I blink. Is that what he’s been thinking about for the whole time in the car? “It’s not that bad a commute from here.”
“I know, but it would save you a lot of time, and if there’s one thing you’re going to need once you start school, it’s time.”
He has a point. However… “What about your work?”
He shrugs. “It shouldn’t be a problem. If it is, I’ll work something out. I can find another job—people always need firefighters.”
“But you’re set to be the fire chief.”
“Doesn’t matter. I’ll win the election or I won’t. If I do, then if we need to move, like I said—we’ll work something out. That’ll be up to me to sort out with the department.”
I still can’t quite get my head around what he’s saying. “I can’t ask you to do that, Jesse.”
“You didn’t ask me,” he says. “I offered.” He reaches out, drawing me against him. “We’re in this together, okay?”
I can’t help but think how much of a change this is. From how Christopher’s father treated me. From how my parents treat me. It’s almost more than I can get my head around.
Jesse seems to understand. “Maddy—this is how it’s supposed to be, all right? We support each other. This is important to you, so I make sacrifices.”
“And then someday I help you out.”
“Sure. If it comes up. If not, then it’s just something I did for you. Because I love you.” Again, slowly and firmly, he says, “That’s the way it’s supposed to work.”
He kisses me. At first it feels like encouragement, or reassurance. Then the kiss goes deeper, and he opens my mouth with his. When he draws back, he strokes my hair back from my face. “I love you,” he says again. His lips brush softly over mine.
“I love you, too.” I tip my head up for another kiss, and then suddenly he dips and lifts me into his arms. I laugh. “What are you doing?”
His grin is wicked. “I’m taking us back where all this started.” And he heads for the bathroom.
“Oh my God.” I wiggle in his arms, not really trying to get away, but acting like I am. His grip tightens.
“Hold still, woman. I am being a Neanderthal and hauling you into your shower.”
“You were hauling me out of the shower, if you’ll remember.”
“That’s okay. We’re doing a backward flashback.”
“All right. I’m not sure how that works. Shouldn’t you be walking backward?”
He abruptly swings around and starts doing exactly that, walking backward into the bathroom. I grab reflexively at him, looping my arms around his neck. “Look out for the”—his ass hits the door—“door,” I finish.
“Ow,” he says. “I didn’t really want to start this off with a doorknob up my ass.”
I reach around him and open the door so he can carry me through. He sets me on my feet and starts kissing me again before I can add any additional commentary. He’s pretty focused, his tongue sliding into my mouth to explore everything it can reach. I go up onto my tiptoes, trying to get as close to him as I can. I still can’t believe this man wants me. Loves me. How lucky am I that he was the one to come haul me naked out of my shower that night?
The thought makes me laugh again. “What?” Jesse asks, but I shake my head.
“Nothing. I’m just thinking how crazy it is you want to see me naked again.”
“I want to see you naked every day. Maybe I’ll just ban clothes from the house completely. What do you think of that?”
“I think that would make it hard to go grocery shopping.”
“This is a fair point.” He makes a show of mulling it over. “Maybe just no clothes on Sundays.” His hands slide under the edge of my shirt, and he pulls it up and off me. Bending, he kisses the tops of both my breasts where they plump out over my bra. “You are the softest thing in the world.”
I just hum in response; he’s quickly taking me to that place where I can’t really make words. It’s the best place. My favorite place.
Abruptly, though, he steps back. “Now,” he says, and turns toward the bathtub. “To make this authentic, we need to get the shower going.”
“You’re serious about this, aren’t you?”
“Of course I am. I’m a reenactor at heart. Except instead of reenacting the Civil War, I focus on my sexual conquests.”
“I see.” I cross my arms over my chest, giving him a look, but I can’t even keep up a pretense of annoyance for very long. I’m too wound up, too ready for him to take me into that shower and fuck me silly.
That neediness doesn’t abate as he bends to turn on the water. Damn, his ass looks good in those jeans. Bitable, really. I just watch, wondering what he’d do if I took a step over there and smacked that taut curve. When he looks up, I can tell my thoughts must be showing on my face.
“You look like you’re up to something evil,” he says. “I think you should tell me all about it.”
“I was just thinking about slapping your ass.”
“Oh, I see.” He sets his hands on my waist. “I think you should give in to those impulses when they pop up.”
I grab him by his waistband and jerk the button open then unzip him. His button-down shirt is tucked in, so I yank the tails out and unfasten the buttons not particularly carefully. None of them pop off, but it’s a close thing.
“Somebody’s eager.” He helps me by shrugging the shirt off over his shoulders, but then he can’t get his hands out through the buttoned-up cuffs. After some awkward struggling, I get the shirt the rest of the way off him and toss it to the floor then lick his torso from his navel to up between his nipples. He shivers.
“Is the water hot yet?” I ask him.
“I’m not sure I care.” But he turns to check the temperature, and apparently it’s all right, because he pulls the knob that redirects the water to the showerhead. A few seconds later the bathroom starts to steam up.
“If we want this really accurate,” I tell him, “we need to have loud music playing.”
“Fuck that. It’d take too long. I just want you naked.”
I’m okay with that plan. I unzip my jeans, but then he takes over, pulling them down my hips and leaving me standing in nothing but my underwear. Then he picks me up, puts me over his shoulder, and pulls open the shower curtain.
“Jesse! I’m not naked yet! And neither are you!”
He swats my ass, which is perfectly placed over his shoulder for his easy access. Then he grabs the waistband and pulls it down, leaving my panties hanging about mid-thigh.
“Mmmm, what have we here?” With me still dangling over his shoulder and the steam rolling into the bathroom, he slips two fingers between my thighs and finds the folds of my pussy. I’m already wet; his fingertips slide easily into the soft flesh.
“God.” It’s so precarious, hanging over his shoulder, only one arm holding me balanced there while his other hand teases me. But arousal is running hot up and down my body, and I hold still. The only move I make is to open my thighs as much as I can without disturbing my balance.
He swivels then, and I realize he’s turning so he can watch what he’s doing in the mirror. I want to cover my eyes at the thought of it, but I can’t see, anyway, so what does it matter?
“I like the look of that,” he says. “All pink and wet for me.”
He slides a finger inside and pumps it a few times, then withdraws it and squeezes my ass again. Setting me on my feet in the shower, he reaches around me to unfasten my bra, which is rapidly becoming drenched in the spray. He tosses it toward the towel rack then works on his own jeans, sliding them down and stepping out of them. He’s so hard in his cotton shorts I can see every detail of his erect cock—every vein, the ridge around the head, the small patch of wetness where he’s leaking pre-come. He sheds those, too, leaving them on the floor as he steps out of them and into the shower with me.
I’m so drenched by now—both with the water and with my own arousal—that his hands slide easily over my skin when he presses against me. He reaches up to jerk the shower curtain into place, which is good because there’s already water on the floor. My idea of afterplay doesn’t involve falling on wet tile and concussing myself, so I’m in favor of keeping the floor at least a little dry.
Before I can think too much about it, though, Jesse is going to his knees in front of me, burying his face between my legs. I let out a surprised squeak as he grabs my ass with both hands, pushing me closer to his mouth. His tongue strokes into my pussy, finding my clit. My arousal spikes so hard that for a minute I’m pretty sure I’m going to fall and concuss myself without ever having to step out of the shower.
His hair is plastered down to his head, water running over his eyes and nose, his mouth buried in my pussy, and I wonder how he can even breathe. Oxygen doesn’t seem to be a priority, though. His tongue stabs against me, rolling and teasing. I open my legs as much as I can, grabbing on to his hair for balance.
I’m trying to keep my voice down, but then I remember I don’t have to. We’re alone in the apartment. Maybe we’ll disturb a neighbor or two, but I don’t care. I don’t have to explain things to the neighbors like I’d have to explain them to Christopher. So I’m okay with them hearing me having incredible sex. They can just be jealous.