Eyes Turned Skyward

We were on the trail before I could say good-bye to anyone. He hugged the curves but kept our speed moderate, safe. His muscles were tense under my hands, and his head would shake from side to side every minute or so, like he was arguing with himself.

He made an abrupt turn to the right, taking a lesser-worn trail to where it looked like a dead end. Then he pushed farther into the woods, stopping only when there wasn’t a sound besides us. We sat there in silence for a moment, his chest heaving beneath my hands.

I unbuckled my helmet and placed it on the rack behind me as I slid off the seat. The fallen leaves beneath my feet didn’t crunch. Southern humidity didn’t really allow anything to crunch, but at least it would have been some kind of noise. “Go ahead.”

He unsnapped his helmet and pulled it off violently. “Why?”

“Because you’re fixing to blow up anyway.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

His gaze remained unfixed ahead of him, his hands pushing in on the sides of his helmet like he could burst it in his lap. “That. Was. Stupid.” He ground out each word like it had been torn from his throat.

“I know.” I settled in for the lecture.

He swiveled his head, finally looking at me. “Do you?” he asked in a whisper. “Do you know how easily you could have been…” He blanched. “God, Paisley!”

My feet moved before I could stop myself, and I reached for him, cupping his face with my hands. “I’m okay,” I whispered. “I’m fit as a fiddle.” My smile was forced but there.

“Fucking luck, that’s all that was.” He shook his head. “You don’t get it. That moment I saw you fall, when you hit the ground? Everything in me just stopped, like my heart couldn’t beat if yours didn’t.”

I sucked in a breath, tears stinging my eyes. “Don’t say that.”

“I’ve been on my own for six years, Paisley. I’ve walked away from everyone I’ve ever cared about, basically killed off my own heart, and still none of that prepared me for the instant I thought I lost you. Nothing in my life prepared me for how much I would love you.”

The words hung between us, sweetening the taste of the air on my tongue, calming the beat of my heart, and igniting a deeper fire than I ever thought possible. “You love me?”

“You can’t do something like that again—”

“You love me.” A myriad of emotions crashed through me with the subtlety of a tornado. Elation. Fear. Hope. Devastation. Everything I wanted and everything I was terrified to lose sat in front of me.

“—because I can’t take it, and if that makes me a—”

I stopped his words with my mouth, kissing every feeling into him that I couldn’t say. His lips were warm, soft, and open. I took advantage, running my tongue along his teeth, darting in to slide along the stud in his tongue.

His shock became a groan. His hands went to my bottom, easily lifting me so that I straddled his lap, facing him on the quad. I arched into him, my breasts pressing against his chest, and my fingers threaded through his hair.

He tilted my head to the side and took control, devouring me one kiss, one nibble at a time, driving me slowly crazy. He gave just enough to keep a steady hum of energy coursing through me, the tingles in my lips turning to a steady pulse between my thighs. I’d push for more, and he’d pull away, maddening me. Finally, he drew my lower lip out with a soft bite. A noise escaped me that sounded suspiciously like a whimper.

His eyes darkened, and all playfulness evaporated as he took my mouth again, this time holding nothing back. His lips slanted over mine, kissing me deep, thrusting his tongue in a hypnotizing rhythm, and I lost myself in the sensations I only felt with him. His hands moved up my sides, pausing questioningly over my breasts. I pushed them into his waiting hands, and we both moaned.

“Skin. I need you to touch me,” I murmured against his lips.

His mouth never left mine as the zipper slid down, revealing my fitted V-neck underneath. The first press of his hands wasn’t enough for either of us. The cool air hit my stomach as he lifted my shirt over my breasts, leaving my jacket on for the chill. Thank heavens for front-clasp bras—one snap and he was finally holding bare skin. Between the temperature and his hands, my nipples hardened. His fingers ghosted across them, inflaming the little nerve endings, and I gasped.

“Perfect.” He rolled my nipples between his thumb and forefinger.

“Jagger,” I shamelessly begged.

“What do you want?”

The hunger I saw in his eyes sent a delicious shiver down my skin. I’d awoken something in him I hadn’t seen yet, and I wanted it.

“Paisley, what do you want?” His gaze dropped to my breasts in his hands, and I didn’t miss his indrawn breath, or his erection growing where my thighs rested just over his.

“Your mouth,” I answered, refusing to be embarrassed. The heat that stung my cheeks told me I might have not been successful.

He groaned, like my words had stroked him. A second later, he cupped my butt, lifting me for access. At the first touch of his lips to my skin, I trembled. He dusted kisses at the tops of my breasts, the sides, and underneath, leaving no inch of skin untouched. I slipped my hands under his jacket, indulging in the play of his muscles under his shirt as I braced myself on his shoulders. “Jagger.” His name was a whispered plea.

Finally, he sucked one of my nipples into his mouth, his moan sending vibrations through me like lightning. He alternated deep pulls and gentle laves of his tongue, savoring one breast, then the other. I cried out when he gently used his teeth, and his grip tightened, holding me up when my arms buckled from the unexpected pleasure.