Page 39 of Still the One

“Even if being honest means not knowing what I want?”

“I don’t think either one of us knows what we want. Maybe we just have to feel things for a while instead of trying to figure stuff out.” Jamie caresses my cheek with the back of her fingers. “You are so very special to me, Mac.” Her voice is suddenly hoarse, maybe from emotion, or maybe from something else. “I count my lucky stars that I’m standing here with you, even though you haven’t even properly invited me in.”

“Come on.” I pull her forward. I don’t take her into the living room but lead us straight into my bedroom instead.

Jamie tosses her bag onto the bed with a wicked grin on her face. “On a scale of 1 to 10, how frisky are you?”

“Twenty-five,” I say, without missing a beat.

“Most definitely a number I can work with.” She pulls me near and kisses me. There’s less urgency in this kiss, more tenderness and passion. It’s very much a kiss from someone who thinks of me as incredibly special.

“Where’s your bathroom?” Jamie asks after she’s kissed me until my knees have gone weak.

“Just through there.” My blood beats heavy in my veins as I point to the door.

“I’ll be right back.” Before she leaves, she leans into me. “Best get a bottle of lube out.”

“Um, I don’t have any,” I admit.

Jamie looks at me as though I’ve just claimed my building doesn’t have running water.

“Let’s not get into that now.” She chuckles. “Don’t worry. I came fully prepared.” With that, she disappears into the en suite.

I don’t know what to do while I wait for her. Should I get undressed? Get onto the bed at least? Am I sure I don’t have a bottle of lube lying around somewhere? And exactly how embarrassing is it that a woman on the cusp of fifty doesn’t have lube stashed next to her bed? My mind whirls itself into a tailspin and I end up hovering, doing nothing, breathlessly waiting for Jamie to emerge.

When she does, I sink onto the edge of the bed from sheer lustful emotion. My eyes go wide at the sight of her. In that moment, I realize that she has given me so much already since we’ve seen each other again. And now, she’s giving me this as well. I hold out my hand to her.

While she undresses me, I’m fully aware of The Thing between her legs. It changes the vibe in this room. It changes how I see her and what I want from her. But again, I can’t look beyond this evening. Maybe that’s the point. Maybe we just take it day by day—climax by climax—and wait for what tomorrow brings. Tomorrow’s the last thing on my mind right now, as I pull Jamie onto the bed with me.

The temperature heats up quickly. The Thing presses against my thigh as Jamie kisses me, as her hand cups my breast, her fingers playing with my nipple. It’s a complete mystery how she can still have this effect on me. But she was always the best I ever had. The biggest difference is that back in the day, when we made love, I trusted her with my life. Now, I don’t trust her as far as I can throw her, but, apparently, it doesn’t make a difference to me when we’re doing this. It does so all the more outside of the bedroom. I will never trust Jamie again because she has proven herself to be forever untrustworthy. For that reason, we might not ever become friends again, but my body very much prefers to ignore that fact. It reacts to her on a different, far more basic level.

My body can’t get enough of her and it’s no wonder. It’s as though Jamie remembers everything I like. Everything I want. It’s why she suggested she bring the toy that juts out between her legs. And if I’m being completely honest, there are hints, in between deep kisses and delightful sighs, that I could possibly trust her again. That I could love her again. That I could let her back in. But then I remember all the reasons why that’s not possible and I have to face reality. She can fool me once, but I will never let her do that to me again. I will never give her that opportunity again. I have a black belt in self-protection for that very reason.

Jamie doesn’t ask me with words if I’m ready. She just looks at me, scans my face—she reads me. Maybe, with her, and only in these circumstances, I can be the carefree person I was before she irreparably hurt me. Maybe that’s what this is.

“Oh, Mac,” she says, her voice cracking a little. “You’re so… deliciously you.” She swallows something out of her throat. I’ve been too busy dissecting my own emotions to take hers into account—I do know that. What this must do to her. To come here. To walk to my building with The Thing in her bag.

Jamie’s vulnerable and incredibly strong at the same time. It’s an intoxicating combination. Every cell in my body pulses, is hungry for her. And maybe I do love her a little in this moment. Maybe I never stopped. Maybe we just pressed the pause button—but twenty years is a long time to pause a feeling.

She kisses me again, long and deep, as her hand travels between my legs. She slips her fingers gently inside me and I can’t wait for what’s to come.

Next thing I know, she maneuvers off me and then squirts lube into her hand. My breath stalls in my throat as I watch her, as I try to process how utterly gorgeous and sexy she is. I don’t know if it’s sad or beautiful that no one else has ever made me feel how Jamie has.

She makes sure everything’s abundantly wet before she takes position. And I want nothing more than to fully surrender to her, to have her take me like this—to have her fuck me. I watch from under my lashes as she guides the toy ever so slowly inside me, as she spreads me wide, for her—only ever for her.

Something happens to me as she slides deeper inside, as she gently starts to thrust. It’s not just physical—of course it’s not. I can fool myself all I want.

Jamie’s inside me, her body writhes against mine and, most deliciously of all, her face hovers right above mine. She looks into my eyes and all I can see, all I choose to see, is how much she cares for me. How much love there still is between us. I may not ever be able to see it again—it may not be possible in any other context—but right now, it’s crystal clear to me.

It doesn’t take long before I start coming apart at the seams again. I bury my hands in her silky hair as I meet her strokes. I throw my head back so she can kiss my throat—I have no doubt she remembers how that will send me right over the edge. I come hard as she fucks me—as I let her piece some more of the bits of my broken heart back together.

Chapter 22

Jamie

“Excellent taste in bread.” I devour a piece of sourdough from my own bakery.

“Look at this place.” Mac waves her hand about. “Wouldn’t you say I have excellent taste in everything?”

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