Nothing Feels Better (Better Love 3)

“Get what over with?” I can’t understand the clench of her jaw or the expressionless mask on her face. She was radiating with warmth and happiness thirty seconds ago, and now, she’s as cozy as a glacier. “Jocelyn. Get what over with?”

“You’re gonna end it. Right?” she says calmly. Her voice is so even that if I wasn’t paying attention, I’d think she felt nothing. But her hands are shaking, and her eyes are hard, and I know she feels everything. Before I can interrupt, she continues, “Long-distance is too hard and you don’t want to be tied to us anymore and you’re here to end it. I appreciate you not doing it over the phone, but just say it quickly and get it over with please.”

I can’t help it. I laugh. She couldn’t be more wrong. She couldn’t be more off base if she tried.

“Classic,” I say with a scoff, “when the hell are you going to get it through your head that I’m not going anywhere? I’m in love with you, remember? I’m not here to end it with you.”

“You’re not?”

She looks so confused, so lost, that my heart breaks a little. She’s so used to people letting her down. I won’t be one of those people.

“No,” I say more softly, then scoot closer and take her hands in mine.

“But you were so...subdued. So somber... And you just show up out of nowhere unannounced. And you’re not acting like yourself...”

I squeeze her hands and release another tired laugh.

“I’m subdued because I’m fucking exhausted. I’ve been traveling back and forth between Boston and Indiana for the last month, trying to convince the Dean at the IU Med School to let me transfer here.”

“What?” Her voice is so tiny that I almost can’t hear it.

“Yeah,” I say with a sigh, “and I came here unannounced because Dean Clark finally gave me the go-ahead, but I was going to let you make the final decision.”

“What? You’re...you’re transferring here? For med school. Here. For year two?”

“And three and four, hopefully. As long as you want me here.”

“As long as I want you here?”

Bless her, she’s in shock.

“Joss, I know you don’t like when I spring things on you. I’m sorry. I would have said something sooner, but I didn’t want to get your hopes up. I didn’t tell anyone. Not even the guys. It’s almost unheard of for a med school to let you transfer at all, let alone after only your first year. I wasn’t sure I could pull it off. I only told my parents because I had to get my mom on board to help argue my case with the deans. I found out yesterday that Dean Hollis at HMS and Dean Clark at IU have decided to approve my transfer request, so I came here as soon as I could to make sure you were okay with—”

“Yes,” she shouts.

“But you don’t—”

“I don’t care. Anything that will bring you here, with me, in this same state, is okay with me.” She crawls on my lap, her smile addictive and infectious and every kind of intoxicating.

“You’re not going to try and talk me into staying in Boston because Harvard is one of the top medical schools in the country?” I ask, putting my hands on her hips and fighting a smile.

“Nope.” She presses a kiss to my lips. “You’re a grown adult.” She kisses me again and runs her hands up my shirt. “You can make your own decisions.”

She pulls my shirt over my head, moving her lips to my neck, then hums against my skin. My eyes fall closed and my breathing kicks up.

“You know that if I do this, you’re stuck with me, right?” I say it teasingly, but I’m totally serious, and I roam my hands up and down her thighs. “You’re never getting rid of me. Or Steve.”

She giggles and takes my mouth again.

“I’m good with it,” she says, then bites my lower lip.

“And you’re okay with me living on the cul-de-sac?” I ask, and she jerks backward.

“What do you mean?”

“Riggs’s dad is hooking me up with one of the townhouses on the cul-de-sac.”

“Why? Live with me.”

Her eyes widen the same moment mine do, then we both laugh. I’m giddy. I’m so damn giddy.

“What if,” she amends slowly, “you live in the other townhouse for a few months, and we gradually warm the kids up to you moving in with us?”

“That sounds perfect.” I peel her shirt over her head and pepper her neck and chest with kisses. “Two weeks,” I promise. “Two more weeks, and then we won’t have to say another goodbye.”

“No more goodbyes,” she repeats, presses a kiss to my lips, then stands. I watch in awe as she shimmies out of her shorts and panties, then takes charge. “We have to make this quick,” she says with a laugh as she removes my pants, then drops to her knees in front of me.

Jocelyn takes my cock into her mouth without hesitation, and I hiss and drop my head back on the couch.

“Fuck, Classic, I’ve missed this mouth,” I grit out, trying not to lose myself completely to the soft, warm, wetness of her tongue gliding up and down my shaft and swirling my crown. When I pull her hair back and wrap it around my fist, she hums around me, making me shudder. I take a few moments to watch her bob up and down on my dick, to marvel at the way her cheeks hollow and expand. When she catches me watching her, she smirks around my cock, then pulls her mouth from me slowly.

“You can just watch if you want to,” she teases, “but I was kind of hoping you’d want to do a little more than this.”

“Yeah?” I question with a grin. “Like what?”

She licks up my shaft once more, and I tighten my hold on her hair.

“I want to ride you,” she says coyly, but I don’t miss the way her cheeks tinge pink when she adds, “and I want you to do that thing...with your fingers...”

Fuck me, my dick is a fucking stone pillar.

I pull her up and capture her lips, gripping her hips with both hands as she straddles me.

“I don’t have a condom,” I say between kisses, then grunt when she takes my dick in her hands and lines me up with her entrance.

“You can finish in my mouth,” she says, then sinks down onto me, leaving me breathless in more ways than one.

We moan in sync at the contact, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from losing my vision. When she starts to move on me, I run my hands up and down her sides roughly before grabbing onto her ass cheeks, spreading them apart, and squeezing. I thrust hard into her a few times, and a strangled yes falls from her lips.

“I dream of this body,” I grind out before taking one of her nipples into my mouth and sucking, reveling in the whimper it elicits from her. I press kisses all over her chest and neck. “I dream of fucking you, of you fucking me. I dream of tasting you. Do you dream of me, Classic?”