I think I’m still processing everything that’s happened over the last few hours. Jonas is Michael. Jonas joined the app to get my attention.
I’m in love with Jonas Reeves, and every time the thought flutters to my mind, dances on the tip of my tongue, it becomes less scary.
We’re sitting in the back of the Uber he ordered, his hand is in mine, and Portland’s tall downtown buildings are slowly passing me by. It’s quiet out, even for a Tuesday seeing as it’s only ten o’clock, and yet deep inside me, an excitement is building.
It’s the strangest sensation dancing in my veins, anticipation and something that feels an awful lot like hope thrums beneath my skin, making me antsy and impatient.
It’s been so long since I’ve been to Jonas’s apartment. It was always easier for him to walk the couple of blocks to my place than it was for me to trek halfway across the city to get to his, and yet I’ve still been here so frequently I know it like the back of my hand.
The driver slows to a quiet street and stops in front of a large brick building. Jonas’s apartment building is old, built back when floor-to-ceiling windows didn’t yet exist, and I know beneath the window in his living area and bedroom are old cast iron radiators that are still used to heat the apartments. More than once he’s banged them with a heavy pot to get the air flowing. The first time I saw him do it, I was wrapped in the sheet from his bed that had ended up tangled and piled on the floor. I’d laughed as he grabbed the large pot sitting on his bedroom floor, telling him that only works in movies.
Sure enough, a few seconds later, warm air seeped into the room, and Jonas had grinned at me, asking, “What were you saying?”
We ended up not needing the heater that afternoon because he crawled into bed with me, pulled the comforter over both of us, and heated my body in a way that only skin-to-skin contact can.
I shiver at the memory, and Jonas’s hand squeezes mine. “You okay?”
“Yeah.” I nod and open the door. “Just remembering one of the first times I was here.”
I grin at him, unable to stop smiling so much. Everything is shifting so quickly between us and yet it feels so perfect. All my fear from earlier with Teagan is completely gone. Perhaps the champagne she handed me was laced with marijuana.
I shake my head and scrub my hands together, waiting for Jonas to meet me at the curb.
“You ready?” he asks, smiling down at me and holding out his hand. I take it, slide my fingers in between his, lacing our hands together, and nod once.
“I’ve never been more certain of anything in my life.”
He leads me to the building, quickly punching in his code, and as soon as we’re enclosed in the entryway, heat blasting us from every direction, my back is against the wall and his lips slam down against mine. We’re in view of the street, visible to anyone who drives by or who needs to leave or enter the building, and yet it’s the last thought in my mind as my hands grip his coat and I pull him harshly against me.
Our tongues slide against each other, my hands go to the back of his head. He’s bent over me, one hand on my lower back, and then he crouches, tugs, and lifts.
“Hey!” My legs wrap around his waist, and I cling to his shoulders, gripping the back of his neck as he lifts me with surprising speed.
“I can’t wait,” he groans into my neck. “I’ve wanted this for so damn long.”
I’ve never been so glad I’m so small and he’s so strong in my life. He carries me up the stairs to the second floor, his mouth staying on my neck, my jaw, anywhere he can kiss and touch and taste while being able to watch where he’s going. My head burrows into the crook of his neck even as my hips roll at the sensations spiking through me.
God. He’s so good at all of this. Like passion and love and emotions come so naturally to him when for me they’re always such a struggle.
When we reach his door, he sets me down on my feet, keeping his hand at my lower back. I slide down slowly, feeling his hardness, even through his coat, press against my stomach.
Yes. It’s been so long, I’m already hot, my core aching for him.
He fumbles with the key, and I press my fingers to my lips, smothering a giggle.
“What?” he says. His brown eyes are glassy, showing his fervent need to get inside.
I press my hand to his cheek. “I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who’s anxious.”
“I’m not anxious.” He turns the key. The door clicks and he pushes it open.
“You’re not?” I step closer to him, sliding my hand to his chest until my body is plastered against his.
“No. I’ve been fucking wanting this to happen for seven months, and now that I finally have you back and you’re soon going to be in my bed, I’m warning you now, I might never let you leave.”
“Hmm.” I tap my finger to my lips. “Like, you might handcuff and keep me tied to your bed as your own personal sex slave?”
“Now, there’s an idea. Get inside.”
I hurry in, almost skipping on my heels, and once I’m there, the door closes behind me and Jonas is at my back. His arms reach around to my front. He unbuttons my coat, peels it from my body like we suddenly have all the time in the world.
I suppose we do. But try telling that to my racing heart and my throbbing center. All this pent-up desire I’ve had for him for so long is in danger of exploding before we make it to his bedroom.
“Jonas,” I whisper his name as his lips press against the side of my throat. He’s always joked it’s my “on” button. One tiny kiss placed right where he’s nibbling, and I’m turned on. It’s the smallest thing, and it’s all it’s ever taken with him.
I spin in his arms and press my mouth to his, hands clinging to his waist and tugging at his shirt. He needed me outside. I need him now. He groans into my mouth, pushing me back until my back is against the door. Sliding his tongue inside, I’m already open, clinging to him and shoving his suit coat off his shoulders, my hands frantically working at his belt.
“Shit,” he whispers, pulling back. His chest heaves with every harsh breath he takes. My own is pounding just as rapidly and I can feel the rhythms of our beats even through our clothes. “I meant to take my time.”
My mouth is at his throat. Sliding across his heated flesh, my fingers finally undo his belt and the button of his pants. “Later. We can do that later.”
He curses again as I wrap my leg around his waist, my hot center against his hard bulge, and then his hand is at my thigh, sliding beneath my dress Thank the fashion gods for dresses and for pantyhose no longer being in style because his hand hits my skin, hot against cool flesh. Spikes of anticipated pleasure zing to my core, making me throb, needing him so damn badly.
“Slow later sounds like a good idea,” Jonas concedes before his mouth slams down against mine. His hand tangles in my hair, forcing my chin up, my back to arch, and I grind against him, already so close I can feel my first climax heating and spreading like a teenager making out on a parent’s couch. His hand goes between us, zipper lowered. Pants and boxers shoved to his ankles, and as he steps out of them, kicking them to who knows where and who cares where, I finally look down and see him in all his glory.
He’s so damn perfect. I unbutton his shirt, needing to see him, and his hands are at the hem of my dress, lifting it while I shove off his shirt, and then I lose sight of him as he rips off my dress. It joins a pile of clothes on the floor. I kick off my lace thong to add to the mix and then it’s us. Naked.
Panting.
And God, I’ve waited so long for him, I reach out and wrap my hand around his length. Hot velvet over hardness. He pushes into my grip, moaning as he presses his mouth to mine, pulling back and gasping, “Give me a sec. I need a condom.”
My grip on him tightens. I lick my lips, sealing in the taste of him. Now that I have him, I want to have all of him. Give myself to him in a way I never have before. “I’m on the pill.”
He flinches, closes his eyes, and presses his forehead to mine. “We’ll wait for that.”
Right. Because while there’s been no one since him, he’s had at least Ashley, and while I love that he wants to keep me safe and protected, the reality is a douse of cold water. I swallow harshly, unable to help the emotion that brings.
“Of course,” I whisper, although it sounds strangled, and because he’s Jonas, he notices.
“I’m sorry.” His voice is just as tortured.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for.” Except for me, because I’m currently sorry for so many things, and yet as he kisses me again, I know I have to get over this hurdle, too.
His hand presses my stomach until I’m plastered against the wall, and he pulls back from our kiss, a glint of deliciously wicked intent in his eyes. “Stay there.”
“Where else would I go?”
He bends down, digs through the pile of mess, finds a condom, and by the time he’s back to me, he’s sheathed himself, pumping his perfect length in his strong hand, and then he grabs my hips, lifts me so I have to wrap my legs around his waist.
He adjusts us and slides into me.
“Oh my God.” My head hits the walls as he fills me. His hand presses against the door by my head, arms bunching and flexing. And Good Lord, I’d forgotten how completely perfect he felt inside of me.
“Shit. So damn hot,” he says. Jonas drops his head to mine, sealing us together where an atom of space can’t be found between us, and as he kisses me again, he promises, “We’ll talk about that later, too. But you have to know even if there was someone else, it’s always been you, Caitlin.” As if to prove his point, he pulls back, slams inside of me again, groaning. “Always. Only you.”
I no longer care, no longer know why there’s anything I have been upset about since we walked into his apartment because with his scent of man, the hint of his shampoo, the way his body feels pressed against mine and lodged so deep inside of me, I’m no longer capable of producing another coherent thought besides my response.
“Only you. It’s always been you, Jonas.”
“Jesus,” he says, and kisses me again. He slams against me, hips moving, and then we’re clasping hands, and he gasps and as we come together, my sex pulsing around him as he finds his own release, I no longer care about other women in his life.
I only care that he’s now mine, and I’ll do whatever I need to do to keep him forever.