I shakily pulled down his jacket, and then brought his shirt over his head. I needed him. I needed to feel his skin against my own. I wanted to be sure this was going to happen and that he wasn’t going to change his mind.

Pinning me against the wall with my legs still curled tightly around his lower body, he used a hand to throw his shirt off over his head. Then he grabbed my own and pulled it off, dropping it to the floor where a pile of our clothes was slowly beginning to form.

He looked down my plain white bra, and I half kicked myself for not having packed anything sexier, but it wasn’t like I expected any of this to happen… ever.

“I can’t get over how full you are,” he muttered, trailing kisses down to my breasts and gripping my hips tightly. “You’re so womanly now. So fucking sexy.” He pulled down the cups of my bra until my breasts were exposed and gently tugged at the peak of each breast. I gasped at the bolts of pleasure shooting down to my core. I twisted his short hair between my fingers as he continued to worship me like this. He remembered just what I liked, the small things that brought me to the edge of bliss, but pulled back before I could lose myself completely.

He set my feet back on the floor and unbuttoned my jeans, sliding them down along with my underwear until they were off. I watched him, barely feeling the cold air because I was over heated by the mere presence of him. Everywhere he touched left me in goosebumps, quivering at the familiarity. It was like a hard core addiction I couldn’t get enough of. Why did I walk away from this? I asked myself while I watched him press kisses up my legs.

Finally standing, he hastily threw off his jeans, eyeing me up and down, trailing his tongue over his bottom lip. I self-consciously put an arm over my breasts, and was about to put my other hand over my sex, but he grabbed it before I could and shook his head.

“Don’t,” he said. “I want to see you.”

I went crimson while he devoured me with his eyes, and it felt too much like the first time I’d given myself to him, which was bizarre because we’d already popped the five year cherry two nights ago. This was different somehow; we were taking our time and it was personal.

I relaxed myself and took in the raw masculinity that was Jaxon Barlow. So gloriously cut, depicting every muscle he must have busted his ass off to achieve: sculpted deltoids, bulging biceps, hard six pack of abs, narrow waist, the V of his obliques, and firm, rock solid quads. While I may have grown fuller thanks to late nights snacking in front of movie marathons, Jaxon had become a machine through vigorous workouts.

I felt slightly intimidated by this. I wasn’t at all sculpted to perfection. I had a lousy cardio activity that consisted of running three times a week, but even I would look for excuses to get out of them.

He picked me up again and wrapped his arms tightly around me, situating me against the wall again, kissing me softly as he grinded his hard length against me. Thank God he was holding me or I wouldn’t have been able to stand on my own. I moaned in his mouth at the feel of him rubbing me gently. I was drenched by the time he slowly eased himself inside.

His lips brushed my own. We were breathing too heavily to concentrate on kissing. I opened my eyes and watched the pleasure sweep his face as he rocked in and out, slowly and surely.

“Look at me,” I whispered. I was desperate to feel the connection and have it solidified between us.

When he did, my chest bloomed at the venerating love in his eyes. I rested my forehead against his, breathing his air, sharing the pleasure that rioted between us. He eventually lowered us down onto the thick carpeted ground, with his back against the wall and me astride him.

He bunched my hair in his hand, and squeezed at my hip with the other while we moved.

“Don’t leave me,” he panted against my neck, moving faster into me.

“I won’t,” I promised, gripping him tighter as if to emphasize I meant it with every bit of me.

“You’re mine. Mine. Tell me you’re mine.” My chest ached at the desperation in his voice, seeping out of him even while he was in pleasure.

“I’m yours.” I kissed him fervently and he pushed his tongue into my mouth, seeking and taking what he could. He moved forward and rested me on my back and thrilled me to no end, prolonging the peak by teasing and nipping and roaming his hands up and down my body.

I raked my nails down his back, cupped his ass, and begged him to get me there because I couldn’t hold back any longer. This euphoria I felt – so mind blowing and sensational – left me thoroughly spent. Our skin was moist, our hair damp, our breathing hard and strenuous. He was still on top of me, still in me even long after we’d caught our breaths. He pulled his face away from my neck where he’d rested it and looked down at me.

“Tell me you’re mine again,” he demanded quietly.

“I’m yours,” I obliged, stroking his wet hair.

“Then you’re not leaving me.”

“I already told you I’m not.”

“I won’t let you.” He gulped back an emotion, and his eyes went red. “Sara, I don’t… I don’t think I’d be able to survive you leaving me again.”

“I’m yours, Jaxon. I’m not going anywhere.”

“And this Daniel guy, I know I said some bad things about him –”

“I ended it today,” I interrupted him.

His eyes brightened. “Really?”

“Yeah, it wasn’t fair to string him along when you own my heart completely.”

He kissed me urgently. “I’ll be damned if I see you with another guy again.” Then a thought swept his face and his eyebrows bunched. “How many men were there after me?”

“Does it matter?”

“No, but I want to know.”

“Just Daniel.”

He liked the sound of that, and he let out a breath that he’d held in after he’d asked. He finally eased out of me and tucked me into his side. I hardly cared we were completely nude in an empty bedroom on the floor. My old bedroom, actually, and now it sort of comforted me that it wasn’t all bad memories associated with it.

Sometime later, my phone rang and Jaxon, nearest to it, grabbed it and looked at the screen display. To my surprise, he picked up.

“Hello, Lexi,” he said, giving me a wink. “Indeed it is me, and you’re doing what you do best: intruding on my time with my woman.” He listened in for a moment and then laughed softly. “Is that right? I had no idea. Well, she vaguely may have said something along those lines, but it’s nice hearing it from another mouth.”