Page 38 of It's Only Ever Been You

I opened my mouth to argue, to tell her she was wrong, but the words stuck in my throat. Because deep down, I knew she was right. I was leaving, and no matter how much I wanted to hold onto her, I couldn’t ask her to wait for someone who mightnever come back.

So Ilet her go.

I scrub a hand over my face, the ache in my chest sharper than it has any right to be after all this time. I glance back at my phone, tempted to send her a message, to say something—anything—but I know better.

She deserves better than me.

With a sigh, I push off the couch and head to bed, hoping sleep will quiet the thoughts spinning in my head. But as I lie there, staring at the ceiling, her face lingers in my mind, the memory of what we had—and what I lost—cutting deeper than ever. I close my eyes, willing myself to think about anything else.

But then, like it always does, my mind drifts back to her.

I close my eyes and it’s hazy at first, but then it’s her—Emma. She’s standing in front of me, her hair loose and wild, tumbling over her shoulders the way I used to love it. Her lips curve into that soft smile that’s burned into my memory, but there’s something different this time. She’s not the Emma I remember from college or high school. She’s grown, confident, her eyes locked onto mine with an intensity that makes my chest tighten.

“Miss me?” she whispers, her voice low, teasing.

I can’t stop myself—I reach for her, my hands sliding to her hips, pulling her close. Her body presses againstmine, and the warmth of her skin sends a jolt of heat straight through me.

“Every damn day,” I murmur, my voice rough.

Her lips part slightly, and I lean in, capturing her mouth with mine. It’s not soft or tentative; it’s hungry, desperate, like I’m trying to make up for all the time I’ve lost. She gasps against my mouth, her hands sliding up my chest, clutching at my shirt as if she can’t get close enough.

I break the kiss just long enough to look at her, my hands sliding into her hair, tilting her head back. “You’re still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” I say, my voice low, rough with need.

Her eyes darken, and she leans into me, her lips brushing against my ear. “Then show me, Ethan.”

Those three words undo me.

I lift her off her feet, her legs wrapping around my waist as I back her against the nearest wall. My mouth finds her neck, kissing, biting, leaving marks that I know she’ll feel tomorrow. She moans softly, her nails digging into my shoulders, and it’s the most perfect sound I’ve ever heard.

“You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” I whisper against her skin, my hands sliding down to her thighs, gripping her like I’ll never let go. “How crazy you make me? How much I want you?”

“Tell me,” she breathes, her voice trembling.

“Every inch of you,” I growl, my lips brushing against hers. “The way you taste, the way you sound when I touch you. I want all of it, Emma. I want all of you.”

She pulls me back into a kiss, her body arching against mine, and it’s everything. Her scent, her touch, the soft sounds she makes—it’s all-consuming. I can’t think, can’t breathe, can’t do anything but lose myself in her.

I move to the bed, laying her down gently, but the way her eyes light up tells me she doesn’t want gentle. She tugs me down, her hands sliding under my shirt, her nails raking across my skin.

“You’ve been driving me insane for years,” I admit, my voice barely more than a growl. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me?”

Her smile is wicked, and she tilts her hips, pressing against me in a way that makes me curse under my breath. “Then show me,” she says again, her voice challenging, her eyes daring me to lose control.

And I do.

I don’t hold back. My hands roam her body, sliding up under her shirt to the soft skin of her waist, the dip of her back. I tug the shirt over her head, leaving her bare to me except for a thin lace bra that does nothing to hide the curve of her breasts as they spill out of the cups. My mouth is on her before I can stop myself, trailing kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, until I’m nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin just above the lace.

Her breath hitches, her fingers tangling in my hair as she pulls me closer. “Ethan…” she breathes, her voice breaking on my name, and it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.

I slide the straps of her bra down her shoulders, kissing each inch of newly exposed skin. “You’re perfect,” I mutter against her, my hands cupping her, my thumbs teasing her nipples until she’s arching into me, her head falling back against the pillow.

I dip lower, trailing my tongue down her stomach, feeling the way her muscles tense beneath me. My fingers hook into the waistband of her jeans, and I glance up at her, meeting her eyes. “Can I?” I ask, my voice thick with need.

She nods, her lips parted, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

I slide her jeans down her legs, my palms brushing along her thighs, and every inch of her is pulling me deeper under her spell. She’s wearing a pair of black lace panties that leave almost nothing to the imagination, and the sight of her like this—laid out in front of me, flushed and breathless, —is enough to make me lose my mind.

“God, Em,” I groan, running my hands up her thighs, spreading her legs just enough to settle between them. “Do you have any idea how much I’ve thought about this? About you?”

---