Page 71 of She Doesn't Have a Clue
Kate turned her head, his face so close she couldn’t ignore the earnest roughness in his expression. “I was figuring it out.”
He grunted his doubt against the curve of her neck. “This whole weekend you’ve been testing the limits of my patience, and I think it’s only fair that I test yours.”
And he did, running his tongue from the nape of her neck down her spine to the top of her panties, his hands gravitating toward the curves of her ass like they couldn’t help themselves. She sighed into the pillows as his hands moved everywhere, sliding up the sides of her hips and into the dip of her waist, tickling the sensitive skin under her arms before cupping her breasts and rolling her nipples.
“Your tits are amazing,” he breathed against her neck. “A perfect handful.”
“Jake, I want to touch you,” Kate whispered, squirming back against the weight of him pressed to one side of her.
“Who am I to deny a lady?” he said, smiling as he let her turn in his arms.
Her hands went to the waistband of his underwear, her fingers sweeping just below the elastic in the same teasing motion he’d used on her only moments ago. He sucked in a breath and let it out in a sigh, kissing her as either a reward or a distraction.
Kate let herself touch Jake everywhere she’d always imagined touching him, along the tight ridges of his abdomen, down the rock-hard length of his thighs, and gently over the scars from his accident. He explored her as she explored him, touching and tasting and teasing until Kate was moaning and begging, driven to the edge of her patience as he promised.
“If you want something, Kate, all you have to do is ask,” he teased against her mouth as he slid the lace of her panties lower, exposing more of her skin to his fingers.
“I want you,” Kate said, repaying the favor and sliding his boxer briefs down. “Oh, you’re so…”
“So what?” Jake asked, grinning as he kissed down her neck toward her breasts.
“So… thick,” Kate said, biting her lip as she wrapped her hand around him. “Ohhhh.”
“Keep doing that,” Jake said roughly, putting his hand over hers and moving her up and down. He was hot and smooth in her hand, growing longer and thicker as she worked him up and down.
“Do you have anything?” Kate whispered, afraid to break the spell.
“Ah,” Jake said, leaning over the edge of the bed and rustling around until he came up with a black foil wrapper. “For emergencies.”
Kate frowned at it. “Where did you get that?”
“My wallet,” Jake said, tearing open the top.
“Not next to the emergency toothpick, I hope,” Kate said.
Jake grinned. “No.”
And then she didn’t really care if it was next to the emergency toothpick or not, because Jake was laying her back and hooking his hand under one knee to make room for his body between her legs. And then he was easing into her in little rocking motions, his solid thickness stretching her with each motion, the movements making slick noises until he slid all the way in and they both groaned as their groins connected. He stopped there, giving them a moment to adjust, and all Kate could do was look up at him.
She’d never been this close to Jake, not in all their years of friendship and all her years of not-so-quiet pining. She’d thought she knew every aspect of him, but up close he was more flawed, which somehow made him more perfect. He had a small scar above his left eyebrow, and his ears stuck out more than she realized, the effect minimized by the length of his hair. It made her want to tug on one playfully.
There were so many things to discover, but this was still Jake. Jake, who had been her first and most enthusiastic fan when he’d encouraged her to finish the original Loretta novel; who’d made a game of trying new restaurants each time they met to discuss theWandering Australianseries; who always brought her takeout when they were on deadline; who had so gamely played the role of partner in crime-solving all weekend despite its many dangerous twists and turns; the true inspiration for Blake (though she’d die before she admitted it to him or Spencer at this point). The man who had introduced her to so many new places and people and experiences, who had truly opened up Seattle in a way she’d never managed to crack before meeting him. The man who had finally made a place she’d once thought of as just a city she lived in truly feel like home. The man she’d built so many fantasies on, and now he was inside her.
“Kate,” he said, brushing his lips against her temple. “Is this okay?”
He wasn’t experiencing the same rising tide of emotions that she was; he couldn’t be. Because it had robbed her of the power of speech, had taken up all the extra room in her throat until she felt she might choke on the emotion. This was her Jake, but he wasn’t her Jake. He never would be. She’d go back to her one-bedroom apartment and he’d pack another bag for some new exotic destination and it would be months, maybe years, before she saw him again. When she hadn’t been this close to him, she’d convinced herself she could handle it. But now, he was too close, her heart too unguarded, and even as she tried to steady her breathing and keep her chest from bursting open and offering her heart up on a platter to him, tears welled in the corners of her eyes and spilled down her temples, pooling into her ears.
“Kate,” Jake said, pulling back to look down at her. His expression so full of concern. “We can stop. It’s all right.”
“No,” Kate said, shaking her head. “I don’t want to stop. I just…”
How could she tell him? How could she express the feelings she’d buried so deep she’d been afraid to admit them to herself? She was too overwhelmed, too stripped bare physically and emotionally to lie to herself now. It was Jake. It had always been Jake. It always would be Jake, even when she knew it never could be Jake.
But she couldn’t say any of that out loud, not now, not ever. All she could do was reach up and cup his face with her hands to pull him down into a kiss, pouring all of the things she couldn’t say into the gesture. Itwas the closest she could ever get to telling Jake how she really felt about him, and she made it count, canting her hips up so that he sunk another inch deeper into her. He groaned against her mouth, drawing back and sliding in, setting an intense rhythm that quickly had both of them panting against each other.
“God, you’re so wet,” Jake said. “You feel… Kate, you feel so fucking amazing. You’re so fucking amazing. I’ve never… I can’t…”
His breathing turned ragged and harsh, his thrusts bordering on frenetic, his muscles slicked in sweat. Kate ran her hands up his back, so gentle over his scars, until she reached his shoulders. She dug her nails in hard, reaching up to whisper in his ear.