Page 46 of Hidden Vows
There’s nothing in the world that could stop me from reaching for her—not at those words. Slowly, so she can still back away if she wants, I cup her face in both of my hands, tilting it so her eyes meet mine. “I never stopped loving you.”
Her feet shuffle and she closes the last bit of space between us, her hands rising to grab my wrists, holding them in place, as if I have any plans of moving them. But it’s the tears building in the corner of her eyes that finally breaks me.
How can she possibly think I don’t love her anymore?
My lips crash to hers with a desperation I’ve never imagined. It’s like a drink of cold water on a hot summer day or the first day of spring after a harsh winter.
It’s like coming home.
I’ve known from the moment I walked away from this town that I’d never be the same again. Leaving Abbey was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, and I’ve constantly thought about a world where we got another chance, but my imagination never conjured up anything like this.
It’s not gentle, not at first. This kiss is fierce and built onseventeen years of want and need. It’s built on a lifetime of love, because there hasn’t been a single day that’s passed that I haven’t loved Abbey with everything I am.
Without pulling away from her, the pressure of my lips against hers gentles, becoming tender as my tongue coasts along her bottom lip, begging for entrance. I feel her tears wet my palms where they cup her cheeks as she melts into me, her hands leaving my wrists and trailing down my arms. She opens her mouth and meets me with equal desperation.
The feel of Abbey pressed against me, her hands at my waist, and her lips moving in tandem with mine, all of it feels so familiar and like everything I’ve always wanted. I can’t believe I made it this long without it.
“Abbey.” I pull away, only enough to see her face. I need to know she really wants this. I need to know this isn’t some itch to scratch or some momentary lapse in judgment.
I need this to mean something real.
We may have spent the last seventeen years apart, but she can still read me as easily as any book on her shelves. “I’ve missed you.” Her grip on my shirt tightens. “I’ve missed this.” Her lips brush over mine lightly as she moves to her toes and whispers in my ear, “I’m done wasting time.”
She moves to press her lips against mine, but I don’t let her. I want this more than anything. To be back where we were before I left—before I messed everything up—but not talking about the details feels like setting us up for failure in the long run. It feels like a Band-Aid on an injury that requires surgery.
“Abbey. We can’t pretend the past didn’t happen.” My voice is gentle, trying desperately to make sure she doesn’t view this as rejection.
“I know, and I’m not asking to. I’m asking to put thatconversation on hold.” She doesn’t fight against my grip. She leans back just a bit more, enough to make sure I can see her face. To make sure I can read how serious she is. To make sure I know she’s telling the truth.
And just like she could read me, I can read her.
She knows what she’s asking for. She knows what she wants, and I don’t know how I’m supposed to say no when it’s everything I want too.
Releasing her face, I drag my hands down her body and around her waist, lifting her as my lips crash back to hers.
There’s so much for us to talk about, so much she doesn’t know. She thinks I lied to her before, and I know how stupid it is for us not to clear the air before this goes any further, but when I drop her onto the one piece of furniture I’ve purchased for the apartment and she stares up at me with that much lust in her eyes, there’s nothing I can do to stop us.
There’s nothing Iwantto do to stop us.
Abbey sits up at the foot of the bed, her eyes never leaving mine as she reaches for me where I lean over her, my hands braced against the mattress on the outside of her thighs.
“Are you sure?” I ask, my eyes roaming her face, searching for even an ounce of hesitation.
Her answer is instant. “Positive.”
It won’t be the last time I check in with her tonight, but it’s all I need to let the dam break. My lips are back on hers. Abbey scoots back on the bed, pulling me with her, and not a single morsel of me fights her on it.
Seventeen years later, and we still move together as if it’s only been hours since we were last together. Her arms snake around my shoulders as she lays back against the bed, my hips fall into the cradle of her thighs as she arches into me, and I can’t stop myhands from roaming up her sides under the hem of her T-shirt.
I don’t even try to stop the groan from breaking free when I finally feel the heat of her skin under the calluses on my palms. Nothing has felt better—well, that’s not completely accurate.
“Jude,” she moans as her hands grip the back of my shirt, tugging and pulling desperately. Her body melts into the bed when her fingers finally meet bare skin.
Thank God I’m not the only one desperate to feel skin.
I pull away, sitting up on my knees—opening her legs wide around me—as I pull my shirt over my head. My eyes are back on her the moment I toss my shirt to the floor, but instead of falling back on top of her, I let my gaze roam her entire body. I’ve barely touched her, but her chest is already heaving, and I honestly can’t blame her. The pressure of my cock pressed against the zipper of my jeans is truly painful, but I do absolutely nothing to relieve it.
Abbey’s back arches, her hips driving into the bed as she seeks some kind of friction, and I feel bad for only a second before I’m letting my hands coast up the outside of her bare legs. Her hips move again as I pause at the waistband of her shorts, but I’m not ready to give her that relief quite yet.
