I wish I could be confident enough to ask him to stay with me. I was too much of a crying mess last night to be with anyone, but I’ve put my processing on hold for tonight, and Ireallywant to stay with him. Just a little longer before we head back to L.A.
Not that I won’t want to spend time with him in L.A too, but living with Jack will make sneaking out a little more tricky.
The doors open with a “ding”, and we step out, his hand still clutching mine.
He hasn’t kissed me since he gave me his jacket. Didn’t he say he planned on kissing me and that was the whole reason why he had foregone garlic? Will the only kiss be in front of our door when he’ll say goodnight?
“Do you think we can bring Claudio and Scarlett in our suitcase when we fly back?” He asks as we stop between our two doors.
“I wish,” I sigh, turning towards him. “I guess we can come back. Just for them? And maybe I could fix your damaged relationship with skiing…”
He smirks, grabbing my chin between his fingers, leaning closer. “Are you trying to fix me?”
“You don’t need to be fixed. But maybe you could give skiing another chance.”
He brushes his nose against mine and I close my eyes, enjoying the soft touch. “As long as you’re doing it with me, I’m even willing to give the weird maple syrup pasta a chance.”
“Wow.”
“I’d probably hate it, so I hope it won’t come to that.”
I stifle a giggle just as his lips land softly on mine. My hands cup the back of his head to pull him closer, deepening our kiss. I feel his fingers slide under my jacket from the side to settle on my waist, pulling me flush against his chest.
“Do you mind coming inside for a bit? I want to show you something,” he rasps against my lips.
“Okay,” I whisper, and his hands leave my waist to search his jacket pocket, currently warming me. It takes a few seconds but he manages to find his key card without stopping our kiss—which, let’s be honest, I probably wouldn’t have let him do.
We step inside, our kiss hungrier, and I wiggle out of both his jacket and mine while he uses his own feet to take off his shoes before leaning down to grab a hold of my thigh, lifting me up and wrapping my legs around him.
And then I’m falling backward with a loud yelp.
A yelp that I’m instantly embarrassed about the second my back meets the soft duvet of his bed as he looks at me with confusion.
For a couple of seconds, we just stare at each other with wide eyes and slightly parted lips, our short breath mingling.
A loud laugh bursts out of my throat, as he stifles his in the crook of my neck, me hiding my face in my hands.
“Oh my god, I’m sorry,” I manage to say. “I thought you caught your foot or something and fell.”
“You’re not half as heavy as you think you are, sweetness.”
“With the way you took off your shoes, you could have tripped on them, I don’t know!”
“Have some faith in my carrying skills, woman.”
His lips collide with mine once again turning my laugh into a soft moan.
“I do need to show you something,” he says, trying to break up the kiss.
“Right now?” I whine, grazing his scalp with my nails. “I thought it was just a weird way of inviting me for sex.”
His hands grab my waist to pin me into the mattress as he whispers a curse against my mouth, tilting his hips forward, grinding the bulge in hisjeans against my core.
He swallows my moan and I reach for the hem of my shirt lifting it—with more difficulty than I thought—over my head. It probably is the least sexy thing he must have ever witnessed, as we’re currently a mess of limbs and there’s barely any space between us, but the look on his face at the simple sight of my bra quickly reassures me that he probably doesn’t even notice my struggles.
“Fuck, Prue,” he rasps, sitting up slightly, his eyes roaming on my collarbone, the swell of my breast, my stomach.
I try to grab the hem of his shirt, but his hands snap around my wrist, stopping me. I give him a confused look.
