A sound escapes my throat, half surprise and half surrender, as my body melts against his. My hands find purchase on his shoulders, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath the thin T-shirt.
Jared walks me backward until my hips meet the counter edge. His height pushes my chin upward, baring my throat and sending a primitivethrill through my system. His hands settle at my waist, fingers gripping the soft flesh above my hips.
The kiss deepens, turning hungry. His teeth graze my bottom lip, and the gentle sting pulls a gasp from me that he swallows with another kiss. My fingers slide up into his hair, still damp from the shower, curling into the light brown strands to hold him to me. His purr rumbles between us, vibrating from his chest into mine, where our bodies connect.
“Emily,” he breathes, my name broken into syllables of wonder. His scent shifts, deepens, salt air becoming a storm surge that floods my senses.
His hands slide lower, curving around my hips to lift me onto the counter in one fluid motion that speaks to his strength, and the new position puts us eye to eye. My legs spread to allow him to step between them, bringing our bodies flush together.
His palms slide up my thighs, heat seeping through the denim to warm my skin beneath. “Is this okay?”
In answer, I hook my ankles behind his back, drawing him closer. The friction where our bodies meet sends electricity coursing through my veins, lighting me up from within. His pupils dilate, and he swoops forward again.
Our mouths meet again, the kiss deeper, wilder.My hands roam across the expanse of his back, feeling the shift and play of muscles as he moves against me.
His lips trail from my mouth to my jaw, then down the column of my throat where my pulse hammers. When he reaches the juncture of my neck and shoulder, where a mating mark would go, he pauses, his breath hot on my skin.
The moment stretches between us, loaded with possibilities.
“Not there,” I manage, the precaution dragged out on a shaky breath.
He swallows hard and nods, understanding this isn’t a rejection but a boundary. His mouth returns to mine, reclaiming the connection without pushing for more than I can give.
My hands slip under the hem of his shirt, seeking the warmth of bare skin. He sucks in a breath as my fingers trace the ridges of his abdomen, the dip of his spine, the curve where back meets waist. The exploration feels illicit and necessary all at once, my body demanding to know his in ways my mind still resists.
His own hands mirror mine, sliding beneath my sweater to splay across the small of my back. The heat of his palms brands me, sending shivers up my spine. When his thumbs trace circles on mybare skin, my body arches into his, seeking more contact.
Our kiss turns urgent, desperate. His teeth catch my lip again, harder this time, and the flash of pain-pleasure draws a moan from deep in my throat. The sound surprises us both, his body going rigid for a heartbeat before melting back into mine with renewed fervor.
As my lips find his throat, I taste salt on his skin, his pulse thundering beneath my tongue. His scent floods me, a tidal wave of pheromones that calls to the Alpha in me.
His fingers tangle in my hair, cradling my head as he reclaims my mouth. The gentleness in the gesture contrasts with the hunger in his kiss, showing this young Alpha’s strength and tenderness in equal measure, and it undoes me more than passion alone could have.
My legs tighten around his waist, while the edge of the counter digs into my thighs, a counterpoint of discomfort that keeps me from floating away on this tide of sensation. His hands slide down to support my weight, and the shift brings our bodies into perfect alignment, drawing gasps from us both.
The kitchen disappears around us, leaving only his mouth on mine, his hands on my skin, hisheartbeat matching the rhythm of my own. For the first time in years, I feel fully present in my body, every nerve ending alive and singing with awareness. The Alpha in me, so long suppressed, responds to his call without reservation.
The second oven timer breaks us apart again, breaths coming in ragged pants. Another twenty minutes passed in what felt like seconds. I can’t remember the last time I lost myself in another person. Not even Auren held this much sway over me.
“Time flies,” Jared murmurs, his shoulders easing into a relaxed, satisfied curve.
Unlike me, he doesn’t seem startled by the interruption, but content, as if we have all the time in the world to explore this rising hum of awareness between us.
He doesn’t step away, his body still cradled between my thighs, his hand resting on my hip. The position carries a quiet intimacy and an easy comfort, as if we’ve done this dance a hundred times before.
His thumb brushes across my cheek, tracing the flush that stains my skin. “You’re so beautiful.”
I blink, uncertainty setting in. No one has ever called me beautiful, but the way Jared stares at me in wonder leaves no room for doubt.
With a crooked grin, he murmurs, “Show me how to tell if it’s ready.”
The double meaning in his words hangs between us, a question about more than lasagna. My breasts still heave with uneven breaths, my lips swollen from his kisses, my body humming. Every inch of skin he touched tingles with awareness, craving more contact even as my mind begins to clear.
“We need to check it,” I say, my pulse racing, “to test if the center is hot, and the cheese is browned.”
His hands slip from me as he steps back, allowing me space to slide off the counter. My legs wobble beneath me, and I grab the edge for support. The distance between us now is both necessary and unbearable as cool air rushes into the space his body vacated.
As I reach for the oven mitts again, my hands shake, and Jared takes them. “Allow me.”