Page 34 of Amethyst

“You don’t have to talk about that.” I push a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Yeah, that’ll just taint tonight, and I don’t want that. I don’t ever want anything to blemish what happens between us tonight.”

What I can’t tell her is that it’s already blemished. Because I’m in love with her, and this night will mean so much more to me than it does to her. But if this is the gift she needs from me in this moment, I will happily give it to her.

“I want you,” I tell her. “I want you very much right now, and I desperately want to kiss those sweet lips again.”

“What’s stopping you, then?”

I press my lips to hers.

12

JENNA

His lips again. Those full, firm lips that capture mine so completely. His probing tongue, and even his teeth, nibbling at my lower lip.

This kiss is something dreams are made of. Something that happens between lovers.

Max isn’t my lover, of course. Though in the technical sense, I suppose he is.

He kisses me deeply, passionately, even a bit harshly.

And I love it. I love every freaking second of it.

But he breaks it almost as quickly. “God damn, Jenna. God damn.”

Then he pulls me back to him, ravishes just my lips once more.

We kiss again for timeless moments, until he breaks again to take a breath, but before he descends on my lips, he grabs me into his arms and carries me like a child through the living area to a door.

His bedroom.

We enter his bedroom…which houses his king-size bed.

Has he made love to Mimi in this bed?

The spear of jealousy surprises me. Of course he made love to Mimi in this bed. They were engaged.

I wipe the thought from my mind as he sets me gently on the bed.

“I’m going to ask you this only once more,” he says, his gaze serious. “Are you absolutely sure about this? That this is what you want?”

“Very sure,” I say on a breath. “I want you so much right now I can’t see straight, Max.”

He unbuttons his shirt, spreads the two halves, and I suck in a breath at his gorgeous chest.

Black hairs are scattered over it, and my God, his pecs are gorgeous, and his abs—a six pack. A sculpted six pack.

“You’ve been working out,” I say.

He doesn’t answer, just burns me with those dark eyes. Until—

“You want me to keep going?”

I nod. “Please.”

He unsnaps his jeans, slides them over his well-formed ass, bringing his muscular thighs into my view.

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