Page 96 of A Love Letter to Whiskey
He ran his hand down my thigh, hooking behind my knee and hiking my leg up high as he flexed into me harder. I moaned, eyes rolling back, self-control obliterated. His fingers slid around the back of my thigh and brushed under my shorts, running the length of my panties, and then my eyes shot open and I pressed two hands hard into his chest.
“I don’t have the will to stop this, Jamie,” I breathed. He fell down against my palms, mouth catching mine in a hungry kiss. I pushed back again, and he grinned, hips rolling into mine as I fought against the blood pounding hot and low. “You have to be the one to stop. I can’t…”
My breaths were so loud, and they fueled Jamie’s desire. He licked his lips, on his way down to kiss me again when I spoke louder.
“You’re getting married.”
He paused, hand stilling behind my thigh, eyes burning down into mine. I wanted to be a good person, I wanted to tell him to stop, to tell him it was wrong, but the truth was I wanted him. And I was going to let him make the choice.
“If you kiss me again, you could ruin everything.” My chest heaved with every word. “If you kiss me again,” I repeated, eyes locked on his. “I won’t let you stop.”
Jamie dipped a little lower, lips close to mine again, but he paused. His brows bent together, breath still hard on my skin, and I waited. I didn’t tempt him further. I didn’t buck my hips against him or run my nails down his back. I just waited, letting him think for a minute before he made his next move. When he sighed and dropped his grip on my leg, I let out the breath I’d been holding, closing my eyes so I didn’t have to see realization dawn on his face.
He rolled off me, falling to the side, both of us on our backs and breathing like the oxygen burned.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, and I shook my head.
“Don’t be. It’s just lust, Jamie,” I lied. He knew it was a lie, I knew it too, but Angel didn’t deserve to be hurt just because we figured that out too late. He loved her, but he felt that same primal need for me that had always existed between us. It wouldn’t be fair for me to let him throw away everything he’d built with her just because he wanted me one more time.
If he had kissed me even once more, I would have given up fighting. I would have given into him, and then we would have woken up the next day with hearts full of guilt. He would have been a cheater, and me a homewrecker. I sat up straight, needing distance, but Jamie reached out for me.
“Wait,” he pleaded. “Can you… will you just stay? Just lie here with me.”
I looked down at him, wondering if the battles inside his head were the same as mine. Nodding, I laid back down, and he pulled my back to his chest, breath slowly evening out until I knew he was asleep.
I shouldn’t have said his name. I should have pulled away when he said goodnight, forced him to let go of me. I thought I was clean, thought I could handle the temptation, but I’d caved. I’d tasted him again, fed that carnal monster inside me, and it’d been the biggest mistake. Because now, I remembered so clearly how it felt to be with him, and I realized that even though I asked him to stop, I didn’t really want him to.
But he had.
And tomorrow, he would marry another woman with me in the background.
I wasn’t clean at all.
I wasn’t sure I’d ever be.
JAMIE’S TENT RUSTLING WOKE me early the next morning, daylight just barely breaking against the forest green fabric. I cracked my eyes open, meeting Charlie’s hard eyes as he looked in at us. He tapped the back of his wrist, signaling to me that it was time to go. I nodded, and he frowned a little harder before dropping the curtain and leaving us alone.
My neck was stiff from sleeping on Jamie’s arm, and I rolled slowly, cringing against the ache as I did. Jamie’s eyes fluttered open when I moved, and I leaned up on my elbow, looking down on him as he gazed back up at me.
“Hey,” I whispered.
He stretched a little, the sleeping bag pulling down to reveal his bare chest. “Hi.”
The way Whiskey looked that morning nearly killed me. He watched me intently, eyes sleepy, hair mussed from my hands. It was the last morning he would wake up as my Jamie, and he wasn’t really even that. He never had been, and yet he always was. We would never be together, and yet we’d never be apart. It was sick, it hurt like hell, and for some reason we both held onto the racking agony.
