Skin: He wanted full contact by Johanna Hawke

Author:Johanna Hawke [Hawke, Johanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2018-08-29T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

Roni

I had known this was coming, but, somehow, that still hadn’t prepared me for the inevitable. I was sleeping over at Jesse Parker’s house for the first time in my life—unless sneaking out of windows in high school counted. Sure, we’d had sex, but I felt like staying over brought us to a whole new level of intimacy. If only he knew what I had in store for us. “I’m going to grab my duffle from my car,” I said to Jesse as we pulled into his oversized driveway, bits of clay still fresh on our skin from our art class fiasco.

My duffle bag I’d packed with all of the first-time sleepover essentials had a special addition for this man I’d grown to care so deeply about: brand new lingerie. I’d spotted the hot pink number on a mannequin downtown while on a jog earlier in the day, and I just knew Jesse would love it. Or at least I hoped so.

“I still can’t get over the fact that you bought the Pritchett House,” I said, half-running to catch up with Jesse on the front stoop.

Jesse smiled. “Well, you better get used to it,” he said. “Because it’s mine. And you’re about to become my most frequent visitor.” In a swift motion, he swept me off my feet and carried me into the house like we were newlyweds on our honeymoon. That was one thing I loved about Jesse. He had this sense of spontaneity and an unmatched joy for life.

“I need to take a shower.” I was certain I was blushing, but I didn’t mind. “This clay is starting to itch.”

Taking my duffle from my hand and leading me up the stairs to his bedroom, Jesse said, “Mind if I join you?”

“It would be my pleasure,” I said with a smirk.

Though I’d been in the master bathroom to join Jesse for a jacuzzi, I hadn’t stopped to really soak in his bedroom until this very moment. The walls were a wine color that somehow looked extremely elegant, maybe even a tad romantic, and there was soft detailing on two of the walls. His bed was certainly big enough for two, and I had to tell myself not to let my mind wander to the possibilities of who else had shared that bed.

Jesse’s bedroom was nothing like I would’ve pictured it, but it also seemed to match the person he had become. I was sure that if someone who didn’t know Jesse saw this muscular, hot tattoo artist walk into the antique Pritchett House and his wine-colored bedroom, they would have done a double take or laughed it off. Having gotten to know the new Jesse, however, I figured that the décor of the room fit with his more recent love of art.

“Come here,” Jesse said, pulling me gently by the arm. He stopped at a floating shelf between his nightstand and his armoire and pointed to a trophy in the middle. “Remember that?”

I leaned closer to read the words on the engraving.

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