“Back to work.” He swatted my ass. “What room do you want to pack next?”
“Bedroom?” We’d been in the middle of sorting through the kitchen when Jasper and I had brushed against each other.
He’d been closing a box. I’d been filling another. Our elbows had touched. That was all it had taken for the spark to ignite.
We’d flown at each other, kissing wildly. Then he’d ripped down my pants, freed himself and fucked me against the counter.
Since last night at the A-frame, we’d had sex three times. Once last night in his bed. Once this morning in the shower. And now in my kitchen—former kitchen. This desire for him was overwhelming. Startling. Every time we were together, I wanted more and more.
That was normal, right? This was just chemistry. It would fade eventually. Most newlyweds probably couldn’t keep their hands off each other too.
Granted, most newlyweds had probably intended to get married. And to stay married.
While I was lost in this sexual haze with Jasper, I’d asked my attorney to get a jumpstart on preparing our divorce papers. That way they’d be ready once we returned from this wedding at the end of June.
“So.” I put a set of measuring cups in the open box. “Do you think it’s a bad idea for us to keep having sex?”
“No.” Jasper hefted a box in his arms, the muscles of his biceps flexing as he strode from the room.
I waited, thinking he’d just set it with the other boxes in the living room and come back to expand on that answer. But then the front door opened and closed.
“Good talk.” With an eye roll, I went back to packing.
My husband, I was learning, had a proclivity for tiny sentences. The shorter the better.
I’d just finished packing the last of the kitchen boxes when he strode into the room.
“Do you want to stop having sex?” he asked.
“No.” Before Jasper, I’d had no idea sex could be like this. Addictive. Freeing. Thrilling. There were no inhibitions. We came together with fireworks. The moment he touched me, the world beyond us disappeared.
He snared my focus with that gorgeous face. With the way every muscle in his body flexed and bunched with raw, primal power as he drove inside me. Jasper delivered twice as much pleasure as he took.
Sure, maybe sex would muddle feelings. Maybe it would make it harder in the end when we parted ways. Or maybe we could just take it for what it was.
Sex. Crazy, phenomenal sex.
“I like fucking you, Eloise.”
A flush crept into my cheeks. That rugged voice, his rasp, always made my breath catch. He might not be a man of many words, but when he used them, I listened.
Jasper crossed the kitchen with that slow swagger, like a man on the prowl. Even his walk was hot. As intoxicating as his voice. He stopped, towering in front of me. It forced me to tilt my chin to keep his gaze. “I’m going to keep fucking you.”
“Right now?” I was okay with right now.
The crinkles at the sides of his eyes were the only sign of his amusement. It was like Jasper’s secret smile.
And it was all mine. For now.
“Let’s wrap up here.” He lifted his hand to my face, his fingertips skimming my cheekbone. “Head back to the cabin. Spend the rest of the day in bed.”
“Yes, please,” I breathed.
“You like that, don’t you? I talk about fucking you, and your face turns this pretty pink. Almost as pretty of a pink as your pussy.”
“Jas,” I whimpered. If my face had been pink before, now it was a flaming red.
He bent, his mouth a whisper against the shell of my ear. “You call me Jas later, okay? When I’m so deep inside you that you’ll feel me in your throat. You call me Jas. And I’ll make you come so hard you’ll scream.”
God, I loved his dirty mouth.
His fingers came to my throat. His hand was so large that he could wrap his palm all the way around my nape and his thumb could still trace the line of my windpipe. His teeth nipped at my earlobe before his lips skimmed my cheek.
Then he was gone, chuckling as he strode from the kitchen.
The air rushed from my lungs, and I gripped the counter behind me, holding tight until my head stopped spinning. Wow.
Foreplay with Jasper was an experience like no other. It had been an education.
With him, foreplay didn’t start the minute we hit the bedroom. It started first thing in the morning. A casual touch as we crossed paths. A sensual stare. A chaste kiss. Dirty words and promises of what was to come.
It had been mere minutes since he’d given me an orgasm, but I ached for another already. Waiting until the packing was finished might kill me.
I shook my head, clearing the fog. Then I swallowed hard and followed him down the hallway to the bedroom.
Jasper had already taken the suitcases out of my closet and had them strewn open on the mattress. “You start on clothes. I’ll get another box for shoes.”
“Okay.” I moved for the dresser just as he passed by.
His arm touched mine, intentionally. Tingles cascaded across my skin.
“You’re an evil man.”
He chuckled from the hallway.
I smiled, collecting my panties and bras from the top drawer, tossing them in a suitcase before moving to the second drawer.
We’d be taking most of my things to the A-frame today. The plan was to haul over everything that could fit in boxes. The furniture, we’d deal with later. This was our second trip so far, and we’d need at least one more.
Though if Jasper wanted to delay packing and spend the rest of the day in bed, he’d get no arguments here. I could grab the rest after work this week. And if we were in the bedroom, I could continue to avoid reality.
For just another few hours.
Then I had to face my family.
My stomach twisted. Other than my sisters, no one had called me since the coffee shop yesterday. Maybe they hadn’t told anyone. Or maybe they’d told everyone.
The fact that I hadn’t heard from anyone was both relieving and stressful. But before I made the announcement, I wanted to be able to tell everyone that Jasper and I were living together.
I was going to confess that Jasper and I had gotten married on a whim. That the past month, we’d been spending time together. Getting to know each other. And the reason we’d kept it a secret was because I’d been unsure. Hence my outburst about the annulment at the coffee shop yesterday.
Then I’d tell them the truth. We were staying married. I’d moved into the A-frame. We were giving it a shot.
No one needed to know that that “shot” had a deadline.
The idea of lying to my parents and siblings made me queasy, so I focused on packing. Packing, I could control.
We’d already finished the bathroom and office. The kitchen hadn’t had much to begin with because, unlike Knox and Lyla, I didn’t hoard gadgets and cookbooks.