Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75699 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
We were facing each other on our sides, my head tucked near his neck, close enough so each inhale brought another intoxicating dose of Jonas. My bare stomach rested against his shirt-covered belly, making it so I could feel his every breath. My hand was resting on his biceps, and the smart thing would have been to remove it—and the rest of me—as soon as I was awake.
But as my high school grades clearly showed, I wasn’t that smart.
Instead, I lightly stroked his arm, measuring the curve of his muscle, tracing it down to where his hand lay loosely against my waist. His hands were larger than mine, wider with hairier forearms that had me wondering how fuzzy his chest was. I set my hand on his, comparing, then stroked back up his arm so I could coast down his shoulder and back.
Part of my curiosity was the novel opportunity to explore another guy outside of the confines of my own brain, and even that, I’d tried to limit. But this was also Jonas, and I’d spent the last twenty-four hours battling attraction and arousal both. I wasn’t simply curious about how any male chest would feel. I liked his. The fuzziness turned me on in a way nothing else ever had. Apparently, I had a thing for hairy? Who knew. But I liked everything I was discovering about Jonas.
Continuing my exploration, I tried deepening my breath so I could feel even more of the flex of his belly against mine. My cock was growing harder by the second, and I instinctively rocked my hips.
Oh.
Jonas was hard too. Did he like me touching him in his sleep or—
“What are you doing?” he mumbled into my hair.
Experimenting. The word was right there, but something told me Jonas wouldn’t take kindly to it. Instead, I went for the truth.
“I don’t know, but it feels good. Right.”
“Declan…” Jonas sighed but didn’t move away, which I took as a major win. “How is your head?”
“Better. Lots. Check my pupils.” I tilted my head so he could gaze directly into my eyes. Holy fuck. Looking deep into Jonas’s hazel eyes, centimeters away from mine, lips so close I could feel the warmth of his exhale was heady stuff.
“Your eyes look good.” His voice was husky with more than sleep. “Fine. They look fine.”
Continuing to hold his gaze, I did what I’d been longing to do for days and ran a thumb down his beard. I hadn’t intended to bring his face even closer, but I wasn’t about to argue with that result either. In fact, the easiest thing in the world was to try a barely there kiss, the lightest press of my lips against his.
“Oh.” We made the same sound at the same moment. Jonas’s eyes went wider and darker, surprise replaced by heat. He tightened his grip on my waist, holding me firmly against him.
“Can I do it again?” I whispered, wanting the chance at another kiss more than any holeshot or victory lap.
“We shouldn’t,” he murmured, staying exactly where he was.
“That’s not a no.” I leaned up for another soft kiss, letting myself linger this time. His beard was ticklish against the edges of my mouth, but his lips were soft and full. My tongue darted out without permission to lick along the seam of his mouth.
“It’s not a no.” He groaned low before returning the kiss. He matched my feathery intensity, little brushes of his lips until we were both groaning. I cupped his jaw to encourage more but got distracted by the rasp of his beard against my palm.
“Your beard feels good,” I whispered. The early hour encouraged cozy secrets and lowered voices, and the last thing I wanted to do was spook either of us back to the land of logic.
“So does yours.” Chuckling, he dragged his fingers down my cheek.
“Guess I need to shave.” My skin heated under his caress. I’d been more than a little lax on the shaving and hair styling front since the accident. To my mind, there was no point in looking good without cameras nearby, but I suddenly wanted to look red-carpet-ready for Jonas. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” He kissed my chin, tongue tracing the dimple lurking there. “Stubble looks hot on you.”
“You think I’m hot?” I couldn’t resist preening.
“You own a mirror.” Jonas rolled his eyes at me as he dropped his hand to my side, lightly tickling my ribs.
I squirmed against him. “So that’s a yes?”
“It’s a yes.” He groaned and claimed my mouth in the boldest kiss yet. If our first kisses had been all sweet, fluffy bites of cotton candy, this was a cannoli with layers of flavor and texture, an experience I couldn’t get enough of. My lips parted on a gasp, welcoming his tongue tangling with mine. Along with desire, a calm certainty settled over me. This. This was what kissing was supposed to be.