Page 53 of Friends with Benefits

‘Jake,’ she whispers.

I know, in that word, she’s afraid. I’m inside her walls.

Yeah, well, she’s inside mine too. And I’m afraid. I’m afraid of this ruining everything. I’m afraid of losing her. But I’m more afraid of never making love to her, bigger and more meaningful than when we’ve been together before. Of never making love to a woman I am truly, unequivocally, in love with.

‘Shh.’ I press my lips to her left eyelid, then her right. She sighs as I tip her head back and bring my mouth to the skin of her neck, inhaling the scent of lemongrass from her spa day.

I take in every crease of her soft, pink lips before I cover them with mine. I part them with my tongue, savoring the taste of her, mixed with champagne, and delight in her groan.

I kiss her here, gently, tentatively, until her hands rise from her sides and she takes hold of my T-shirt, fisting it at my hips. She finally opens her eyes and I see they are full of unshed tears. The sight makes my chest tight. Is she feeling this too? God, I hope so.

I hope I haven’t called this wrong. And I pray we can get through her defenses. Because I need her. I need her to be more than the person who makes me laugh and smile. More than the person I depend on and who I want to be able to depend on me.

‘You’re beautiful, Jess.’

And I mean more than the way she looks. I’m talking about her soul. The way the shape of her fits the shape of me like we are supposed to be together. I see it now.

And I’m wondering why the hell I ever fought it. All because of Emily? It seems crazy now that feeling hurt and betrayed could have kept me away from Jess.

I close my eyes and pull back from her, resting a hand on the door above her head, steadying myself as the enormity of what I’m hearing in my own mind, what I’m feeling in every cell of my body, hits me.

She needs to be able to depend on me the way I know I can her. I’m here, forcing her to face her fears, and hoping to hell she can, for both of us. But maybe I’m pushing too hard, too fast.

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, keeping my eyes closed, trying to calm my racing heart. Begging her to fight through those fears.

When I open my eyes, hers are locked on mine. Her chest rises and falls with her deep breaths. Her lips part and she looks at me as if she’s taking in everything about me.

‘Kiss me, Jess. I won’t push you. I’m asking you. You’re in my head. You’ve been in my head every moment since I met you. So kiss me.’

She doesn’t move for what feels like a lifetime. I think she stops breathing. And my hope, my faith, falls away.

At least I tried. I put myself out there. And she doesn’t—

She clasps her hands around my nape and pulls my mouth back to hers. I take her hands above her head, pinning her to the door with my entire body. Craving her touch, all of her.

As the words of our songs drift into the room, I see images of us: laughing in bars, dancing, watching movies together, crashing a canoe in Hyde Park, rolling on sand, in the sea. For the first time, I’m not afraid. We have a past together, she is truly my female counterpart, and this makes me want her more.

It makes me want us. We’re perfect for each other. It’s blindingly obvious now.

I roll my hips against her as she presses her lips to my neck. ‘You taste salty,’ she whispers against my lobe.

‘I had a run in with the ocean.’

She pulls back and bites her lip, stopping her smile from spreading to her cheeks. But that move doesn’t distract me; it only makes my insatiable need deeper.

I’m lost to us. To her. And I don’t want to be anywhere else. I don’t want to think of anything else. I want to drown in her. I want her to bowl me over with her waves, hurtling me into a spin, taking me over, the way I know she can. She can have all of me.

I pull her lip from her teeth and nip it in my own, running my hands over her body, just not able to get enough of her.

She flips my cap to the ground and tugs on my hair as she kisses me back, showing me she wants me as much as I want her.

‘Jess, I’m… I…’

Don’t, Jake. Don’t say it. Don’t make her run.

She stops, shaking her head, seeming happy for me to keep those three words to myself, no matter how much I mean them. No matter how much I want her to move beyond her past and have faith in her future. Have faith in me.

‘No. Jake. I can’t.’

---