Page 58

I lose myself in the rhythm, in the heat and the pulse and the need. My hand finds hers and pins it to the mattress. Her other hand stays tangled in my hair.

She’s close. I feel it in the way her body tightens.

“Let go for me,” I whisper. “I’ve got you.”

She breaks a second later, her whole body tensing beneath mine, her voice catching in my mouth as I kiss her through it. She rides the wave until her muscles go slack beneath me, but I don’t stop. I hold her hips steady and chase the edge until it slams into me. I spill into her with a groan I can’t hold back.

I stay inside her, kiss her shoulder, her neck, her beautiful mouth. Her eyes are closed, but she’s still with me.

And I swear to God I’m never letting her go.

Chapter 17

Ani

It’s morning and I reach across the bed, expecting to find Finn, but there’s only the indentation where he used to be and the warmth fading fast from the sheets.

I sit up slowly. My body aches, but it’s not the kind that asks for painkillers or more sleep. It’s the kind that reminds me I was fucked oh-so good. I never thought I would be having thoughts like these. That just wasn’t how my life was going to go.

Still, a little bit of guilt lingers. I was raised to believe this was wrong—sex before marriage, wanting it, enjoying it. And I’m not just enjoying it with one man, but two. While still lusting after yet another man.

I think about Boone and the way my pulse jumps when I hear his deep voice. He’s all hard edges, but I can’t stop wanting him.

I remind myself it's okay to want this.

To want them.

Towant.

I breathe in slowly and let the delicious ache settle in my body. The sheets fall around my waist as I shift slightly.

I slip from the bed and find my clothes in a small pile near the dresser. My hands tremble just a little as I button my jeans.

When I open the door, the scent of bacon greets me. I follow the smell to the kitchen.

Finn is barefoot, shirtless, wearing only a pair of soft gray sweats that hang low on his hips. He’s standing at the stove with a pan in one hand and a dish towel thrown over his shoulder. When he hears my footsteps, he glances back.

“You’re up.” He offers a sweet smile.

“Good morning. Where are Jonah and Boone?”

His smile thins, but he doesn’t falter. “Gone when I got up. Left early.”

“Did they say where they were going?”

He hesitates just long enough for me to notice. “Handling things.”

I don’t ask what things. I already know, and my stomach clenches at the thought. I didn’t think they’d leave so quickly.

I cross the room and lower myself into the same chair I’ve used every morning since I got here. My eyes are on the window, but I can’t describe a single thing I’m seeing. The sun cuts through the glass at an angle that makes it hard to focus.

I blink and try again.

I press my palms down on the table, trying to anchor myself.

I count the inhale.

One, two, three, four?—