But I don’t hesitate.
My feet move before my thoughts can catch up, closing the space between us in long, determined strides. Every step carries one clear intention.
If tonight is what she needs, then I’ll give her exactly what she’s asking for.
CHAPTER 33
johnnie
NOW
My wordsclearly hit him where I intended. I know this probably isn’t where my mind should be, yet here we are. I’m quite literally fed up with this day, these past few weeks. The only thing that has brought me any sense of joy since Nan died is the man scooping me up from the tub.
His warm, broad, and solid arms wrap around my torso, hoisting me against him. Large, sturdy hands grasp beneath my thighs as my breasts press against the hard plane of his expansive chest.
Water drips from my body onto the tile floor like raindrops in a storm, quickly soaking into Collins’ clothes. He strides across the bathroom, and just as we cross into the bedroom I lean down and claim his mouth, where he doesn’t hesitate to thrust his tongue in my mouth, hungry for connection. Starving for me as much as I am him.
The bedroom light is off, leaving us in nothing but the glow spilling from the bathroom. His knees hit the bed and all the eagerness dissipates, turning to a calm tenderness, lowering me down to the mattress. I sit here, completely bare and still slicked with remnants of the bath. My toes rest on the floor, legs spread from being wrapped around him. Collins stands there, staring down at me with fire in his eyes. The spark is visible, even in the darkness. Breathing in deep and quite audibly through his nose, he reaches behind him, pulling the collar of his shirt up and over his head in one swift move.
This man is beautiful, always has been. But time has been so kind to him. Everywhere Collins was the boy I fell in love with, has been replaced with nothing but man. The dips of his traps catch the dim light, shoulders rising and falling with the deep breaths he draws. Apparently, manual labor does wonders for a man’s physique, because his chest and abdomen are just as chiseled as any gym devotee I’ve ever laid eyes on.
“You want one night, we’re gonna make it worth remembering. Got it?”
My hands rest flat behind me, slightly as a lean back a little, taking in the sight of him.
“This playing field is a little uneven, don’t you think?” My eyes travel to his jeans.
“You want me naked, Johnnie?” I can’t help but grin a little at his confidence and nod, heat simmering through me more than it has in years, maybe ever.
His hands move to the button of his jeans, popping it open before he slides the zipper down. I catch the hint of a smirk tugging at his mouth as he toes off his boots and lets his pants drop heavily to the floor before stepping free of them. That leaves him in nothing but a pair of tight dark boxers and socks.
“Lie down and scoot back.”
I do exactly as I’m told, without a second of hesitation. Using the heels of my feet, I push myself farther up onto the bed as Collins lifts one knee to the mattress, settling it between my legs. He leans slightly over me, reaching back to make quick work of tugging off his socks. With a dramatic flick of his wrist, he tosses them across the room, eliciting a soft giggle from my lips.
The heaviness I’ve been feeling evaporates just enough to know I can have this moment, even if all the grief returns after.
Collins places a hand on each of my legs, his palms warm against my skin. When his hands reach my knees, he presses gently upward, guiding them higher until my feet rest flat against the comforter. His gaze drifts to the bare space between my thighs. A rush of vulnerability moves through me, but not a single part of me feels uneasy beneath it. Instead, there’s only a quiet trust settling deep in my chest.
“Spread your legs, John.”
I slowly run my hands from my hips, up my thighs, stopping at my knees, and open for him.
“Fuuuck,”he moans.
Pushing up from the bed, he straightens to his full height and hooks both thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. With a slow, deliberate motion, he slides them down his hips and steps out, letting the fabric fall carelessly to the floor.
Seeing him spring free is nearly my undoing. My breath catches, mouth going dry as I drink in every inch of him.
“I want to see you touch yourself. Can you do that for me, babe?”
When we were younger he didn’t talk like this—with so much self-assurance.
I try, and nearly fail, not letting my mind wonder about the experience he’s clearly gained since we slept together.
He wasn’t kidding when he said this was going to be memorable. Because we just got started and it’s already the best night of my life.
I bring a middle finger to myself, running it up then slowly down the slit he can’t take his eyes off. His length bobs in the space between us, and he grips himself, squeezing, then giving a few slow strokes, eyeing my movements with hooded eyes.