“Mature? We’re talking about maturity? You just blew up at me in a bar for talking to another guy.”
“I’m not the one who broke things off!” he yelled, his chest heaving as he grew breathless with anger. “I get to flirt with other girls. But I haven’t! I haven’t touched a single girl since you left me because I can’t let you go! And I f**king hate you for it, Charley!”
I flinched, unbearable pain radiating from my chest—it was like he’d punched his fist through it.
“But do you know what I hate more?” he said quietly now, his voice hoarse.
I shook my head, battling the tears that were fighting to fill my eyes.
“I hate how much I still need you,” he whispered.
I didn’t know which one of us moved first.
One minute I was standing by the door and the next I was in Jake’s arms as he crushed his mouth down over mine.
I also don’t know what happened to me in that moment. For months I felt like my life had been suspended—I wasn’t moving in any direction. Moreover, I was struggling with the constant confusion and my mixed-up heart and emotions over the choices I’d made. Giving into Jake may have been wrong but just then, it was a choice I understood, it was a choice that felt good, simple…
More than that, I felt alive again.
We undressed one another, frantic, desperate… our movements hurried with frustration and longing. We didn’t take our time at all. We were naked and then we were on the bed and then Jake was inside me.
Together we came hard and fast.
And I didn’t have time to regret it because Jake pulled me back under the spell I’d let us cast over ourselves. He kissed me slow, leisurely, tasting me as if he’d never get the chance again. I kissed him back just as deeply, holding onto him for dear life, my fingers curled in his thick, dark hair that was longer now since the last time I’d touched it.
Jake kissed his way from my lips, across my jaw, down my neck…
I sighed, feeling the heat build inside me again as his lips touched me everywhere. When his lips wrapped around my nipple, I gasped, arching into him. He licked my nipple, coaxing it into a tight bud while he stroked his thumb over my other one.
Delicious pressure was building between my legs.
“Jake,” I gasped, my breathing shallow as the heat flooded my entire body.
He took his time—butterfly kisses down my stomach, fingertips gently stroking my br**sts, across my ribs, as he moved down.
Jake looked up at me from under his lashes and I felt another insistent tug at my core. “Do you want my mouth?”
My breath hitched and I moved my legs apart. “Always,” I whispered before the insistent voice in the back of my head could stop me—could stop any of this.
At the first touch of his tongue, I nearly came off the bed. It felt like years since we’d last had this. I parted my legs even wider, my pants increasing in volume as Jake licked me, played me, until the pressure inside me was close to exploding.
And then he sucked on my clit and I split apart.
I shuddered through my orgasm as Jake crawled back over me, his hands braced on either side of my head, his eyes searing into mine… He pushed inside me and I cried out at the sensation. He groaned deep in his throat as my inner muscles tightened around him and he began to thrust, slow, deep, and I felt the tension inside me start to build again. My fingers dug into his biceps as he strained over me and I arched under him, moving in rhythm against this new seduction.
He wanted me to come again before he did.
Sweat slickened both our bodies and Jake’s muscles strained with his effort to stay his own orgasm.
Unconsciously, I dragged my nails down his arms as my climax approached. I stiffened and felt Jake’s thrusts speed up, his grunts of pleasure echoing in my ears and finally piercing through the tension.
I cried out, my eyes rolling in a flutter as the intensity of this washed over me.
“Jesus… fuck…” Jake’s words were guttural as I felt him stiffen. And then his hips jerked against mine as he came inside me.
His weight pinned me to the bed as he collapsed. I stroked his hair with one hand while the other stroked his sweat-dampened skin.
Slowly the power of our longing diminished enough for reality to sink in.
My hands stilled.
Jake tensed and then slowly lifted his head to look down into my eyes. “You’re going to tell me this was a mistake, aren’t you?” he said grimly.
Chapter Sixteen
I don’t really remember how Jake and my friends got me out of the restaurant. Or how I got packed. Or how I ended up on a plane sandwiched between Jake and Claudia. It was like the world around me faded out, just a blur of color. There was no room inside me to concentrate on anything but getting to my sister and hoping I’d get to her in time.
Claudia would tell me later when I asked for him that Jake went home to his parents rather than come to the hospital because he didn’t want to upset my family any more than they already were. I didn’t remember that. All I remembered was rushing into Northwestern Memorial, exhausted but somehow wired at the same time. It was a weird feeling. My body didn’t feel like mine. I felt like I was floating.
My parents and Rick greeted me, hugged me. I remembered it because their expressions were the first thing since hearing the news that brought me into the real world, into the reality of what we were dealing with. The bleakness in my parents’ eyes, the desperation in Rick’s… it had me pushing past them into the hospital room.
I’d stumbled, disbelieving the sight before me.
Andie lay there. She seemed frozen beneath the tubes and the ventilator. It was almost like it wasn’t her. It was just her body.
“What happened?” Claudia said.
Sick with fear, I stepped tentatively toward my sister.
“A taxi driver,” Rick said grimly. “Downtown. He had a heart attack at the wheel and crashed into the sidewalk. When he hit An—”
I grabbed for my sister’s hand. It was cool, limp.
“The impact threw her against a building,” Dad finished hoarsely when Rick couldn’t continue.
I could hear Claudia’s gasp and the choked sounds of crying.
The tears welled in my eyes as I stroked my sister’s hand and leaned over to whisper, “I’m sorry.”
“The doctors said we can only wait for her to come out of the coma but there’s a chance…” My mom’s tear-soaked words trailed off.
“There’s a chance she won’t wake up,” Dad bit out.