“You built a rocking chair because you thought I’d like it?” She turns, eyes wide.
“Yeah, well.” I huff a laugh, rubbing the back of my neck.
Her gaze drops back to the chair, then to the workbench.
“What’s this?” she murmurs, picking up the carved wooden flower. Then the tiny slab of wood I etched into a Halloween snapshot—her mask, the bunny ears, and me towering over her with the Ghostface mask.
“You made all of this for me?” Her hands are shaking now.
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “Is it weird?”
She turns to face me again, and her eyes are glazed with unshed tears.
Melody walks back over to the chair and sits in it slowly, her dress tightening across her thighs, curls spilling around her shoulders. She rocks once, twice. Finally seeing her in it is something surreal. I’ve been carving it out for her, trying to picture her in it—reading, drinking coffee, bounding on top of me—but seeing her, in the flesh, sitting in the chair I made for her… it almost feels unreal.
“It’s perfect,” she whispers. “It’s the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I swallow hard, my throat tightening.
“Everything I’ve carved in the past few months is for you.”
“I didn’t know,” she whispers, looking up at me.
“No one does,” I say. “No one’s ever been in here.”
“Not even Dom?” She stands up, the chair rocking behind her.
“Especially not Dom.” I chuckle and step closer. “I’d finish practice, come home, grab a drink, and come in here.”
“And I thought I was the one obsessing,” she breathes out a laugh, but a single tear rolls down her cheek.
And then she launches herself into me, arms wrapping around my neck.
“Thank you so much,” she mumbles against me as I lean down to make it easier for her. “You don’t have a clue how much this means,” she adds, squeezing me tighter.
“You’re very welcome, Bunny.” I smile into her hair, and she pulls back, craning her neck to look up at me.
God, she’s breathtaking. Every inch of her is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen and I can’t be without her anymore. I’m done hiding. I’m done staying away from her. I’m going to talk to Dom and tell him everything. But right now, I need her—so I slide my hand up her cheek, my thumb wiping a tear as my fingers wrap around the back of her neck. And I pull.
We collide like magnets, her mouth crashing into mine, fingers in my hair. My other hand is already sliding up the back of her thigh. She moans into my mouth, tasting like the only thing I’ve ever needed.
I grip her ass and lift her, spinning her until she’s perched on the edge of my workbench. That little black dress hikes halfway up her hips.
“Jace,” she gasps into my mouth when my hands part her knees.
“Fuck,” I growl against her lips. “I’ve missed you so much.”
“Then touch me,” she pants, arching her back and pushing her hips forward into my hand.
Her panties are wet, already clinging to her. I slide my hand beneath the fabric and feel it.
She’s more than ready. Because I’ve been watching her. Because we’ve been eye-fucking each other all night. The foreplay began the moment she stepped into my house a few hours ago. And now, I’m ready to collect.
Two fingers slide into her with no resistance, and her body jerks.
“Were you walking around wet all evening because of me?”
“Yes,” she whimpers with a nod.
