Page 83 of Forsaking All Others

“Been looking behind me on a path beaten with regret for the last eight years. Our story had to play out the way that it did because it got us here. It got us Theo. But that’s done now, baby. No more looking back. From this point forward, we look ahead. Gonna give you the life I should’ve been givin’ you all along.”

“Promise?”

Man finds his treasure, he takes it, even if he’s gotta take it on his knees.

“On my knees.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Holly Armstrong

“Kiss me.”

I press my hand to the center of his hard stomach, and he draws in a sharp breath, his eyes hooded and full of desire.

Until now I didn’t realize he was only wearing a pair of jeans, that all the hard plains of his body were on display. The colorful ink I used to trace with my fingers while we lounged in bed, naked and sated, right there for me to touch again. But this time I didn’t want to trace his art with my fingers, I wanted to draw with my mouth.

My palm slides up his chest, moving to his right pec.

“Kiss me,” I repeat breathlessly.Make me yours again.

His eyes dart to my lips as he angles his head. The energy between us crackles and sizzles. The flames…those beautiful flames…they spark and crawl between us. Then his lips touch mine and that heat, that glorious heat that’s been threatening to consume every part of us for the last eight years, finally touches us.

He kisses me slowly and with purpose, both hands fisting my hair as he angles my head and slides his tongue across the seam of my lips. A moan ruptures from the back of my throat as I open for him. His tongue pushes into my mouth and the gentleness fades.

One taste that’s all it takes.

He growls into my mouth as his tongue laps at mine. His teeth graze my lips and I slide my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I return the kiss, meeting every stroke of his tongue, swallowing every glorious moan.

Eight years of longing.

Eight years of regrets.

It’s all poured into one single kiss.

Eight years and our bodies have not forgotten one another. It’s like listening to an old song for the first time. The lyrics come rushing back.

He pulls his fingers from my hand and lowers my back onto the bed without his mouth leaving mine. Covering the top of my body with his, he nips at my lips.

“Heaven,” he growls against my mouth. “Fucking heaven.” His mouth moves to my jaw, down my neck.

Sucking, nipping, and licking.

“Yes,” I murmur. “God, I love your mouth.”

That entices another growl from his throat and his hands slide down my arms. Goosebumps break out across my skin as his hands find mine. Lacing our fingers together, he brings them over my head and pins them to the mattress, giving me more of his weight.

More of him.

Of all that hardness.

My back arches off the bed as his lips continue to wreak havoc on my neck.

“More,” I plead.

“Give you everything,” he rasps against my skin.

Then his hands leave mine and move down my body. He pulls my tank top out of the waistband of my jeans and pushes it up my stomach. His mouth leaves my neck and he inches off me to pull the material over my chest.

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