Page 135 of And Now, Back to You

I bare my teeth against the back of her shoulder, my sanity in pieces somewhere on the floor. “You can,” I rasp. I drift my hand down over her belly and swipe my fingers across her clit, trying to ease my way. She whines and I exhale a sharp sound. “That’s it. You’re perfect. A little more.”

She angles her body forward and takes the rest of me with sweet little rocks of her hips, her body shivering once I’m all the way inside her. She wiggles and groans and sighs and makes a thousand other tiny, bitten-off sounds that I want to sink my teeth into.

I hook my chin over her shoulder and stare down the length of her body. I can’t make out much, but what I can see makes me groan, my hips rocking under hers. The pink-tipped swell of her breasts as they bounce in time with each smooth roll of my body. My arm, a pale band across her middle as I hold her tight.

All blurry smudges of an indecent picture.

I wish I hadn’t thrown my glasses across the room when I put my mouth on her.

“Did you think about this?” I rumble below her ear. “In that hotel room?”

“Yes,” she breathes, chasing my hips, grinding down harder. Her hands plant on my thighs, working herself against me, her nails digging half-moons into my skin.

She laughs, breathless. “I thought it might be like this,” she says. Her hand finds mine and she tangles our fingers together. “That I would tell you what I want and you would take what you need. That I’d be so, so good to you, Jackson.”

I clench my teeth around a moan, then tighten my arm around her waist. I shift forward, kicking at the coffee table, pressing us down on the floor. I’ve never been like this before. Rough. Demanding. Taking instead of asking. Completely out of control.

“Put your hands—yeah, like that.” Delilah grips the edge of the coffee table and I roll back into her. She hiccups a sound that settles like a boulder at the base of my spine. “Fuck,” I breathe. “No.”

Delilah tosses her head back, looking at me over her shoulder. “No?”

I shake my head. “Want to see you.”

She laughs as I pull out of her and roll her over, letting me arrange her body against the carpet. I grab a random pillow and shove it under her hips, then press back inside. The way is easier now. She’s soft and warm and so, so wet. She stretches her arms above her head and yeah. This is better. This is what I needed.

All of Delilah. Right in front of me.

I slide my palm down her thigh while my hips work and press my thumb between her legs. I draw sloppy circles and her breath hitches.

“Jackson,” she breathes, and her body tightens around mine. Her knees ease wider and she says my name again, a sharp whisper that pinches and prods. “You’re going to make me come.”

“Good.”

Her orgasm steals her breath and then it steals mine. More heat, more wet, and that’s it. I’m gone. I grip her hips and work myself against her, lightning rocketing down my spine, pulsing through my body in time with her small panting breaths. I come with a deep groan as I collapse against her on the floor, my forehead against her shoulder, my body trembling.

It lasts a long time—the loud panting of my breathing and the tremors that shake free of Delilah’s body. I let myself sink further against her and brush soft, gentle kisses over every inch of skin I can reach. Her shoulder. The hollow of her throat. The faint impression of my teeth marks on the curve of her breast. She laughs when I hit a ticklish spot and I groan again, rocking my forehead against the space between her breasts.

Her fingers scratch through my hair. Down my neck. Her knuckles bump against the collar of my sweater and a breathless laugh slips out of her.

“Is your sweater still around your neck?” she laughs, sounding dazed.

I hug her body closer to mine, my arms around her middle. “I think so.” I peck a kiss against her shoulder. “I don’t know. I’m not really worried about it.”

She laughs and tries to wiggle out of my hold. I make a low sound of annoyance and grip her tighter. She reaches for something I can’t see, palm patting at the rug beneath us, shifting some of the pillows that tumbled free while I wrestled her to the floor, arm stretching and body twisting and—

“Here,” she says, easing my glasses over my face. Her thumbs rub at the curve of my ears. “Now you can see.”

I look at her smile, so wide her eyes crinkle shut. The tousle of her hair and the pink on her cheeks. My heart gives an unsteady thump, right in the middle of my chest.

I think I know what this feeling is. This ache. This . . . hollow wanting whenever she’s not around.

I think I fell in love with Delilah in the middle of a snowstorm.

My mouth opens, then shuts.

“Yeah.” I swallow hard. “I can see.”

DELILAH STEWART: The birds are singing, the clouds are clearing, and the sun is shining today, Baltimore!