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As we kiss, Jakob takes one of my hands and turns it over, running his thumb over the inside my palm. That small sensation feels so exciting, so intimate, I let out an embarrassing little sigh. His tongue slips into my mouth, and I receive it wantonly.
This day may just turn into something better than curling up with wine and a good book—my usual day-off activity.
The noise of the engine, of the children arguing over snacks, and the squeaking of brakes all fade into faint background noise.
All I see and taste and smell is my sweet, hot, flirty, and sexy friend, Jakob.
Is this what friends with benefits is? Because I can see the appeal. Kissing Jakob is enough to get me to agree to anything, and friends with benefits appears high on that list.
And then I remember the sad truth that Jakob will find out if I let things progress any further.
That I’m a 29-year-old virgin with no experience in the bedroom. If he finds out, he’s going to think I’ve been saving myself for our silly marriage pact, and that would be the ultimate humiliation.
8
Jakob
Jo’s kiss makes me forget the worries of the world that bear down on me daily.
Her sturdy frame feels perfect leaning against mine. Her soft lips conjure up all sorts of ideas. Things I’ve never done and things I’d very much like to do with her now that we’ve found each other again.
I hadn’t assumed we’d share such strong chemistry this quickly upon meeting again, but I’m ecstatic about it.
Sitting next to Jo makes it difficult to wrap her up in my arms the way I want to. It’s doubly frustrating as we’ve talked for hours, and now all I want to do is hold her and kiss her and assure her that I’m not going anywhere.
Her soft moans and little sighs make me crazy with need. If she’s not careful, she’s going to draw attention to the back of the bus. But I just don’t want to stop kissing her, tasting her mouth, her lips and her teeth with my tongue. I don’t want to stop making her shiver as my thumb strokes over the inside of her palm.
Her reactions are a drug. Jo was so stiff and measured when we met on the platform, but now she’s more relaxed and comfortable around me, melting into my kiss. She is all softness and surrender now. So sweet and exciting, her every touch, every sound making my ache grow.
The bus finally comes to a halt at the small station in Mirror Lake.
As much as I would love nothing more than to drag her into the nearest motel room, I did tell her I wanted to see her village. Damn my gentlemanly principles.
Together, we exit the shuttle bus and say our goodbyes to our littlest traveling companion, Julia, who’s already squealing at the sight of the beach, snow-cones, and waterslide.
Jo leads me down the cobbled streets of Mirror Lake, past fudge shops and ice cream parlors and pubs. She points out the small grocery store where she works. It pleases me that she doesn’t let go of my hand when people she knows stop to chat and eye me curiously.
One such excited character steps out of an alley and claps her hands at the sight of us. “Josephine!”
“Sabine, good afternoon,” Josephine says politely.
“I was just cleaning up after the lunch rush and saw you headed this way with this very tall, very handsome man, and I had to see for myself. Hello!” Sabine sticks her hand out in greeting.
At least she doesn’t pretend she’s not curious. I shake her hand. “Nice to meet you. I’m Jakob.”
She squints at me teasingly. “There’s a city accent!” Sabine turns to Josephine. “Sweetie, did you snag yourself a rich tourist at the cheese counter? It’s about time!”
I squeeze Josephine’s hand as she blushes. To her credit, she maintains her composure. “No, don’t be silly, Sabine. It was in produce! I helped him find his cucumber.”
Shocked, Sabine explodes in bawdy laughter, pointing and winking at the both of us together. “Love has massively helped your sense of humor, dear,” she remarks.
I push aside the pit of sadness that emerges as I think of all the good times and jokes I’ve missed with Jo because of whatever circumstances befell our letters.
Instead, I remind myself that I’m here now, and we don’t have to waste another minute.
Sabine continues sweeping the sidewalk, and we make our way to the other end of the lane.
“I appreciate that you offered no one an explanation of who I am.”
