the Saturday morning sunshine crept beneath her thin blue curtains, she felt only bliss. It was as if her mattress and her duvet, her yeti cushions, had all become softer in the night, while Ash’s warm skin and strong arms wrapped around her, even while he slept. She felt as though everything was in exactly the right proportions, nothing off-kilter. It was safe, and too perfect, and terrifying, and she had to force herself not to slide out of his embrace so she could go and make coffee and think about it with some distance between them.
Ash’s arm shifted from her waist to her hip, and a low rumble came out of him as he turned, burying his head in her neck.
‘Hey,’ she said.
‘Hi.’ The affection in his voice made her forget about coffee. ‘You OK?’
‘Better than OK,’ she said truthfully. ‘I’m happy, and I’m tired.’ They hadn’t got a whole lot of sleep. ‘Do you have to go and... do things?’
‘I’m supposed to be playing rugby this afternoon. I’ve missed the last couple of weeks, and my friend Jay is on my back about it.’
‘I didn’t know you played rugby.’ She thought immediately of high tackles and shoulders being used as battering rams.
‘It’s just casual, not a league or anything, so they still play over the summer. It’s a laugh, and I get to burn off some energy. You’re working today? Have we got time for breakfast first?’
‘Not cold pizza,’ Jess said. They’d wolfed down a couple of slices the night before, though they hadn’t allocated a whole lot of time for eating, and the Prosecco remained untouched. ‘We could go to a café?’
‘I’d like that.’ Ash shifted on top of her and threaded his fingers through hers, pushing her arm above her head on the pillow so he could kiss her. ‘Probably none of them are open yet, though.’
It was half past six, and she knew at least two of the greasy spoons would already be serving tradesmen, but she kept that information to herself. ‘OK,’ she said. ‘So we could have some more sex before we go.’
Ash laughed, rewarding her by sliding his lips slowly from her ear lobe down the column of her neck, then pressing kisses into her collarbone. ‘Were my intentions not clear enough?’ he murmured as he reached her breast.
She smiled, arching her back at his touch. ‘Just making sure.’
Ash gave her an intense, incendiary look, and proceeded to show her that they were, most definitely, on the same page.
They went to a café called Daisy’s that was tucked into a side road, and ordered fry-ups.
Jess found herself watching Ash while he ate, the way he was careful, methodical about everything, as if he considered each mouthful before he put it on his fork. In bed he’d been the same, thoughtful and purposeful, responding to every move and sound she made, only losing control when he was close, as if it was the only time he let his thoughts switch off. She’d loved watching him come apart, collapse on top of her, knowing she’d been the reason.
Now, even more, she wanted to crack him open and see inside. While they ate and talked, she thought of the first time they met, how he’d seemed so calm and capable with Braden, even though he’d told her, afterwards, that he hadn’t had a clue what he was doing. She wanted all those admissions from him, perhaps because she felt a tugging need to share her own.
‘Do you visit your mum and dad?’ he asked. ‘I know you told me you’re not particularly close, but do you ever see them?’
‘Sometimes,’ Jess said. ‘They live in Bexleyheath, so it’s not exactly a stretch. And they’re angling for a visit – either from me, or to come here and take me to lunch.’
‘You’re not keen?’ Ash speared a mushroom with his fork.
‘It’s just complicated,’ she said, and here was a moment when she could be vulnerable with him. ‘We never really knitted together, after I went to live with them. And I... I told you, didn’t I, that I could invent where I came from, because I didn’t know for sure?’
Ash put his fork down. ‘I remember.’
‘Well, that’s not entirely true. I tracked down an aunt, through Genes Reunited. Once I could look at my records, when I was eighteen.’
