Divorce With Benefits: A Second Chance At Love
Chapter 53: Finding A Room

Chapter 53: Finding A Room

As Jared looked down at her with an expression of curiosity softened by something tender, Jerica’s apprehension faded. His eyes sharpened as he took in her surroundings, like he was absorbing another part of her he hadn’t known. "This was always your room?" he asked, his voice low, a hint of reverence woven through it.

"Yes, as long as I remember," she murmured, slipping her hands behind his neck and drawing him closer. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging him gently as if he might disappear if she let go.

Their lips met in a kiss, one that poured her longing and all the nights she had imagined him like this, warm and near, as her insatiable fire finally found its spark. Her heart surged with the familiar ache she’d tried so long to ignore, the fire in her reigniting with a burning need only he could quench.

Jerica wanted to tell him about the countless childhood memories tied to this place—the times she’d danced around her room in laughter, the whispers of secrets shared, the comfort of her friends just down the hall—but words weren’t what she needed now. She’d waited too long, and she could barely believe he was here, that she could finally touch him. He was tangible and real and undeniably hers.

But as quickly as he was hers, he stepped away, leaving her confused, cold in the absence of his warmth. A pang of uncertainty tightened in her chest. "What?" she breathed, a tinge of worry in her voice.

Was he second-guessing this? Was the moment slipping away?

Jared paused, his eyes lingering on her as though contemplating. But Jerica didn’t intend to let the flame die; she couldn’t bear it. She leaned forward, cupping his face in her hands, and kissed him again, fervent and urgent, her lips a silent plea.

Jared’s hesitation dissolved as he responded, pressing her against the wall in the hallway, his kisses growing more ardent, more consuming. Her hands slid down to his shirt, slipping each button free as he shrugged it off, the soft fabric pooling on the floor.

Her hands roamed his chest, her fingertips gliding along the hard planes of his muscles, feeling the warmth radiating from his skin. She let her hands wander over his firm abdomen, feeling the ripples of muscle, each line carved as though by some hidden dedication she hadn’t known he possessed.

A rush of desire surged through her at the realization—this strength, this solidity, all of it was his. He was somehow both familiar and entirely new, and she found herself wanting to explore every part of him, to savor every inch with unhurried reverence.

She traced her fingers over the light dusting of hair on his chest, marveling at the way it felt under her fingertips. When had he grown so strong, she wondered, her heart racing as she let her touch trail down his chest, lingering on each curve and dip.

Lawyering did this to him? Why is he built like an MMA artist?

But there was no time for questions, only the rapid pulse of her heart and the fervent beat of his, in perfect synchrony with her own.

His hands settled around her waist, lifting her as if she weighed nothing. Jerica held onto him as they moved through the hallway, unable to keep her lips from exploring the strength of his shoulders, his jawline, the soft stubble that tickled her cheek as she pressed herself closer, determined to keep him in this moment.

His shirt forgotten, Jared continued kissing her, his intensity unyielding, and Jerica reciprocated, her mouth tracing his skin, her hands finding all the places she knew would leave him breathless. She felt him smile against her neck as she kissed the side of his face, her glistening lips leaving small marks along his cheeks, claiming him in subtle, undeniable ways.

Lifting her with ease, he began to carry her down the hall, his lips finding her neck, the rough texture of his stubble brushing against her skin in a way that sent shivers down her spine. Her body responded instinctively, pressing closer to him as though she could not bear even the smallest distance between them. She kissed his jaw, her lips tracing small marks that glistened as she left a path down his cheek, savoring the sensation of his warmth beneath her mouth.

Her lips still warm on his skin, she glanced to her left and caught sight of the room they’d approached, stopping him as she recognized it.

"That’s my mother’s room," she murmured, her voice thick with embarrassment as Jared’s steps faltered.

He hesitated, clearly frustrated at the unwelcome interruption but seemingly unwilling to disrespect her mother’s space. Still, the look in his eyes told her he was growing impatient, his resolve wearing thin as his fingers tightened around her waist.

He let out a groan. He didn’t care!

He carried her to the next door, not waiting for her permission. But as the door opened, Jerica gently pulled away, looking up at him with a wry smile. "That’s my father’s room," she confessed, feeling heat rise to her cheeks as Jared paused again, this time with a barely restrained chuckle.

You’ve got to be kidding me! Jared wanted to shout but he huffed, rolling his eyes as his mouth quirked into an amused smirk. He looked down the hall with a skeptical brow. Why did her parents have separate bedrooms?

Honestly, he didn’t care to know the answer.

He scooped her up once more, his patience hanging by a thread as he maneuvered them to the stairs. "Where’s the guest room?" he asked, voice touched with amused exasperation.

"Top floor," she murmured, only half-apologetic. She paused, realizing how her reluctance might be dampening his enthusiasm. "I... I could walk."

He said nothing but she knew he took her suggestion. With a grin, she leaned in and kissed him, her hand slipping to the back of his neck as she kept the fire between them alive. By the time they reached the guest room, he was breathing hard, his eyes dark with intent as he pushed the door open.

He paused, glancing at her with a raised brow, as if to confirm. "Is this room finally acceptable?"