one hand as he glided, slow and deep. He looked up from watching us touch me, and held my eyes as he made love to me. He pulled back, sliding out, but only so he could brace himself on his knees. Grabbing my hips in his big hands, he tilted them and drove back in at an angle, hitting me in a place that sent me to the stars.
“Jamie!” I cried out as he continued to move slow and easy, but each glide forcing a deeper penetration against the coiling tension inside. I trembled against him as he took pleasure in taking his time. Jamie was savoring this. Savoring us.
What made it sexier was my need to move against him and my inability to do so because he was holding my hips captive. With one more thick push in and slow drag out, I broke.
My hips stiffened for a beat and then I quivered, my inner muscles rippling in deep, tugging throbs around him.
“Jane.” His grip loosened and he fell over me, bracing his hands at either side of my head as I came around him. He thrust into the sensation, fast, hard drives, guttural sounds of pleasure falling from his lips seconds before he tensed.
Then his hips stilled.
“Jane,” he growled. I felt the pulsing waves of his release as he jerked and shuddered … and shuddered some more.
“Fuck.” Jamie breathed, falling against me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rolled onto his back so he wouldn’t crush me, his chest rising and falling in shallow pants. “What the fuck was that?”
My heart raced as I tried to calm.
Our skin was dewy, slick with sweat, as I turned my head to look at him.
I found him staring at me in awe.
I smiled.
“That happened, right?” His deep voice coiled around my heart. “That was the best sex of our lives, right? Of anyone’s life.”
Grinning, I felt giddy and scared and euphoric and worried all at once.
Jamie rolled onto his side and pulled me onto mine so he could tangle our legs together, so he could feel my breasts against his chest. “I love you.” He kissed me, intense, a little frantic. “You’re here. We’re here. And you’ll never leave me again. Promise you’ll never leave me again.”
Just like that, anger bloomed in my gut.
Quick. Fiery. And dispelling the mood like a bomb.
I wrenched away from him. “Jamie McKenna, if we’re going to make this work, you have to stop. Stop acting like I left you. You broke up with me. Remember? I still have the goddamn letter.”
Jamie’s brows furrowed. “What fucking letter?”
28
JANE
“What fucking letter, Jane?” Jamie repeated, sitting up.
My pulse raced as an ominous feeling settled over me at the sight of his genuine confusion. I pushed up to sit beside him. “The letter Lorna gave me. The letter you wrote.”
“When?” he demanded.
“A few days after I visited you. Six years ago.” I made to move out of bed, and Jamie grabbed my wrist. “I’m getting the letter.”
He released me, but his breathing was shallow, agitated.
So was mine.
I yanked his T-shirt up off the floor and pulled it on before I hurried to my closet. Hauling over my artist’s stool so I could reach the top shelf, I pushed shoeboxes aside to find the one with my keepsakes. Taking it down and over to the bed, I threw off the lid, desperate to find the letter. The box was filled with old photos of me and the McKennas, even a few with Willa, Nick, Tarin, and Flo, though I rarely ever saw them now.
Shoving aside trinkets and ticket stubs, I found the letter buried at the bottom. My hands shook as I unfolded it. Looking at Jamie, I saw him studying the paper with a wrinkle between his brow.
I held it out to him.
He took it.
I still remembered every word.
I blame you. I know it all wasn’t your fault but some of it was. I will always love you but I also think things might have been better if you’d never been a part of our lives. That way I couldn’t miss what I’d had with you and hate you for how it all turned out. You being around just complicates things. I don’t need you in my life anymore. There’s just too much bad shit between us. I don’t want to see you anymore, and I don’t want you to visit. Don’t try to call either. Just … don’t.
Jamie scanned it, his fingers biting so hard into the paper, it crumpled. His