“I love that you take an interest in environmental science, too, even though it’s so different from what you’re studying. I love you from the very tips of your toes to the top of your head.” I tapped him gently on the top of said head.
“But I hate that your hair doesn’t take any effort to do because mine’s a bitch.”
Chuckling, he tugged another curl. “Your hair’s awesome, and if you ever change it I’ll still love you as much as I do now, but I’ll miss it.”
“I’ll make you a wig out of it in case your hair stops being low maintenance when you get older.”
Dropping his head so that his forehead was resting on my collarbone, he started laughing again.
“Deal,” he whispered. “But you’re growing old with me, so you’ll have to style my wig for me.”
The prospect of growing old with Jackson was like someone handing me the winning lottery numbers. I wanted it to happen badly.
When he felt and heard my breath hitch, he lifted his head back up, and one side of his mouth lifted in a smile. “Yeah, we’ll grow old together. I’ll wash your hair for you, and you can wash my wig for me.”
“You’re on.”
It felt like another pivotal turning point in our relationship. One where we knew this wasn’t just a walk in the park.
People got together, they fell in love or professed their love, but then they split up and moved onto someone else. I wasn’t sure I’d ever survive losing Jackson, and I sure as hell wouldn’t just be able to move on if we broke up. I knew he felt the same way now, and that made my heart feel like it was going to burst.
“What are you thinking now?” he murmured, kissing me softly.
“I’m wondering if my heart could burst inside my chest because it’s so full and happy.”
He grinned against my lips this time. “That’s another thing I love about you—that I never know what’s going to come out of your mouth next.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. My cousins and dads had pointed it out to me for years, but no matter what I did, it just happened. A bit like talking, singing, shouting, and reciting lines from movies that I didn’t know when I was awake. The good thing was, though, that all of the things I thought were a negative for me were a positive for him.
I was just about to say something back to him when he reared up suddenly and flipped me onto my stomach. One second I was breathing the same air as him, the next, I was being smothered by my pillow.
I had a miniscule second where I froze, wondering if I was in a situation like the crime shows he watched at night where the man snuffed out the woman. But then I realized he wasn’t holding my head in place and turned it to the side, gulping in lungful’s of oxygen.
“Jesus, I thought you were trying to kill me.”
“By smothering you with a pillow? No. But there’s something else that I want you to experience.”
He sounded so gruff that I tried to make a joke out of the situation. “If it’s your penis, I’ve felt it already.”
“It involves that part of my anatomy, yes,” he admitted, slowly pulling down my panties. “But I figured there was another muscle I’d use first.”
Frowning, I tried to get my brain to work with me on figuring out what the hell he was on about, but then he skimmed his fingers between my folds, dipping the tip of them into my entrance, and my brain screamed, “Oh, who fucking cares!”
Which was probably just as well because when I felt his soft hair rubbing along the insides of my thighs, I realized what his intention was and almost shot out of bed.
We might have been together long enough for me to be more confident when it came to sex, but that didn’t mean I was comfortable with certain positions.
Him lying on his back while I braced on my knees and elbows over his face was one of them. All I could picture mentally was him staring up my vagina.
Then came the ‘what ifs.’
What if I had an ugly vagina?
What if his chin rubbed my ass hole? I wasn’t sure I was okay with that. I mean, everyone had one, but still.
What if I accidentally smothered him?
What if my stomach lay over his eyes? I wasn’t muscular and had zero intentions of ever being that way. I was happy just to be fit through normal activities instead of taking part in crazy workout programs, lifting weights, and doing weird diets every other week. I was a human being who swam, walked, ran when I needed to, and ate relatively healthily, but what if something dropped forward and landed on his face?