Page 25 of Curious Hearts (The Healing Hearts #2)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Ali gripped the steering wheel, a delicious ache building between her legs.

Six days since their first night together, and she still couldn’t think straight around Jessica.

She’d been making the drive to the Victorian house each evening, Chairman Meow grudgingly accepting his role as chaperone, and every time Jessica opened the door, Ali’s body responded like a tuning fork struck at the perfect pitch.

Tonight was different. Tonight, Jessica would meet Yaya.

Ali shifted in the driver’s seat, trying to ignore the persistent throb of need.

Jessica had been a revelation—confident, commanding in bed in ways Ali never expected from the buttoned-up investment director.

The memory of Jessica’s voice, low and authoritative, telling her exactly what she wanted, made Ali press her thighs together as she turned onto North Downing Street.

“Focus,” she muttered to herself as Waffle panted cheerfully from the passenger seat. Chairman Meow, nestled in his carrier, offered a judgmental meow. “I know, I know. I’m acting like a teenager.”

But God, she couldn’t help it. Jessica Taylor had dismantled her piece by piece in the sexiest way possible.

They’d barely left the bedroom outside of work, emerging only for food and to feed the cats.

By Friday, Ali had been deliciously sore, her body bearing light marks from Jessica’s fingers and teeth, and she’d wanted more.

The Victorian came into view, and Ali’s pulse quickened. Something had shifted between them since that first night—a deepening connection that went beyond the physical, though the physical was... unbelievable. Jessica was letting her in, not just into her bed, but into her life.

Ali parked behind Jessica’s fancy electric car and checked her reflection in the rearview mirror. Her hair was a lost cause, dark waves refusing to behave despite her best efforts. She reached for the small bouquet of sunflowers on the back seat—not for Jessica, but for Yaya.

“Best behavior,” she told both animals as she gathered her things. Waffle wagged his tail in agreement while Chairman Meow somehow managed to look insulted from inside his carrier.

She didn’t need to knock anymore. Jessica had given her a key yesterday, casually pressing it into her palm with a murmured, “In the event of gift-wrapped live rats,” though Ali knew there was more to it than a fear of Empress’s presents.

She juggled the carrier, Waffle’s leash, and the flowers to unlock the door.

“Jessica?” she called, stepping into the foyer.

Ernest greeted her with his usual slow blink from his perch on the new cat shelf.

Mr. Darcy remained aloof on the highest platform, acknowledging her presence with the barest twitch of his tail.

The other cats had grown accustomed to her daily visits, and even Empress occasionally graced them with her presence.

“Upstairs,” Jessica called. “Just finishing up.”

Ali placed down a bowl of water for Waffle and opened Chairman Meow’s carrier. The animals were frequent visitors now, Waffle trotting to his favorite spot by the window, Chairman Meow making his way to the kitchen where he knew treats awaited.

Ali climbed the stairs, anticipation building with each step.

She found Jessica in the bedroom, standing before the full-length mirror, adjusting the thin strap of a summer dress that stole Ali’s breath.

The fabric was a deep cherry with a floral print that complemented her amber-brown skin, flowing just above her knees.

Her dark curls were loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back in her usual professional style.

Ali stopped in the doorway, temporarily forgetting how to speak.

Jessica caught her eyes in the mirror and smiled—not the measured expression she showed the world, but the genuine one she seemed to save just for Ali. “What do you think? Appropriate for meeting Yaya?”

Ali crossed the room in three strides, coming up behind Jessica to place her hands on her hips. “You look beautiful,” she said, voice rough with desire. She pressed her lips to the curve where Jessica’s neck met her shoulder, breathing in jasmine and warm skin. “Absolutely stunning.”

Jessica leaned back against her, eyes closing briefly at the contact. “I wasn’t sure. I want to impress without going overboard.”

“Trust me,” Ali murmured against her skin, “Yaya will approve.”

She slid her hands from Jessica’s hips to her waist, then higher, tracing the curve of her ribs through the thin fabric. Jessica’s breath hitched as Ali’s thumbs brushed the undersides of her breasts.

“We’ll be late,” Jessica warned, though she made no move to pull away.

“Yaya expects it,” Ali replied, meeting Jessica’s eyes in the mirror as her hands continued their exploration. “It’s part of her cultural understanding that young couples are chronically tardy.”

Jessica turned in her arms, wrapping her arms around Ali’s neck. “Is that so? And exactly how late would be appropriate?” She dropped her hand between them, slipping to the waistband of Ali’s linen pants.

Ali answered by capturing Jessica’s mouth in a kiss that started gentle but quickly deepened as Jessica pressed against her, her hand firmly against the pant seam where she knew it would have maximum effect.

The past few days had taught Ali how responsive Jessica was, how quickly she moved from composed to desperate with the right touch, but equally Jessica could turn Ali into a quivering, aching mess in even less time.

Jessica walked her backward until her legs hit the edge of the bed, never breaking the kiss. Jessica’s other hand found the hem of Ali’s shirt, slipping beneath to touch warm skin.

“We shouldn’t,” Jessica murmured, as her touch grew firmer.

“Probably not,” Ali agreed, trailing kisses down Jessica’s throat, delighting in the soft sounds she made.

Her hands tangled in Jessica’s hair, guiding her mouth back up for another kiss. The kiss was hungry, demanding, Jessica taking control as she had each night since their first time. The shift in dynamic still thrilled Ali—watching Jessica transform from corporate professional to confident lover.

“I want you,” Ali whispered against her lips.

Jessica smiled, slow and knowing. She lifted her hands to Ali’s shoulders and pushed her back just enough to break contact. “I know,” she said, her voice dropping to that authoritative tone that made Ali’s knees weak. “And you’ll have me. After dinner.”

Ali groaned, resting her forehead against Jessica’s. “You’re cruel.”

“I’m a strategist,” Jessica corrected, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “Consider it motivation for a prompt departure from Yaya’s.”

She stepped around Ali, smoothing her dress, though Ali noticed the slight tremble in her fingers and the flush spreading across her chest.

“Are you nervous?” Ali asked, following Jessica to the dresser where she selected a pair of understated silver earrings.

“I am,” Jessica admitted, surprising Ali with her candor. “This is important to you. Yaya and your friends—they’re your family. I want them to like me.”

The admission made Ali’s chest tighten. She moved behind Jessica again, this time simply wrapping her arms around her waist and resting her chin on her shoulder.

“They’ll love you,” she said softly. “Because I—” Ali stopped, the word catching in her throat. Too soon. Much too soon. “Because I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jessica turned in her arms, studying Ali’s face. Something flashed in her eyes—recognition, perhaps, of what Ali had almost said. She touched Ali’s cheek gently. “Let’s not keep Yaya waiting.”

As they gathered their things and corralled the animals—Waffle would join them, but Chairman Meow would stay with his new feline friends—Ali watched Jessica move through the house as though she had always lived there.

She remembered the rigid woman who had greeted her that first day, horrified by cat hair on her designer suit.

Now Jessica bent to scratch Ernest behind the ears and even allowed Mr. Darcy to inspect her dress before leaving.

In the car, Jessica reached across the console to take Ali’s hand, their fingers intertwining naturally. “Tell me more about Yaya. I want to be prepared.”

Ali smiled, squeezing her hand. “Yaya defies preparation. She’s a force of nature who believes it’s her divine mission to feed everyone until they can barely move and extract personal information with the skill of a CIA interrogator.”

“Sounds like a challenge,” Jessica replied, her professional confidence returning. “I’ve handled hostile takeovers, I’m sure I can handle an octogenarian.”

Ali laughed, remembering Yaya’s determination to assess Jessica’s worthiness. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As they drove toward the evening sun, Jessica’s hand in hers, Waffle’s happy presence in the back seat, and the anticipation of introducing the woman who had so quickly become significant in her life to the family who had been part of helping her rebuild it, Ali said a silent thank you.

An acknowledgment of gratitude for the day.

She pushed aside the nagging voice that whispered caution.

Tonight wasn’t about the future or what complications might arise.

Tonight was about now—the delicious ache of want, the warmth of connection, and the simple joy of being seen by someone who somehow found beauty in her chaos—as well as finding her irresistible. Wonders would never cease.