A Lie for a Lie (All In) - Helena Hunting Page 0,40

something, and I hope you don’t take it the wrong way, okay?”

“Okay?” It’s more of a question than a statement.

“I like that you’re jealous.”

“You do? Why?” I’ve never considered jealousy a positive emotion. It indicates a level of insecurity and vulnerability.

“It means we’re on the same page, because if the tables were turned and it was you coming out of that store and me sitting here watching some guy flirt with you, I probably would’ve made a huge ass out of myself.”

“How do you mean?”

“There’s no way I could’ve played it cool. I would’ve been out of the truck making sure he knew you were mine and that he should back the fuck off.” RJ cringes. “I probably should’ve stopped while I was ahead—now I sound like a possessive douche. What I mean is, I want to be the only one you get jealous over, that’s all. Does that make sense?”

“Yes, it makes sense.”

With that, we head back to the cabin and make good use of that residual jealousy—and the condoms.

CHAPTER 11

ALL GOOD THINGS

Lainey

“Lainey, baby, wake up.”

I groan and snuggle into the pillow. “Just let me sleep for five more minutes, RJ, then you can sex me.”

He presses his lips to my cheek, and when he speaks again, his tone makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. “Baby, please. I need you to wake up. I have to go.”

I blink a couple of times and roll over. RJ is sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed. His expression is pained. “What’s going on?”

“It’s my brother. Well, it’s actually Joy. She went into labor. She’s more than a month early, and there are complications. I know we’re supposed to fly out together, but he needs me right now.”

I’m still half-asleep, so it takes me a few seconds to absorb what he’s said. “Is the baby going to be okay? Is Joy?”

“I don’t know. It’s pretty touch and go. I need to get out there so he has some support. So they all do, just in case.”

I scrub a hand over my face, trying to process it all. “Right. He definitely needs you. When will you leave?”

“I have a flight in less than two hours. I have to go now.” He keeps skimming my cheek with the back of his hand.

“Now?” I push up on my arms, the weight of his words finally settling.

“I’m sorry, Lainey. I wanted to fly back to Seattle with you.” His expression is pained. “I really don’t want to go, but I have to.”

“No, no, I get it. Your family needs you—you have to be with them.” If it were one of my brothers or sisters, I would do exactly the same thing.

“I’ll call, okay? When I get there, I’ll call and let you know I landed and how everything is going—so you don’t worry.”

“Okay. Yes. Please.”

“I’m sorry I have to leave.” He cups my face in his hands and kisses me, evidently not caring about my sleep breath.

My stomach hollows out when I realize this is goodbye. I thought we had another day—time to talk, to figure things out. I’m not going to see him again. Not anytime soon. Part of me wants to offer to come with him, but it’s just prolonging the inevitable.

A desperate, forlorn sound bubbles up as he pulls back, eyes roaming over my face. “I need you one last time.”

“Please. Yes.” I can already feel the ache in my chest, and he’s still here with me. I’m terrified of what it will be like when he’s really gone. I shove down the anxiety and focus on the moment.

He pulls my sleep shirt over my head, so it’s just a matter of unclasping his belt and unbuttoning his fly. “I’m sorry I can’t take care of you the way I want to.” His mouth covers mine again, and his kiss is full of the same desperation I feel.

I climb into his lap while he’s still fully dressed and free him from his boxer briefs.

There’s no finessing our way through this—it’s sheer desperate need driving us as I sink down and cry out from the invasion. Everything is magnified, including the sensation of having him inside me, knowing it’s the last time.

I keep our mouths fused, holding him tightly as he moves me over him, slow at first, gentle—but it doesn’t last; we grip and cling, teeth clashing, tongues warring, bodies battling as we crash into each other, taking what we both need because we’re out