Page 144 of Their Greatest Strength

“I will never break you,” I swear, pressing our noses together. “I’ve jumped in with two feet and am ready to either sink or swim. Of course, I’d prefer to swim, but that’s up to you.”

“What if I did something that hurt you? Something that broke your trust? Would you break me then?”

I push past my initial confusion and brush my mouth acrosshers. “Crush me beneath your boot, and I’ll find a way to glue myself back together and fight for you. I’m your husband, Blakely. I don’t fucking care that it wasn’t real in the beginning. It is now.”

She doesn’t reply with words.

When her lips meet mine, pushing with a fierceness I feel all the way in my bones, words are useless, anyway. I’m more than okay with communicating like this for the rest of time.

42

BLAKELY

I try notto think about my childhood too much. Not the bad memories or the good ones, because reminding yourself of what isn’t here anymore hasn’t ever helped anyone.

With Jamie, it became easier not to stray to that blocked-off section in my mind. He keeps me busy, distracted. Happier than I’ve ever been, past and present. I was in a fairy-tale world the past few weeks where for the first time in forever, I was content with only looking forward, excited about what was to come.

Maybe that was my first mistake.

If I had paid more attention to my past instead of writing it off, I wouldn’t have let my mom surprise me. I’d have been expecting her to pull herself out of the gutter and show up again once things had finally changed for us. It was only a matter of time before she found something in my life worth ruining.

The one thing I could have happily kept forever.

Jamie, with his winks and booming laugh, the heart of gold that could break the world’s largest scale, and arms that I could have stayed in for decades, is the first person besides Nate that I’m willing to sacrifice everything for.

Even if it’s my happiness hanging in the balance.

He kisses me with an eagerness that makes me feel cherished,like I’m someone to him that he can’t stand thinking about not having in his life. That almost makes everything worse.

Almost. Because right now, I’m not prepared to focus on anything but giving my heart what it wants, and that’s him soul-deep inside of me.

Jamie holds me with a firm but gentle touch while encouraging me to seat myself on his lap. He’s hard beneath me, and I moan at the first brush of him between my legs.

“I didn’t do this for sex, Bandit,” he whispers, stilling me when I buck against him.

“I know.”

“You’re everything to me.”

Emotion tries to claw its way up my throat, but I swallow it down. “You’re everything to me too.”

He kisses me again, and his tongue meets mine with a soft stroke. I lean up on my knees, forcing his head back to keep our mouths fused. It’s only in this position that I’m above him, and I think he likes it. The groan that rattles his chest intensifies the throb in my centre.

With a slow drag of his fingers, he guides my shirt up my body. I lift my arms while he pulls it over my head, and then it’s gone, tossed out of sight. The clasps of my bra are plucked, and the straps droop down my arms before he tugs them both off.

My breasts hang free, nipples already hard but stiffening further as he lowers his eyes, staring at them. With me leaning above him, all it takes is a dip of his chin to drag his lips across one and suck it into his mouth.

I close my eyes, sighing at the swell of arousal in my belly. Jamie lashes my nipple with his tongue while I palm the back of his head, keeping him in place.

When my nipple grows too sensitive, I guide him to the other, encouraging him to give it the same love and attention. He doesn’t leave me wanting. His enthusiasm is electric, confidence building. It makes me feel sexy and desired in the way I’d always dreamed of.

“I need you,” I whisper, pulling lightly on his hair.

He releases my nipple and looks up at me, nodding while his hands find the backs of my thighs. I reach behind his neck and fist his shirt before pulling it up and over his head.

Chest bare and heaving, he doesn’t move, waiting for my next move. I rest my hands on his abdomen and splay my fingers out over his muscles, taking in the hot, firm feel of them.

When he hisses, they flex, quaking beneath my touch. I push them up his body and move them outward, holding the wide expanse of his thick shoulders.

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