Chosen - Christine Pope (mobile ebook reader .TXT) 📗
- Author: Christine Pope
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Was I ready for that? Yes, I’d been dutifully taking my pill every night, knew I’d be protected in that way, if nothing else. Maybe I should’ve been worrying whether Jace had packed some condoms as part of his “surviving the apocalypse” kit, but for some reason, I didn’t think that was necessary. He certainly didn’t give off the man-whore vibe. It should be fine.
“Dollar for your thoughts,” Jace said, and I startled, knowing I could never tell him I’d been pondering contraceptive options. By then we were winding down, only a few bites left on our plates.
“A whole dollar?” I teased, glad that we were eating by candlelight. With any luck, he wouldn’t have noticed the way the hot blood rose to my cheeks.
“Well, a penny’s probably worth more than a dollar now, since at least you could melt a penny down and get the copper out of it.” He set down his fork and leaned forward slightly, a smile touching those full lips, the ones that had felt so delicious when pressed against mine. “But your choice.”
“I — I wasn’t thinking about anything in particular,” I said.
An eyebrow went up.
“Seriously.” I lifted my glass of wine and took a quick swallow.
The other eyebrow went up.
Oh, boy. I could stall and I could hedge, but it was pretty obvious that Jace would see through any of those machinations. “Okay, fine,” I told him, setting my wine glass back down and taking a breath. “If you have to know, I was thinking about whether you’d packed any condoms when you bailed out of Taos.”
He let out a breath, both eyebrows still raised. “You don’t beat around the bush, do you?”
“Well, you asked.”
For a second or two, he didn’t say anything, only looked at me. I tried not to blink or glance away, but damn, that was hard. My cheeks felt like they were on fire.
At last he said, “No, I didn’t. Sorry…I guess I was thinking more about the world ending or something than whether I was going to get laid in the near future.”
I winced, and he shook his head as if exasperated with himself.
“Jessica, I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant.” His hands flattened on the tabletop, as if by exerting pressure against the cool copper surface, he could take back what he’d just said. “That is, if we — if we were together, I think you know it would be a lot more than just getting laid.”
My heart seemed to start beating again. “It would?”
“You know it would,” he said, his tone quiet, but no less intense for all that.
I smiled at him. “It’s fine. I’m on the pill.”
After that…well, I’m still not sure who moved first, but almost in a single motion, we were on our feet, pushing our chairs away from the table, Jace reaching out to take me by the hand. He pulled me into him, kissing me, his mouth sweet with wine. I felt as if I could never get enough of tasting him.
But he broke the kiss after a few seconds, leading me down the hallway to my bedroom. He’d never been in here before, of course, although I left it unlocked most of the time, except for the occasions when I was getting dressed. Since Dutchie liked to wander between our rooms at night, I didn’t have the heart to shut the door. Because of that, though, I always kept it tidy. I knew I didn’t have to worry about Jace tripping over a discarded bra or something when we entered.
It was cold, though, away from the fireplace in the family room, which did a pretty good job of heating the dining room as well, since they were right next to each other. Jace let go of my hand — with some reluctance, it seemed — and asked, “Okay if I get a fire going?”
“You already have,” I said, smiling, but I nodded. “We could use one. It’s probably going to get below freezing tonight.”
He went to the fireplace and began expertly stacking some logs within it. We were burning a lot already, but I wasn’t too worried. The house had an enormous log room built on the north side, with wood stacked almost to the rafters on every wall. Jace had taken one look at the stockpile and said we could have fires in every room through July if necessary.
So I allowed myself to enjoy the warmth that began to spread through the room after he got the fire going, and not fret over whether we were going to run out of wood halfway through the winter. And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t also enjoy watching the way Jace’s jeans hugged his backside as he bent over, coaxing the fire to life.
Afterward, he turned around, then came over to me where I sat on the foot of the bed. “Better?”
“Yes,” I replied. “Although it’ll probably still be smart to get under those covers quickly.”
“I can help with that.” His fingers tugged my shirt loose from the waistband of my jeans, then undid my belt buckle. At the same time, I was working at his belt as well before undoing the buttons on his faded Levi’s. I hooked my thumbs through the belt loops of his pants, easing them down. I could tell he was already aroused, the bulge in the dark gray boxer-briefs he wore evidence that stopping to get the fire going hadn’t put him too much off his stride, so to speak.
He stepped out of the jeans but didn’t let that distract him from pulling my T-shirt up and over my head. After dropping it on top of his jeans, he reached down and undid the front clasp of my bra, releasing a long, drawn-out breath as his hands closed over my bare breasts.
I gasped, closing my eyes as he caressed me, fingers sliding over my skin. Then he was tugging at my jeans, getting them out of the way, and I stepped out of them, letting him lead me over to the bed. With one hand, he yanked back the covers, and I collapsed onto the mattress, bringing him with me, bare skin to bare skin, our mouths finding one another in the fire-lit darkness. The sheets were icy cold, but I hardly noticed.
Because oh, God, he was reaching between my legs, stroking me as his mouth closed on my nipple. My heart was pounding, my breath coming in great, heaving gasps. I had done all these things before, but never with Jace. And it had never felt like this with anyone else.
My own hand moved lower, touching him, wrapping around him, feeling the heat and the strength of his arousal. He moaned as I touched him, the sound seeming to reverberate through every inch of my body. Or maybe it was just the approaching wave of the orgasm that I could feel bearing down on me, building up until I couldn’t do anything except allow Jace to touch me, to flick his tongue against the bud of my breast, and then it tore through me like a swollen river breaking down a dam, my voice calling his name, my body heaving against his.
Yes, it had been a while, but it was more than that. It was Jace, all of it — the way he’d made me come, the way I felt as if I had been some strange half-alive being before this, hiding in the darkness until he brought me into the light.
Then he was shifting, moving, and I could feel him pushing against me, against my entrance. I’d never wanted anything more than I wanted him inside me, filling me. “Please, Jace,” I breathed.
That was all he needed. In that instant, he was there, in me, moving deeper and deeper as I rocked my hips against his, drawing him into me, our bodies locked together, finding the rhythm, the perfect push and pull of man and woman, Jace and me. I clung to him, one hand moving up to clutch his neck, feeling the leather cord that held his hair back. One tug, and it was loose, his raven hair spilling over his shoulders, brushing against my cheek, and that was it, the last push I needed. Crying out, calling his name, gasping, my body convulsing against his, and then I could feel him let loose, heard him groan, his hips driving him into me, my legs wrapped around him, until finally he stilled, went quiet, his mouth by my ear, my name a soft breath in the silent room.
“Jessica….”
We lay there for uncounted moments, flesh to flesh, drinking in each other’s warmth. Finally, he shifted, pulling away from me, but only so he could lie on his side, his chest touching my arm, as if he didn’t want any real distance to come between us. I understood the feeling all too well. In a moment, I’d have to force myself out of bed and go to the bathroom, get myself cleaned up, but right then I only wanted to be next to him, to breathe him in, to reassure myself that he truly was real, that this actually had happened.
He reached out and pushed a strand of hair away from my face. Such a tender gesture, so different from the wild abandon of a few minutes earlier. Because the room was so dimly lit, I couldn’t precisely decipher his expression. But I definitely wasn’t expecting what came next.
“I love you, Jessica.”
Out of nowhere. Or not nowhere, not really. I could have seen those words in the way he looked at me when he thought I wouldn’t notice, in how careful he was to listen to my suggestions…in the very reticence that had kept him from making a move until he was certain it wouldn’t be rebuffed.
And because he’d been brave enough to say it first, I didn’t hesitate. Not now. I’d been denying this to myself, coming up with reasons why it couldn’t be true, but there was no point in denying it any longer.
“I love
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