Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 208(@200wpm)___ 167(@250wpm)___ 139(@300wpm)
His chuckle vibrates through my body. Jonas turns his head and kisses my temple. “Fuck, Blake, but I can’t get enough of you.” He leverages himself off me, but he doesn’t give me a chance to try to sit up. He simply scoops me into his arms and carries me out of the office. I expect him to take me to the bedroom, but he sets me on the couch and pulls the blanket from earlier around me. “Give me a second.”
“Take your time,” I say faintly. “I can’t feel my legs.”
He moves into the kitchen. “You okay with scotch?”
“Yes.” It’s not my go-to, but I can appreciate a good scotch.
He rustles around and then comes back into the living room to press a tumbler with amber liquid into my hands. Jonas sits next to me and pulls me closer, until my legs drape over his lap and he’s got his arms wrapped around me. We sit for several long minutes, sipping our scotch. He finally sighs. “That was intense.”
That startles a laugh out of me. “Intense might be understating it.”
“Are you…” He hesitates. “Are we good?”
I twist so I can see his face. He actually looks a little worried. “Yes. A thousand times yes. I…” Now it’s my turn to pick my words with care. “I like how nothing’s off-limits with you as long as we talk about it ahead of time. I’ve said it before, but I’ll say it again. I like the games we play. This one was more intense than before, but it was so hot.” I shiver. “I liked it a lot.”
“Me too.” He sets his glass aside and cups my neck. “Blake.”
This is where he lets me down softly. Where he very sternly, but gently, reminds me that this all ends tomorrow. A careful reestablishment of the boundaries we put in place yesterday. I’m not ready to come back down to reality. Not yet. I press my fingers to his lips. “I know it’s only the weekend. Can we just have this right now? At least until tomorrow?”
Do I imagine the disappointment in his eyes? I’m not certain. Jonas is so open in some ways, allowing me to the very heart of him, but when it comes to anything other than sex, he’s a bit of a mystery. I wasn’t lying before. From all the stories my father has told about him over the years, I feel like I know him.
That doesn’t mean I actually do know him, though.
Jonas finally nods. “Drink your scotch. It’ll put the bones back in your legs.”
“Maybe,” I mutter. But I settle back against him and take a sip. Being close like this feeds a completely different part of me than the fucking does. I’m a big cuddler, and I hadn’t realized how much I’ve been missing the contact with another person.
Or at least that’s what I tell myself as I finish my drink and set the glass down. I turn and nuzzle Jonas’s throat. “I don’t want to miss a moment of our time together.”
His chuckle rumbles against my nose. “You need some sleep if you’re going to be driving back to Seattle tomorrow.”
Another reminder of our limited time. It has panic fluttering in my veins. “I don’t want to sleep yet.”
“Blake.” There it is again, that tone that speaks of serious conversations and very clear boundaries.
My panic takes wings, spurring me into motion. I surge up and kiss him. We both taste of scotch, but it’s not the alcohol making my head spin. No, that’s purely Jonas. He allows the kiss for several long moments, but then he wraps a fist around my hair and leverages me a few inches away. Just enough to see the look on his face.
He looks…out of control.
As out of control as I feel.
He tightens his grip on my hair. “Problem, baby girl?”
“Of course not.” My voice is too hoarse, giving lie to my words. “Why would there be a problem?”
“That’s the question, isn’t it?” He moves before I find the words to answer, standing and tossing me over his shoulder. “We’re going to bed.”
“Jonas!” I cling to his waist as he walks through the living room and up the stairs to his bedroom. He drops me on the bed and he’s on me before I have a chance to get my bearings, using his bigger body to press me back into the mattress. Not that I’m complaining, not with panic still fluttering in my chest, my throat, on my tongue. There aren’t enough hours left in this weekend; nowhere near enough time to exorcise this man from my blood, my bones. This experience was supposed to be about getting him out of my system, but instead he’s in even deeper than before.
Jonas’s hands are in my hair, tugging my head to the side in a gentle, but unbreakable, grip. “You don’t want to talk about it.” His voice has gone low and rough. “You just want to fuck and pretend that it’s going to be easy for you to go back to your life tomorrow.”