Page 127 of The Wrong Heart

My hips thrust harder to override the sentimental waves coursing through me. “I love the way you feel around my cock.”

That was absolutely not what I was going to say, but it works.

She melts, closing her eyes and wrapping her arms around my neck, linking her wrists at the nape. I bury my face into the curve of her shoulder and lose myself in her warmth, her softness, her irresistible delicacy, and when I come, it’s shattering.

I’m shattered.

My walls, my barriers, the remnants of my armor.

I’m hers.

As I come down from the high, I hold her, scooping her up and cradling her like a lost lover beneath the dusky moonlight.

In this moment, nothing else matters.

In this moment, everything matters.

I feeleverything.

A blessing and a curse, and inevitably, my undoing.

As our ragged breaths steady and our heartbeats settle, I pull up from her embrace to smooth back her hair and find her eyes. A lump forms in my throat when I note the vulnerability swimming in her depths of bright green.

This is new for me, but it’s new for her, too.

We are both two broken souls, fractured in opposite ways.

She loved and lost…

And I was lost before I could ever love at all.

But here we are, pulled together by forces unseen and unexplained, clutching each other underneath an August sky, soaked in sweat and heady truths.

Releasing a shuddering breath, I lean in to press a kiss against her welcoming mouth. “Thank you,” I whisper, my hands curling around her waist.

Melody flicks her nose with mine. An Eskimo kiss. “For what?”

“For not giving up on me.”

The pads of her fingertips slide down my jaw, skimming the coarse bristles, and the look in her eyes is full of affection and warmth.

It makes me feel wanted.

It makes me feel alive.

It makes me feel…petrified.

Because I know, deep down, one day… she will.

—THIRTY—

It’s my birthday.

I’m twenty-nine years old today, and I almost didn’t make it to this day. The thought alone is an extra reason to celebrate. Tendrils of morning sunlight permeate the glass, a golden reminder of everything I’m fortunate enough to wake up to today, and every day. Even the birds in flight outside the window seize my attention, causing my heart to flutter in time with their vibrant wings. Little starting points.

Bringing the triple-shot iced coffee to my lips, my cell phone vibrates on the café table while Leah sits across from me, scarfing down a breakfast sandwich.

Parker.

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