A Kiss for a Kiss (All In 4)

I break the kiss long enough to grind out, “I want in you.”

CHAPTER FOUR

The Perfect Distraction

Hanna

IN THE BACK of my mind, I recognize that now isn’t the best time for this. And that Jake and I need to have a very real discussion about what exactly we’re doing and that it should also probably stop, but today has been difficult on so many levels, I can’t find it in me to put the brakes on. I need this. I need him. Which is its own problem. One I’ll have to tackle before I leave on Sunday night.

But for now, I give myself over to sensation, to feeling good instead of conflicted, or sad, or lost.

“We can’t go back out there rumpled,” I mumble into his mouth as I loosen Jake’s tie.

“Good call.” His hands roam my curves with familiarity.

Because we’ve been doing this for months now. And tonight I feel a heightened level of desperation for him, knowing we can’t keep sleeping together indefinitely, that it’s going to end. And I feel a lot like I’m losing something else. Something bigger than I want to admit.

I quickly and carefully unbutton his shirt, all the while we’re still kissing. He tastes like scotch and faintly of cigar, probably because someone handed him one earlier and he wanted to be polite. I’ve never seen Jake smoke anything before.

I finally manage to get the last of his shirt buttons undone. I pull his tie over his head, messing up his hair in the process. I try to run my fingers through it to smooth it back into place, but he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry about it. You know your hands are going to be in it again anyway in a minute. I’ll fix it after.”

I’d say something cheeky, but he’s not wrong. I toss his tie on the chair and push his shirt over his shoulders and he helps by tugging it free from his arms. Just like his suit jacket, he pauses to carefully drape it over the chair in the corner of the bedroom.

For a moment, his back is turned, so I do a quick breath check, relieved that it mostly smells like the mint candies I’ve been eating all night to keep me from drinking too much wine and becoming even more emotional than I already am. Wine and feelings are a lethal combination for me. While I’m checking my breath, I’m also checking out Jake’s back and his backside.

It doesn’t matter that I’ve seen him naked dozens of times, I never get tired of the view. He’s in incredible shape. All toned muscles and broad back. He has the body of an athlete. Which I suppose makes sense since he works out with the boys he manages on a regular basis.

He’s also an avid swimmer and golfer. And every time we’ve gotten together for family events, summer parties, and that one weekend we all spent in Texas, he and I have ended up in bed together.

He turns back to me and I take a step forward, running my hands over his shoulders and down his chest. I lightly skip over his abs, fingers cresting the dips and planes until I reach his belt buckle.

Jake’s gaze dips down to where my fingers dance along the waistband of his dress pants.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’ve thought about this today, Hanna.” His voice is low and gravelly.

“About me ogling you while I undress you?” I pull on his belt, freeing the clasp.

He chuckles and exhales a long, slow breath as I pop the button and drag the zipper down. “About getting you out of this dress.” He takes my face in his hands. “About kissing you.”

He slants his mouth over mine, groaning as his tongue slips between my lips. I want to savor this experience. Drag it out and make it last. We haven’t had much alone time since I’ve been down for the wedding, and the past twenty-four hours have been a lot of heated looks and fleeting touches. It’s been building all day, like a symphony reaching its crescendo, bringing us here, to this moment.

I dip a single finger beneath the elastic of his boxer briefs and graze his erection, which kicks behind the cotton. I slide my hand inside the fabric and curl my fingers around his length. The first time we were together like this, I did a mental cheer, along with a virtual roundoff, backflip, and a booty shake, because, as I’d hoped, Jake does not disappoint.

In fact, he’s firmly rooted in the boyfriend dick department—not so big that walking is a chore for the next week, but ample enough that I’ll be pleasantly sore for a few days.

Jake breaks the kiss, one hand leaving my face to pull the waistband of his boxer briefs down, exposing his glorious erection, and threads his fingers between mine.