Page 152 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
My girl wanted to come.
But I wasn’t ready.
“Not yet,” I warned, and then I spun her, dipping down to pull her into my arms as I rushed us down the hall toward my bedroom. We were a mess of angry kisses and clawing hands as I did, and B whimpered as I laid her down on top of my comforter, like even a second of separation might kill her.
She challenged me with her gaze as she backed up to the pillows, and I chased that beautiful body, settling between her legs and capturing her mouth with mine. Her shoulders hit my headboard and I spread her thighs with my own before dropping my hips and slipping into her again.
I filled her to the hilt, the backboard aiding me, and we both shuddered at the connection.
“Goddamn, B,” I growled, shaking where I suspended myself above her. She dug those damn heels into my ass and I hissed, biting her neck in return. I flexed my hips in and out, just a little, keeping that connection between my pelvis and her clit. Those little thrusts were just what she needed and I knew it.
She came with a cry so loud I felt like we were in a fucking porno, my name rolling off her lips like a plea and a curse all at once.
I smirked against her lips when she finished, slowing my pace between her legs. Then, I hooked one of them under the knee, hiking it up high until her ankle rested on my shoulder. I kissed the thin skin there, my eyes locked on hers.
She was so fucking perfect. So beautiful and sexy and addicting and mine.
I felt her deeper in this position, her heat swallowing me up every time I thrust forward. And she kept those steel eyes on me, begging me to come with her, to spill inside her.
And so I did.
I shook with the release, with the kind of climax only B could provide. It wasn’t the empty, hollow one I’d found countless times in other women. It was my whole body shaking, brain going numb, her nails digging into my soul and leaving a permanent mark right beside the one she’d left three years ago.
There was nothing in the world like fucking B, and maybe the universe knew it. Maybe it knew if it gave me more than just a few times in those years we fought against timing, it would have driven me mad with jealousy if anyone so much as looked at her after knowing what she felt like. Maybe there were beings at work that knew, like with any addiction, that I had to be strong enough to control myself before I could surrender to the high.
I collapsed on top of her, panting as she trailed her nails along my back. I shivered under the touch, kissing her neck before I pressed up to balance on my elbows above her.
“Well, damn.”
She giggled as I kissed her nose. “My thoughts exactly.”
“You have to be mine after that,” I breathed, and in that moment, it was as obvious as the fact that the sky was blue and water was wet. She was mine. Finally, she was mine.
But then her smile dropped.
“I can’t.”
“Fuck that,” I argued, and I thought it was a game. I thought we were playing. “You can. You are.”
“I’m leaving Sunday night, Jamie,” she said, breaking our train of kisses to look me in the eyes.
I hated the seriousness I found there.
I let out a breath, frowning. The universe was a cruel sonofabitch to let us find each other right before she was about to leave.
But I couldn’t let her go yet.
“So be mine for the weekend.”
B’s shoulders sagged. “I can’t. I have plans with my family. This is it… this is all I have.”
This is all I have.
She was honest. She was telling me long before all the pain that would come next exactly what she could give me and what she couldn’t.
But I couldn’t accept it.
“Why can’t we be long distance?”
She laughed at that, wrapping her arms around my neck. “Because that’s a guaranteed way to get our hearts broken.”
It was me who deflated then — because I realized I’d already been broken. For three years, I’d been broken.
She was the only thing that made me feel whole.
“But I’m not running from you anymore, Jamie,” she said when she saw the dejected look on my face.
I studied hers, hoping like hell there wasn’t an ounce of a lie in those words she’d just spoken. “Does that mean you’ll answer my calls?”
She smiled, nodding. “Just… let’s not try to put a name on this. On us.”
I released an aggravated breath, but as I searched her eyes, I realized I’d take her in any way I could — even if the thought of not claiming her with my name on her skin and a big neon sign flashing above her that said JAMIE’S PROPERTY made me see red. “Alright, then,” I conceded. “I need you to give me two things.”
