Page 102 of The Love Bandits

“I don’t want to leave you,” I admit as I pull out and then stroke back in hard, her shoes digging into my back.

“So don’t,” she says, as if it’s the simplest thing in the world and I’m an idiot for not having considered it. Maybe I am. I would be, if I gave away the best gift I’ve ever been given. Because something tells me that my only chance of making something of myself lies with this woman.

I lower my head, still moving inside her, and kiss the tops of her tits, her neck, her jaw, her lips—every bit of her that I can reach, while I claim what I’d like to be mine. Her body strains against me, meeting every thrust, one of her hands lowering tomy ass so she can push me in deeper, the other one burying in my hair. Every bit of me is hers. She owns it if she wants it; and if she doesn’t, it’s her right to throw it away.

“Jake,” she says on a gasp, “Jake, I’m coming.”

Music to my ears. I feel her grip around me, and I fall over the edge with her, my lips on hers, my dick buried so deep that I see stars.

This, I think, is true happiness.

Love, a voice in my head whispers, and I can’t find it in myself to call it an idiot.

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

LAINEY

I’ve never felt like this before.

That truth has been dancing around the edges of my brain all week, but now, with Jake buried inside of me in the closet of a home we’ve broken into…

I can’t deny it anymore

He said he doesn’t want to leave me, and I want to believe him. I want to believe that we can build something beautiful together.

I want to believe it so badly, the tears I’ve tried holding back threaten to track down my cheeks. Because I have something I don’t want to lose, and I’m worried it will be taken away.

He leans his forehead down against mine and whispers my name, still inside of me. Like he really doesn’t want to leave. “You think we’re the first people to ever fuck in here?”

I shove his arm, laughing a little as he pulls out and sets me on my feet.

I feel the loss of him and of the moment.

He leans down and kisses me, then pauses and kisses me again, like he can’t help himself. “We have to get out of here,” he says. Then he nods at the open suitcase, which we left splayed on the ground. “You should take photos for your boss.”

“You think I should tell her?” I ask, surprised.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble because of me.” He pauses, tucking himself away and zipping up his pants. “And Anthony’s a good guy, mostly. He deserves a head’s up…especially because of blond dick.”

“You don’t think Nina took the necklace,” I confirm.

His lips firm, and he shakes his head. And I feel a burn of shame for having doubted for even a second that he has a brother. He wears his concern for Ryan like a cloak. “No,” he says hoarsely. “Anthony either. Maybe Emma has it. Or Mrs. Rosings. Maybe she’ll admit something’s up if she sees that photo.”

“Nicole’s coming back from Charlotte,” I say. “She can help us. She’s good at this kind of thing. Plus we still have the tea this weekend. If anyone can make them talk, it’s Joy.”

“What if none of the Rosings Smiths have it?” he says. “We’ve been assuming they do, but it could have been any of the guests at that party.”

“Then we’ll find another way,” I insist.

He smiles at me and bends to kiss my forehead. “Thank you.”

“I’m sorry I thought the worst,” I gush. “Bad habit. It’s hard for me to—”

He weaves our hands together and lifts mine to kiss the back. It feels like his lips leave a tattoo—a mark I’ll carry forever. “It’s hard for me to trust people too. It was rational of you to question me.” Then he drops my hand and pulls his phone out of his pocket. He pulls something up before handing it to me.

It’s his text conversation with ASSHOLE. I scroll through it, my mouth dropping open, because there are a few proof-of-life photos of Ryan. His hair is slightly shorter than Jake’s, but the lines of his face and the shape of his eyes are the same. His body has the same fluid grace, and even the fox on fire is in the same position on his arm.

“You look almost exactly alike,” I say.

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