The Park at Sunrise Read Online Free PDF Page B

not realized what was going on between us. He'd always made a lousy chess opponent for this very reason. He had a plan and he was sticking to it, even though I wasn't moving my playing pieces according to his plan.
    I directed my gaze down and noted that he was indeed correct. I was getting paint all over everything. My boots, jeans, and jacket were already spattered. What the hell? So I tugged off the boots and tossed them to the side, sensing Jason's bewildered gaze on me the whole while.
    "What the fuck do you think you're doing, Morgan?"
    I ignored him. Jerked off the hat, gloves, and scarf and sent them flying after the boots.
    "Morgan? You're not staying here. Don't you have a fucking plane to catch this afternoon?"
    Ignoring Jason, who clearly wasn't ready to hear I wasn't leaving, I unzipped my jacket and tossed it over to land in the vicinity of the clothing I'd already shed.
    "Morgan! What the fuck are you doing?"
    I paused momentarily in pulling Jason's T-shirt over my head. Did I really need to answer that? Nah. I threw the shirt and popped the top button on my jeans as I met Jason's eyes. The conflict he endured was there. I decided it was time for endgame, hooked a foot around his ankle, and brought him crashing down on top of me. I rolled us both till I had Jason situated where I wanted him, on his back gazing up at me.
    I traced the tear tracks from his eyes down to his jawline with a finger, cupped his jaw in my hand, and retraced the path back up to his eyes with my lips. His breath hitched as I glided on to the other eye, tracing the same path back down.
    "You know," I whispered against his mouth, which opened automatically, as though to breathe in my words, "I totally suck at talking. You and Paul"— I felt his wince and a brief struggle that I stilled with ease— "you were always so much more open, more able to express yourself. If I can't quantify it, or express it with an equation, I'm lost. Without you two, I was lost. I needed you, but I was afraid you didn't need me. I couldn't balance the equation, so I avoided it."
    Jason's sigh told me he recognized the truth that I was afraid I hadn't expressed well enough. Taking that sigh as consent, as reciprocation, I played along the curve of his reluctant smile with my lips, refusing to allow him to return the pressure, rearing back when he attempted to deepen the kiss, then traced his lips with the tip of my tongue, encouraging him to open wider and let me in. I found the velvety inside of his lips and traced them with slow intent, ran my tongue along and over the slick surfaces of his teeth, reveling in the restless movements of his body beneath mine even as I stilled them with the weight of my own. My tongue glided along his, searching for half-remembered pleasures, creating new ones with every passing second. I wanted nothing from Jason in this kiss but his acceptance of what I wanted to give him, the whole of the man I had become.
    Unlike the wild kisses we'd shared the day before, which had apparently not been a clear enough indication of my emotions, I controlled this kiss. I wanted its message to be unmistakable, a promise, a vow, a new beginning.
    "No, I don't have a fucking plane to catch," I whispered into his mouth before recapturing it in a kiss of deep intent. I pushed his hands away and worked at getting his clothes off. He refused to allow me to just toss them aside as I had my own, draping them carefully on an easel that lay on its side nearby.
    It encouraged me that he gave in so quickly. And I set myself to proving that there was more going on yesterday than a good-bye fuck. I kissed my way down his chin, licking and nibbling my way to his collarbone, where I sucked a deep bruise. I probably should have asked, but his thrashing and moaning, hands holding my head in place as my teeth raked over the mark, were a good enough indication that he didn't mind being marked by me.
    Swiping my tongue one last time over the mark, I inched on down