Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
JENSEN
Her lips are on mine before I can respond—warm, all-consuming—and I meet them with the same intensity. It’s everything I’ve hoped for. Everything I’ve needed.
She came to me. She read the letter.
She’s here.
Alley pulls back, her hands fisting in my shirt. “Dammit, Jensen. Why didn’t you just sign the papers?” Her voice cracks. “Why the hell are you still here trying to make this work?”
Is she serious?
We’d be here all fucking night if I listed the reasons I’m still here.
I take a slow step forward, backing her up against the wall.
“Jesus, Alley. I’m here because I want us to work.
I’m not trying to make this harder for you.
” I search her eyes. They’re red, wet from crying.
“How could I not fight for the best thing that’s ever happened to me?
Huh? You really expect me to just let you walk away and be fine with it? ”
She doesn’t move. Doesn’t breathe.
“Because that’s fucking crazy, if you think that.
” My voice drops. “You’re it for me, Al.
There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you. Nothing I wouldn’t give up.
” I squeeze my eyes shut, almost pleading before I open them.
“I just wanna be the guy who gets to wake up next to you. Tell you about my shitty days after work. The good ones too.”
I cage her in, pressing both hands flat against the wall above her head, exhaling slow. My eyes lock on hers, begging her to see it—how much I mean this. “God, babe,” I whisper. “I love you. I wanna start a family with you.”
I swallow, nostrils flaring. Ah, fuck. I refuse to get emotional right now.
“Don’t you think I want that?” she snaps, her voice cracking. “I always wanted that.” She wipes at her nose, eyes shimmering. “But you went and ruined everything.”
“I know I did.” My voice breaks.
She just stands there, eyes searching mine, chest rising and falling—sharing air, sharing this mess I made.
She lets out a shaky breath. “Sometimes I just wish you were an asshole.”
My brow furrows. “What?”
“Then I’d feel good about leaving you.” Her laugh is small and broken. “I could just walk away, you know?”
I scoff, jaw tightening. “Is that really what you want?”
“No.” Her chin trembles. “But I don’t know if I can do this.”
“You don’t have to, babe. I’ll carry it. All of it.” I kiss her forehead. “I’ll stay clean, Al. I swear on everything.”
Gripping her chin gently, I tilt her face to mine. “I’ll respect whatever you want. If you leave, if that’s what you choose, I’ll be okay. Eventually. But I’ll love you either way. Long after you’re gone. Because, God, I’ll never stop loving you.”
A tear slides down her cheek, and she wipes it with her sleeve.
Then she kisses me again, slow and tentative at first. But when she skates her tongue across my lips, it becomes something more. Grows urgent. Like she needs me to breathe. Like this kiss is the only thing keeping her alive. Her hands slide up my chest and wrap around my neck.
Swear to God, it puts life back in my soul. I feel whole. Complete. For the first time in months.
Because Alley? She’s my other half. I’m not even a quarter of the man I’m meant to be without her by my side.
My hand cups the back of her neck, and our tongues tangle in a heady mix of longing, apologies, and everything in between.
I let her take the lead. I don’t know what she’s thinking, or what she wants, and a small part of me worries she hasn’t thought this through.
But it doesn’t change how I feel.
I know what I want. It’s never changed. It never will.
I want her.
All of her.
Now.
Always.
Forever.
She moans into my mouth, and just like that, I’m done pretending I can take this slow. I kiss her hard. Desperate. Turning up the heat in an instant.
Her hands grip the back of my neck as she kisses me like she’s trying to erase the past, and I slide my hands down her waist, anchoring her against the wall. Our mouths collide, hot, deep, demanding.
Her fingers bunch in my shirt, yanking me closer. Her thighs brush mine, hips shifting, and it’s fucking chaos, in the best possible way.
She pulls away again, breathless. “I’m still mad at you.” Her eyes glisten, lips swollen from our kiss.
I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat. “I know, baby.”
Her mouth finds mine again, and I kiss her back.
“I want to hate you,” she breathes against my lips.
“I know.”
She’s trembling now.
I kiss the corner of her mouth. Her cheek. Brush away the tears with my thumb.
“But you don’t,” I murmur.
Her eyes close, and I rest my forehead against hers.
“No,” she whispers. “I don’t.”
She leans in again, lips brushing mine, searching—like all the answers are hidden in my mouth.
So I let her look for them.
This time, when I kiss her, it’s not about sex or heat or desperation. It’s about love. About survival. About fucking fate.
I keep it slow, pouring everything I have into it. Everything I’ve ever felt for her. Everything I’ve missed these past two and a half years. I want to kiss it all away. Make her feel good. And more than anything, I want to be the one who gets to make her happy.
I bring my hands to her face, thumb sweeping over her cheek, and suck her bottom lip into my mouth, tugging gently.
She whimpers, and I let my lips trail sideways.
I press kisses along her cheek and jaw, until I reach her ear.
I flick my tongue against her earlobe, then murmur, “I can’t imagine a life where you’re not in it.
Please don’t make me find out what kind of hell that would be. ”
She doesn’t say anything. Just shakes her head.
Her breath leaves her, sharp and shaky, and when I make my way back to her mouth, it crashes into mine. Nothing soft about it this time. Her tongue slides against mine, and the sound she makes nearly undoes me.
She’s moving, pushing me through the kitchen until my back hits the opposite wall. Her fingers comb through my hair, and she’s kissing me like I’m oxygen and she’s been suffocating without me.
My hands roam greedily, over her tits, down her back, gripping her hips like I can tether her here with me. She rolls them once, and I groan, burying my face in her neck. My cock’s never been so fucking lonely.
“I need you, baby,” I rasp, dragging my lips along her jaw.
She tugs at my shirt, breathless. “Off. Take this off.”
I help her yank it over my head and drop it to the floor, then grip the hem of hers and lift. She undoes the clasp of her bra, letting it slide down her arms.
Our chests collide, bare skin to bare skin. It feels so fucking good. It’s fire and lightning and that deep kind of ache that only she can touch.
She pushes back, a spark in her eyes as her hands skim down my chest. My abs flex under her touch as her nails drag lower. Her gaze roams over my body, hungry and slow. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to see all this.”
Jesus, she’s killing me. I suck in a breath, body already reacting. Then I grip her thighs and lift her off the ground without warning. She gasps, legs wrapping around me instantly, grinding against me, and fuck, if it doesn’t make me harder.
I spin, pressing her back to the wall again, trailing my mouth down her neck, biting, sucking, tasting. Her breath hitches when I drag my teeth across her collarbone and kiss the curve of her breast.
“Tell me to stop,” I growl, one hand braced under her ass, the other sliding between us.
She shakes her head, hard. “Don’t you fucking dare.”
My fingers work to open her jeans as I kiss her again. It’s wild and hot, all tongue and teeth and breathless moans. Every time our skin brushes, she makes this soft little whimper that shoots straight to my cock.
“You’re shaking,” I murmur against her lips.
“So are you.”
“Yeah,” I whisper, kissing her again. “Because I’ve never wanted anything this bad in my life.”
I trail my hand down the front of her open jeans, fingers pressing against the thin fabric of her panties. I groan when I feel how wet she is for me. “Fuck, baby. You’re soaked.”
“I’ve wanted this just as much as you,” she breathes. “You think I don’t dream about this? That I don’t get off to you?”
“Christ. Don’t tell me that.”
She grinds down on my hand as I rub slow, deliberate circles over her clit, and I’m seconds from losing it.
“Jensen,” she pants. “Take me to the bedroom.”
Reluctantly, I pull my hand away. I grip her ass firmly and walk us both to the master bedroom.
I toss her onto the bed, and she laughs as my fingers wrap around her jeans and tug, peeling them off in one swift motion.
I toss them aside, then slide my hands slowly up her thighs, savoring every perfect inch.
Her chest rises and falls in shallow bursts, her eyes sultry and dark. She looks sexy as hell.
“You’re unreal,” I murmur, kissing the inside of her knee, then dragging my mouth higher. “The hottest fucking woman I’ve ever seen.”
She reaches for me, but I grip her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed, locking eyes with her as I hook my fingers around the sides of her panties.
“Jensen—”
I yank them down and toss them aside without breaking eye contact. Then I spread her thighs and settle between them, my hands locking her in place.
Time to make her feel good.
I don’t give her time to think. I dive in, tongue flicking over her clit, slow and deliberate. She gasps, back arching off the bed.
“Oh my God,” she whimpers, her fingers fisting in my hair, thighs trembling around me.
I grip her hips tighter. “You’re so fucking wet,” I murmur, kissing her inner thigh before diving back in. “You taste unreal.”
I groan against her, devouring her like it’s been years—because it fucking feels like it. I’ve been starving for her.
She cries out, grinding against my mouth, her whole body shaking. “Don’t stop.”
Never.
Not when she’s like this. Naked. Breathless. Fuck… begging.