Page 38 of Mr. Brightside
He chuckles against my neck, but doesn’t stop working me over. His teeth pull on my earlobe as his breath warms my skin.
“I’ve been waiting to do that all week,” he confesses.
I work a hand between our bodies and press against his chest. “Then why didn’t you?”
He looks at me with his signature smirk and shrugs. “I remember how good it was when we were casual. I had a feeling this was going to be about a hundred times hotter. And I wanted to give you time. I wanted you to make sure this is what you want without making things murky because of sex.”
While reasonable, his answer shocks me. He still thinks about the few hookups we shared? And he purposely wanted to give me space to figure things out on my own?
“I can’t believe this is all so easy,” I marvel, wrapping my hands around his trim waist and pulling him closer to me.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“We just… we don’t know each other. Not really. And yet I feel so comfortable with you. So hot for you. So sure about what we’re doing. It’s not supposed to work like this.”
He tilts my chin up and holds it in place with his fingers. “How do you think it’s supposed to work, baby?”
He pins me to the bar with his hips, pressing hard enough that I can feel his erection through the seam of his jeans. I hold back a groan when I realize that, intentionally or not, he’s lined up his length right along my completely hard dick.
I need to stay focused—this is his go-to move. Or at least one of them. The man has more game and swagger than anyone I’ve ever met. For as open as he can be, Jake Whitely is also a master at shutting down and relying on sex when things start to feel too real.
I reach out and stroke the side of his face, willing him to feel my sincerity and not shy away from this moment. I want to know what he thinks. And now I’m genuinely curious about whether he’ll open up and not just brush me off.
“You know what I mean,” I try. “We’re not doing things the “right” way, and yet it all feels right to me. That’s scary to admit out loud. But it’s the truth.”
He doesn’t turn away from my touch, but he doesn’t lean into it, either. He’s preoccupied with watching me, considering his next move. I know him well enough to know that he’s deciding which version of himself he’s going to let me see.
I freeze when he speaks.
“I grew up thinking I’d never get married. It wasn’t something I wanted or respected. I didn’t… I didn’t think I’d get to have someone care about me in this way.”
He closes his eyes and gives his head an almost imperceptible shake before he returns his attention to me.
“So for you to agree to do this with me… to accept me, see me, push me, just like you’re doing now, when everyone else just lets me crack a joke and change the subject? All this feels like a bonus. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t how people traditionally do it. It’s the waywe’redoing it. And I gotta admit—I really like it. Mostly because I like who I’m doing it with.”
I’ll. Be. Damned.
His words are honest, his gaze intent. It takes an extra surge of effort on my part, but I don’t shy away from his praise. I soak it in, revel in it, let it fortify what I’ve known all along: this feels right. It feels hopeful. Beautiful.Real.
“I’m really excited to marry you tomorrow,” I confess. Because I am. As stupid, crazy, and lovesick as I might sound, I really, really am.
Instead of replying, he kisses me again. This time there’s less urgency to it, his kiss a slow, tantric caress. He explores my mouth with his tongue and squeezes my obliques as I feel his aura blend with mine. When he sucks on the tip of my tongue, I moan again, louder this time, as the snowballing pulse of desire inside me grows more intense with each passing second.
His hips piston into me in rhythm with his mouth, and I can’t help but wonder if we’re going to hook up right here, right now.
But in the most surprising move of the night, he abruptly pulls back. I’ve literally been on my knees in the walk-in cooler with him before—so I know it’s not modesty or even sanitation he’s worried about. Especially not now that he owns the damn place. But his gaze searches mine before he takes my face in both hands, smiles sincerely, and kisses me softly three times.
Once I catch my breath, reality hits me. He’s intentionally taking things slow. Just like he promised.
Jake shifts back on his heels and blows out a long breath, like he’s trying to find his own composure, then hits me with one of those giddy little-boy grins. He links our fingers and pulls me around the bar before I even know what’s happening.
“Come on, baby. Let’s go home.”
Chapter 18
Cory
Myeyesflyopen,and I frantically scan the exposed beams above me. It takes me only a second to remember where I am and why I’m here. Once I do? I’m even more panicked.