Page 190 of Never Let You Go

“This morning, on my way here,” I explain. I can barely find my voice, I want him to hold me so bad. “Is it true, what you said?”

“Said what?”

“That you wanted me back.”

He pushes a stray hair behind my ear. His hand warms my neck, and goosebumps trail down my body. His gaze caresses me softly, until his eyes darken. “I never let you go, beautiful.”

My heart thumps, my legs weaken, and I lean into his touch.

His other hand softly cups my hip and trails around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “I was stupidly angry. Dealing with my own shit. Never should have let it get in the way of this,” he says, his head dipping.

Our lips clash and our mouths meld to each other, our tongues reclaiming their familiar territory without missing a beat. There’s no hesitation, no question.

We belong together.

Within seconds, I’m coiled around him, one leg wrapped against his hip, his hands kneading my ass, my hands fisting his hair.

A knock on the door startles him, and I feel him pull away. I pull him deeper into me.

I own this freaking place. There’s got to be some perks, right?

“I like the new leadership style,” Barbara says behind me.

We keep kissing.

“Whenever you’re ready, the new lawyers are here. Last item on the agenda before the weekend.”

She closes the door softly, and we continue our makeout session.

“I like your leadership style too, Pierce,” Christopher says as we come up for air.

“Yeah?” I brush his nose with mine, nibble on his lower lip, and say against his mouth, “I apprenticed with this awesome baker. Got it from him.”

fifty-seven

Christopher

There are so many cars in the driveway at the farm, I park the truck on the grass. Skye hops out on her own and runs around the back of the white house to join the pack of kids running around.

I quickly round the front of the truck to get to Alexandra’s door.

It’s a perfect day. The air is brimming with Summer fun—the smell of Justin’s smoker, the laughter of children, the chirping of crickets, the sun up high in the bright blue sky.

And my girl.

Alexandra slides down into my arms, and I keep her there, nudged between the open door and the seat of the truck, soft and pliable against me, exactly how I want her, exactly where she belongs. Her body hums under my hands, and I can’t help but run my fingers under her flowing dress, against her soft thighs, up to the thin strap of fabric she wears as an excuse for panties.

I growl in her neck, and she half giggles, half sighs in response. I fist her hair, pulling her head back so I get her lips right where I want them.

“Christopher,” she says.

“What.”

“You’re messing me up.”

I claim her mouth, and her willing tongue says a different story. Messing her up is what she wants.

“Sure hope so,” I groan when I come up for air.

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