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“What do you want to drink?”
“Huh?” She peered up at me, the fear slipping away, but only for a moment.
“What would you like to drink? We have water, wine, weird seltzer things, beer…hell, I even think there’s milk in the fridge somewhere.”
“Beer,” she blurted.
I blinked at her.
“Beer is fine.”
“Beer it is.” I grabbed two beers from the fridge and a few extra napkins.
I sat next to Jessa on the couch, not as close as I would have liked, and opened her beer, passing it to her. She took a greedy gulp and then placed it down, peering over at me.
“Sit back and pull your feet up. I can move the table in.”
“I can’t cross my legs in this dress,” Jessa murmured and looked at her legs.
“You could take it off,” I blurted.
She spun a wild gaze my way, and I realized how bad that sounded.
“I mean, you didn’t need to dress up to come over here. I have some sweats you can put on if you’d like.”
“Just…” She paused and brought her legs up beneath her. Her dress gathered around her hips. “Don’t look. Are we watching a movie or what? I’m nervous as hell here.”
I navigated to the comedy I had picked out before she arrived and pressed play. I dragged the table closer, and we began to eat. I kept peeking at Jessa’s plate, wondering if I’d given her enough tomato sauce or if it was too much, if she needed more pasta, or even another beer. I barely watched the movie while we ate.
When she finished, I swooped her plate away and brought the dishes into the kitchen. I washed them quickly, wanting more time with her than with dirty dishes.
I turned, and Jessa was right behind me.
“Jesus,” I muttered, jumping back slightly.
“I’m sorry.” She frowned. “I figured I should get us some dessert.”
I didn’t want to admit that the only dessert I wanted was her. I couldn’t say that to her yet. I swallowed the words, and Jessa tilted her head to the side.
“Unless…you wanted somethingelsefor dessert?”
That dress was covering my dessert.
Christ, I hadn’t even kissed her yet. I couldn’t run straight toward sex without even knowing what her mouth tasted like. As much as I needed to taste the rest of her, I wanted her kiss more.
But…only when she was ready.
I pulled the cutlery drawer open and grabbed a butter knife without breaking eye contact with her. I flipped it and passed the handle side to her, not able to speak without the wordsI want to devour youslipping out.
Jessa cut us two squares of the dessert, and we ate them in the kitchen. They were delicious, but I knew they didn’t taste as good as she would.
She waited as I washed the knife, reaching for my hand to thread her fingers with mine. Jessa guided me back to the living room, stepped to the side, and faced me in front of the couch.
“How about therealdessert?”
CHAPTER17
JESSA
