The Perfect Letter by Chris Harrison Page B

ragged.
    â€œToo much?”
    â€œNo,” he said, slightly breathless but grinning.
    She ran another finger across his backside, enjoying the feeling of it clenching under her touch. She’d had no idea the power she could have over him, or how intoxicating that power could be—that she could tease him, seduce him, enjoy him all she wanted.
    Jake’s breath was coming in little gasps, his breastbone rising and falling quickly under her hands. She leaned forward and kissed the spot over his heart, then licked one of his nipples gently. She stood on her toes to reach his neck, then his mouth, all while Jake held himself still, willing himself not to move for fear of breaking the spell.
    With one hand she cupped his buttocks, and with the other, she reached down to feel him hard against her thigh. She took him in her hand and felt his whole body shudder. “I can’t—” he panted. “I can’t—Leigh, please, please, Leigh, it has to be now.”
    She let go of him and stepped back, undoing her shirt, her jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Then she stood before him naked herself.
    He crossed the space between them in two steps, picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist, lowering her to the floor. She was surprised at how strong he was. His lips moved to her ears, her neck. Her body was dissolving into his, the margins between them evaporating. He put his mouth on her nipples, and she panted. “Jake,” she said. “Jake, please don’t make me wait anymore.”
    His mouth on her neck, her breasts. His mouth on the deepest place inside her, his tongue, his wetness melting into her own. Her hands on the back of his hair, on the silk of his shoulders, and she pulled him up to kiss him again before bending over to slide the condom on. Then she lay back and arched her hips to let him ease into her. A quick burst of pain and then it was done, more smoothly than she had imagined. He moved over her, hips pushing into her softness, into the ache, her body so lit with desire she no longer had any sense of where she stopped and he began.
    She grabbed him and pulled him into her, deeper, nothing but his body and hers curled around the epicenter of pleasure. He lifted her hips to pull him to her, thrusting until the world went white, and her whole body shuddered. Jake cried out once, twice, and then collapsed on top of her, his weight pleasantly heavy, his neck slick with sweat.
    He stroked her hair in the moonlight, rolled off her, and lay quiet while she put her head on his shoulder. It had been surprising only in that she’d enjoyed it more than she would have thought, given what Chloe and the other girls at school always said—that it was usually fast, and painful, and awkward. But maybe it was different when you really loved someone, she thought. Maybe Jake had been right to make them both wait until they were sure what they meant to each other. But as she lay there with her head on his chest, her body still tingling with pleasure, the only thing she was sorry about was thatin the morning they’d have to go back to pretending in front of their families that nothing had happened, nothing had changed, when all she wanted was to shout from the rooftops that she loved him, that she was his now and always.
    When she thought she could speak, she looked over at him and said, “Think you could do that again?”
    He laughed. “Give me a minute,” he said. “I’m sure I could manage.”
    Afterward they were inseparable, insatiable, finding each other in the hayloft, at the lake, in the woods. They were careful, so careful not to get caught—Gene still swore to Leigh that he’d fire Ben at the first hint that Jake wasn’t keeping his hands to himself—but there was hardly ever a day they didn’t find at least five minutes to spend together, hardly ever a day when they didn’t have a chance to sneak a kiss in the