“Your turn,” she said, yawning.

  Jacob nodded, looking at her that way he did, so intensely his face went a little slack and she could feel his gaze moving over her body, before he smiled again and stepped into the bathroom, taking his suitcase with him.

  Jennifer grabbed hers. She did not remove any clothes. Instead she plucked Katie’s purchase from where she’d hidden it, wrapped up in one of her sleepy shirts. She put the box on the table beside the bed, pulled the covers back, and quickly slipped under them, leaving the robe on the floor. The sheets were silk, cool on her skin.

  She waited. The shower ran, then it shut off. She heard Jacob brushing his teeth, turning the sink on and off. He came out in pajama bottoms and bare feet, his hair still damp and clinging to his neck.

  “You know,” he said, “If you’re uncomfortable sharing the bed I can sleep on the couch.”

  “I’m not uncomfortable sharing the bed with you.”

  “If you say…” he trailed off.

  Jennifer was red as a beet. Her cheeks, and other places, were burning. Her heart ran circles in her chest, her belly was tight as a drum and she had to bite her lip to stop it from trembling as she tucked the covers under your chin.

  He picked up the box.

  “Um,” he said. “What are these for?”

  “Balloon animals,” Jennifer said, dryly.

  Jacob laughed. Nervously.

  “Seriously…”

  “We both know you’re not that dense.”

  He swallowed, and smirked, and he was blushing. Hard.

  God, he was enormous. His chest, his arms. She wanted to touch him. Be touched by him. This was it, she had say something sultry, something slinky, something seductive.

  “I’m naked. Get in the bed.”

  That would have to do.

  Jacob hesitated. He walked around to the other side. He lifted the blankets and sheets very carefully and slipped under them, without exposing her. Something swelled in her, a feeling so strong it made her almost tear up. Joy. He slipped into the bed and laid on his right side, facing her.

  She always took the right side of the bed. There was never any discussion. Ever since they began sharing the bed at home…

  …at home…

  …Jennifer took the right side, like now.

  Jacob’s heat warmed the bed.

  “Touch me.”

  She scooted towards the middle, the covers still tucked under her chin. She expected him to touch her leg, her chest, but he ran his fingers through her hair.

  “I love your hair.”

  A trembling smile turned into a grin. “I know. That was the first thing I noticed about you, Jacob. You couldn’t stop looking at my hair. That wasn’t what I meant by ‘touch me.’ Anywhere you want.”

  He moved closer. Her breath caught. It was the expectation, the absolutely certainty that panic would grip her at any moment and she’d scream or throw herself out of the bed, but it never came. She rolled on her side, facing him, and he put his hand on her side, just above her hip.

  The touch was halting, a first experimental contact with something precious and fragile. He didn’t pull her closer so much as rest his hand on her while she moved herself, drawn to him like a magnet. The skin of his hand was rough. Hs fingers were crooked and broken, painful to flex. As she moved nearer he shifted his other arm, sliding his hand under her. The fingers of his right hand were just as rough to the touch, but warm and careful and gentle, and he held her by the waist and drew her to him, fanning her fiery hair out behind her on creamy silk. He moved closer himself, until the sensitive tips of her breasts touched his chest. He let out a little gasp, perfectly in time with her.

  “I must be dreaming,” he said.

  “Oh please.”

  She pressed against him. The scars on his chest and belly dragged at her skin, hard and ridged, but everywhere else he was surprisingly soft and it was as much of a shock for her as for him, that she was touching him, running her hands over his body, his hard flat stomach and the muscles of his chest. She traced the scars with her fingers, reading the map of his pain as his hands moved up her back, pressing her gently against him. At least, for a moment. His hand sank lower, lower, over the small of her back, before finally settling on her backside, and his fingers squeezed.

  There was nothing of fear in the flutter in her chest, no anxiety in the tightness in her belly or the burning heat she felt all over.

  “You’re shaking. Are you okay?”

  “Yes. Kiss me.”

  He did. Not hard. Gently, like it was the first time and he wasn’t sure how it worked. His warm lips touched hers, and they savored each other before she opened her mouth, deepened it. She closed her eyes and drank in the thrill, each touch explosive. His hands swept up her sides, moved lightly over her chest, and she squeaked in surprise in his mouth, broke out laughing. When she pulled back, grinning, he dove for her neck, his warm wet lips pressing to the sensitive skin of her throat, and she moaned softly and wrapped her arms around him.

  Her hands scrubbed down his back, over the scars, old and new, and brushed the waistband of his pajama bottoms.

  Jennifer hesitated, even as she felt his teeth on her collarbone and jerked in surprise, a twisty thrill shooting up her back. Her hands sank down, over his heavily muscled backside, pushing the pajamas down. He kicked his feet together and they sank further, and she squeezed his rump and drew in a sharp breath before pulling them down past his hips.

  Out he came.

  Oh.

  Wow.

  A little flutter of fear rolled through her. Not that fear, the old bitter one. This was different. Pleasant somehow, like the fear of being caught at a dangerous game, the fear of tipping over the crest of a rollercoaster.

  “You know this is my first time, right?” she managed.

  “Yes,” he said, his breath hot on her shoulder.

  “You know what you’re doing?”

  “Yes.”

  He sank down, under the covers. Jennifer went rigid as she realized she was effectively uncovered now, exposed to him. Again it wasn’t the old fear that gripped her but excitement as he gently nudged her onto her back. He lifted up on his elbows, and she put her arms around his neck and saw the look in his eyes when his eyes roamed over her chest, when he touched her stomach, lighting running a single finger from her navel up between her breasts and back down again, before he dipped down to take her nipple in his mouth.

  Almost by instinct, her legs lifted and she wrapped them around his waist, and knotted her fingers in his hair. How could something so simple feel so good? It was like being tickled and scratching an itch at the same time, and it made her tingle all over, but most of all in her breasts, between her legs. He was never harsh, never aggressive, his every touch gentle, reverent even. He pulled the covers up himself, grinning at her before he moved lower. His mouth traced down, leaving a warm, wet trail down her belly.

  Closer, and closer. He put his hands on her hips, kissed across, not down. Along her hip, the outside of her leg. She started to wonder what he meant to do, but didn’t dare ask, much less suggest. Yet the idea entered her head and would not leave. When he moved back up her leg, around her inner thigh, quivering tickly jolts of pleasure shot through her body and she tucked the covers up under her chin in something like shame, but different. Jacob’s mouth was moving closer, and closer, and she felt heat on her sex. His breath.

  He kissed her. There.

  Her back arched and she let out the same little squeaky sound she always made when she was most surprised. It was as much a shock as a pleasure, that touch. The warm wetness she felt moving on the most sensitive folds of her body was his tongue, burning hot. Too hot. Her legs closed around him, her heels resting on his back. Her hands found his hair.

  He knew what he was doing.

  She writhed on the bed, overtaken by pleasure. He read her like a book, like he could feel her own sensations through her and amplify them, grow them, nurture them. Jennifer had never felt anything like this, not even by her own hands. She felt something, a finger, slide inside her, and gasped. It was a strange feeling, different, and grew the deeper his finger went in her body. She trembled as it moved inside, as he curled his finger and teased her within while bringing her pleasure without, until she was clutching the sheets in her fists and whimpering through clenched teeth.

  He pulled away, but not far. His finger was still inside her.

  “Are you ready?” he said. “Do you want me to keep going?”

  “Yes!”

  “Which one?”

  “I don’t care, pick one.”

  Jacob laughed at her, but she couldn’t help it, it was explosive, contagious. She burst out laughing, too, even as he drew his finger out of her and moved up the bed, stopping to lightly kiss in random places here and there, along her side, her ribs, the sensitive underside of her breasts, until he came out from under the covers and met her lips with his.

  She could have spent a long time like that, lying under him, feeling his body expand against hers as he breathed, but she could feel him down there hard and ready and she grabbed the box off the nightstand, twisting in his embrace. Fumbling with the edges, she finally tore the box open and pulled one of the condoms out. Jacob reached for it.

  “Can I put it on?”

  “You know how?”

  She gave him a flat look.

  He smirked and she couldn’t help herself, and started laughing again. He rolled onto his back and she reached under the covers as he tore it open. Her hand closed around his shaft. It was hotter than she expected, and of course, well, bigger. Too big, maybe.

  “You be on top.”

  “So I can do all the work?” said Jennifer, smirking.

  “It’ll be more comfortable that way.”

  There was no holding back now. She sat up and let the blankets fall away, exposing herself. It was more difficult now. She was exposed. Afraid, until he touched her, just rested his hand on her hip as she knelt beside him, and, well.

  She gave it a little stroke with her hand. “You want a turn?”

  “A turn?”

  She shrugged and made a little motion with her hand, towards her mouth.

  “Wait, what? No-“

  “You did it,” she protested.

  “I’d rather, yeah.”

  She did, well, she wanted to play with it. It almost felt silly. Jacob rubbed her back, ran his hand through her hair as she rolled the condom down his shaft, until it was all the way on. Then she threw her leg over him and before she could do anything else, he pulled her down to kiss her, sliding one hand between her legs while holding her back with the other. His finger moved over her folds, pressed at her entrance, teasing.

  “Listen,” he said, very softly. “If you want to stop, any time, you tell me. If something hurts, tell me. Understand?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re sure you want to do this?”

  “Yes,” she said.

  She sat up, and he steadied her with his hands on her hips as she held him in her hand and guided him between her legs. His erection was much, much bigger than his finger, and it took some pressure before her body spread open around him. She expected to make a noise but she was silent, staring into his eyes. The look on his face was priceless, etched into her mind as she relaxed her legs, breathed in and out slowly, and took him into her body. Her eyes watered a little.

  “Hey,” he said, his voice so soft she could barely hear him. “You okay?”

  She nodded, vigorously.

  Wasn’t this supposed to hurt? The first time was supposed to hurt. This was the opposite of hurt. This was good. Intense, almost unbearable, but good. She was so full. It was hard, but she settled her weight in his lap, breathed out and released some of the tension in her belly, but it came right back. She put her hands on his stomach and turned her head to throw her hair back over her shoulder.

  “Holy shit, that was sexy,” Jacob groaned.

  His hands moved up her arms. Slowly, she leaned forward. The change in the angle taught her new sensations with every tiny movement. Her weight shifted to his hands and he eased her down until she was lying on top of him, legs hitched up around his sides, her head on his chest. He shifted and moved inside her as he sat up, propped up against the headboard. With a little nudge on her hip with his hands, he set her moving. She flexed her stomach, then her back, rolling her hips. Everything was new, experimental. When she felt good, she kept doing what felt good, and it made it feel even better. It was like she was on fire.

  “I want you on top of me,” she whispered.

  Jacob locked his arms around her and, carefully, rolled without drawing out.

  It was amazing. His weight settled on top of her, pushed him in deeper. Now that that he was on top, something in him shifted a little, changed. His movements were sharper, more intense. His lips were not soft but hungry, and she felt his teeth on her throat and paid him back with her nails on his back.

  Suddenly he slowed, as if he’d only just realized what he’d done.

  “Oh God, are you-“

  “Don’t slow down,” she pleaded, “Do it like before. Harder. Come on.”

  That change came back, and she liked it. The bedsprings creaked, and the movement of his fullness inside her, the way his body ground against hers, his hot breath, it was all overwhelming. She held him tight, driven by some instinct to trap him against her, inside her as his thrusts grew frantic, matching the undulations of her body as a long, low moan escaped her lips. It was not like this before, by herself. Never like this. Not so intense, so tight, so hot, so cold at the same time. She felt it everywhere, exploding through her body in waves, and he cried out in her ear, his breath so hot as she arched back and clawed at his neck and hair.

  It faded. Her feet trembled in the air, before lowering to the bed. Her arms fell to her sides and she lay spread out under him, and he was still inside her. Jacob laid on top of her, breathing. He was too heavy, but she didn’t care. He was like a living blanket and the movement of his body as he was still inside her made him tremble. If she was exhausted he was energized, holding her around the waist, softly kissing her throat.

  Finally, he withdrew, shifting to lie on his side, still next to her.

  He put his head on her shoulder.

  “Did you like that?”

  “Uh huh,” she managed.

  She was naked, soaked in sweat, red everywhere and still trembling.

  Totally exposed. Never safer. Safe with him.

  “I love you.”

  The words hit her like a bucket of cold water.

  “You,” he said, “not the idea of you, not the image of you on a pedestal. I love your fire, your passion, your grace and kindness and compassion. You make me want to be a better person.”

  She was quiet for a time.

  “I love you, too,” she said turning to face him. She slipped her hand in his, so much bigger and rougher than her own. “You’re already a better man than you think you are.”

  His grin widened, and he kissed her. Pulled her close and held her.

  Eventually, of course, he fell asleep. She woke him up around noon, by rattling the box.

  Jacob looked at it, as if for the first time.

  “Jennifer, did you know that’s a ten pack?”

  “Yes,” said Jennifer. “Yes, I did.”

  9.

  “This going to give me an ulcer,” said Jennifer.

  Jacob dragged the zipper up her back, and gently lifted her braid over her shoulder. He cut a fine figure in his dinner jacket, with his hair slicked and tied back. He put his hands on her shoulders and rested his chin on top of her head, and she grinned at him in the mirror. Her hair was perfect, and Jacob draped the heavy necklace around her throat and clasped it behind her neck as she put in the earrings. He touched her waist.

  “You look absolutely radiant.”

  A small part of her almost wished she’d gone with the more revealing, backless gown, but she did look good. Elegant, even. Even the shoes felt less awkward, if no less pinchy. She’d have to get used to those. Jacob handed her the purse.

  “There’s nothing in here,” she said.

  “It’s an accessory,” said Jacob, shrugging. “I’m not even taking my wallet. No gadgets, no weapons. Security is going to be extreme. James won’t be the only politician there.”

  Jennifer nodded. “I’m not sure I can do this.”

  “I know, honey. I’m not, either. Just stay with me and follow my lead.”

  The one thing he did take was his phone, which he slipped in the inside pocket of his coat. Then he took another, identical phone and put it in the pocket on the other side.

  “Two phones?” said Jennifer.

  “A little trick. I saw it in a movie.”

  “Right.”

  He was staring at her. She shifted on her feet and flicked her chin, making her braid sway, and smiled. Jacob grinned at her and leaned in for a quick kiss.

  “Careful. Don’t smudge this stupid lipstick.”

  “Of course not,” Jacob purred.

  “You should have gotten me a corsage. I feel like we’re going to the prom.”

  “We’re going to have to chaperone if we get our jobs back. You ever do that?”

  She shook her head. “Not my kind of thing.”

  Jacob nodded, his expression darkening. “Maybe we can work on that. Time to go. We can only be so fashionably late.”

  Jennifer was unused to being the center of attention, so when she noticed all the stares in the lobby of the hotel, she grew a little queasy, and clutched her purse in both hands. It took all her willpower not to fold her shoulders in and tuck up against Jacob, but she walked tall and swish-swished the long gown around her legs, out to the front. There was a car waiting for them. Old, and huge, and sky blue. Jennifer looked it over and whistled softly.

  “What’s this?”

  “We’re not going to the prom. No stretch limo for us. A Rolls isn’t really my thing, but we’re just borrowing it.”