The Perfect series of books has followed lovers through early dates, late nights, heartbreak and Paradise. But How did it all begin?
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Jin sat and watched your finger brand his skin with it's warm and gentle touch...
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Jin rode the euphoria of the shared laughter as he kissed you.
He was dizzy with the thought of the hundreds, thousands of details he had yet to discover about you.
He cradled you gently, lost in the taste of your mouth, the sounds of your tiny sighs.
Jin lay back into the cushions and pulled you flush against his chest, loving the way your soft body fit into his.
His hand moved and found bare flesh as your hands in his hair pulled your sweater higher.
He groaned and searched your face, seeking permission to roam further, when you both felt a vibration between you.
It took until the tone began to play for the fog to clear enough to realize it was Jin's phone.
“It's Joon,” he whispered, “he would not call unless it was important. I have to take it.” He said as he rolled to reach the phone, leaving you lying face to face on the couch.
You nodded your understanding, propping up on your elbow to watch him, his beautiful face marred by his obvious irritation.
“What’s wrong? This had better be important!” he said as he answered the phone.
From the other end you could hear something about “equipment failure" and “mixing".
You lost interest in the conversation as your eyes fell to the buttons on Jin's shirt. You idly reached the top button and slipped it loose. That looked so much more comfortable!
As you unbuttoned one more, you were intrigued by the golden skin revealed there. You skimmed your fingertips down the column of Jin's throat, then followed that trail with your lips.
You were too absorbed to hear Jin start to stumble over his sentences or to notice him subtly pressing closer to you, beginning to harden at the play of your mouth.
You bent your head to press a kiss to the fluttering pulse at the base of his throat.
That time you did hear his sharp intake of breath followed by “Joon, will you excuse me just a minute.”
You raised puzzled eyes to his and found fire there. It was not anger but passion.
He quietly called your name and gave you a hard kiss. “Are you doing this on purpose?” he asked.
At that you became aware of your body pressed into his, your knee somehow wedged between his, nestled against his groin, his shirt undone and faint marks starting to bloom his chest.
Before you could respond, he drew you into a hard kiss, pulling you tighter against him.
“Damn it, Baby!!! You are killing me!” he groaned. “Give me just a few more minutes on this call, then I am all yours. I promise.”
