Page 79 of The Truth About You and Me
We lose ourselves in the kiss, Jack’s thoughts and my own bouncing off each other as his mouth presses against mine. His arms wrap around me, tighter. I can feel the strength of his biceps, feel the softness of my skin beneath his fingers.
You.
Taste like home.
More.
Stop.
No. Please.
Oh God.
His thoughts take form, no longer just words, but a whirlwind of images: a sense of apprehension battling against an image of my bare skin, the bones of my clavicle.
He pulls back. ‘Do you want me to stop?’
I can feel him trying to control his thoughts.
‘No. I don’t want you to stop.’
Excruciatingly slowly, he pulls back my hair, his warm lips skimming my collarbone.
‘You smell like lemons, like…’
Sunshine. Christ don’t say that… Shit.
‘Sunshine?’ I raise my eyebrow at him.
‘Sorry. For someone who spent their life surrounded by words, you’d think I could come up with something better.’
‘Stop talking, Jack.’ He lifts me, hands skirting along my spine. I can feel him swollen beneath his jeans. I’ve never felt lust like this. My hands reach up into his thick hair. I tug gently. His face lifts, mouth back on mine. My legs tighten around him. I pull back, cross my arms over my body and lift my jumper over my head. A string of words clash in Jack’s mind, a sense of awe, attraction, need.
‘You’re beautiful,’ he says. His voice is husky. He didn’t need to say it; I can hear the way he feels. He lifts my hair, makes a pathway of kisses along my neck. He brings his mouth away.
‘What’s wrong?’ I ask.
He holds my face in his hands, eyes searching mine. I can feel him trying to reorganise his thoughts, trying to form a sentence but the words are tripping over themselves.
Too fast.
‘It’s not. Too fast. I want this. I want you.’
I want you too.
‘I don’t want to rush things. We’re just getting to know each other.’
‘You’re not rushing me. This is my choice.’
Our mouths meet, and we’re lost again, in the taste of us. I pull back.
‘I want you to take me to bed, Jack.’ His eyes widen a touch, a flash of desire sparking behind them.
‘I… believe me, there is nothing that I want more, but?—’
‘We’ve wasted enough time already.’
‘You’re certain?’
