She was vaguely aware of Jonas moving his hand, gripping and lifting her ass while he rode her hard and fast to his release. She shuddered and gasped for breath as he collapsed on top of her. He kissed her shoulder, shifted so that the top of his body rested beside her on the bed but kept his hips glued to her ass.
“Incredible, Jacey,” he whispered. “You’re so incredible.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” she lied. He was amazing. Completely and utterly amazing.
He chuckled and shifted again. She moaned as he pulled his softening cock free of her ass and kissed the back of her head. “God, I love you,” he whispered.
She just sighed and snuggled deeper into the bed. She wanted him. Needed him in her life in ways she’d never wanted or needed anyone else. But was it love? Or would it fade as it had with every other guy she’d slept with? Would she still want Jonas tomorrow? Or the day after? A month from now? A year? She could feel the panic wanting to set in and did her best to restrain it. A day at a time. That was all she could do. One day at a time.
Chapter Six
Jacey awoke to the smell of bacon. Her stomach grumbled and she realized she was starving. She rolled over and stretched, feeling all the delicious aches and pains that one could expect after a great night of sex. And that was just what she’d had. A fucking incredible night of sex. The best night of sex in her life.
She grinned. Jonas was cooking breakfast. He was cooking for her, for them. She stepped out of the bed and moved toward his bathroom. She noted the damp towel and water droplets still on the shower door. Jonas must have already showered. She slid it open and flipped the water on before taking care of more pressing needs.
She found a new toothbrush on the counter by the sink and smiled. Did he think of everything? The water was wonderful. His soap smelled like Jonas and now she was going to smell like him all day as well. Stepping out, she wrapped a towel around her body and a second around her hair. No blow-dryer. No makeup. No clean clothes. She sighed. She really hadn’t thought this through.
Walking back into Jonas’ bedroom, she rummaged in his drawers until she found some boxers and pulled a pair on. Then she raided his closet for a shirt. She found a selection of T-shirts and grabbed one at random. Moving back into his bathroom, she cleaned up after herself, brushed her teeth and towel-dried her hair as best she could. Then she headed down to the smell of bacon and coffee, both of which she desperately wanted.
She stood in the kitchen doorway and just watched. Jonas had cleaned it up since they’d been in here last night. The clutter was gone. The dishes in the sink were gone. The bottle of whiskey was gone. He stood with his back to her, cooking French toast. She could see a plate piled high with what he’d already made.
“Are you just going to stand there and watch me or are you coming in?” he asked without turning away from what he was doing. “Coffee’s ready. Just finishing the French toast.”
“Smells incredible, Jonas,” she said, moving toward the coffeepot. “Need a cup?” She was as at home in his kitchen as she was in hers. Honestly, she probably spent more time in his kitchen then she did in her own.
“Please,” he said and she poured him a cup, leaving it black as he took it.
She noted that he’d set her creamer out for her. Funny. She’d never given it a thought before but Jonas tended to keep things in his kitchen, in his refrigerator, that were for her. The tea bags on the counter and the teakettle that she bet was only used when she was here. Her favorite creamer. She moved to open the fridge. Skim milk next to his two-percent, a jar of mayonnaise that she loved even though he never ate it, and other little things that she just hadn’t paid attention to.
What type of guy did that? Hell, even the guys she’d dated for a while never went to the effort of keeping her creamer at their house. But Jonas did. Jonas always had. He found out what she liked and the next time she was over he inevitably had it for her. How had she failed to see what was in front of her this entire time? He’d always cared about her, looked out for her, been there for her.
She walked over to him just as he turned with the plate of bacon in one hand, French toast in the other. As soon as he set them on the table she moved into him and hugged him close, leaning her head against his chest. His arms wrapped around her and held her tight. Comfort. Warmth. Acceptance. He offered them all. And love. He said he loved her.
“You okay?” he whispered against the top of her head.
“Yeah.” She nodded. “I’m wonderful.”
“Yeah?” he asked and used his hand to tip her face up to look at him.