Page 110 of Second Chance Saloon

She urged them to turn slightly, placing her foot on the raised verge for sitting.

Just before he thrust in, his gaze fell to her lips. “You’re gorgeous, you know that?”

Her eyes glazed over as the tip of his cock nudged her entrance. “You might’ve told me that once or twice.”

He plunged into her and her mouth released a strangled cry. “Seems like I have a lot of catching up to do.” His cock buried deeper into her, and she grabbed on to his neck.

They started moving and it was like picking up where they left off. Apparently, one couldn’t forget how to fit together after making love so many times before. Every movement was familiar and completely new at the same time, blasting the inhibitions and worries in her brain with laser-like precision, leaving only the sweet pressure.

Her fingernails broke the skin over his shoulders.

His mouth dragged over her cleavage, his lips closing over her nipple and sucking it. Then, he took it between his teeth and bit down.

Jackie tossed her head back, drops of water smashing on her tightly closed eyelids. “I’m … I’m so close.”

Grabbing her chin between his fingers, Mitch tilted it back. “Look at me, Jackie. I want to see you explode.”

Her lashes swept up, and her gaze was bottomless, on the brink of the orgasm.

He inhaled sharply, his thrusts picking up the pace and his breathing growing ragged.

Eyes locked like neither wanted to ever let go, they rode together over the ecstasy line.

The scream that rose from her throat shattered every single fiber in her body.

Jackie thought she wouldn’t be able to take any more, but he didn’t stop, drawing out more notes she couldn’t hit under normal circumstances.

They came together, like their bodies remembered the rhythm they had set ten years ago.

Maybe it was muscle memory.

Maybe it was something else.

Or, likely, it was a bit of everything, sprinkled with magic.

Jackie knew this wasn’t just fucking, it was making love, and if in the morning he didn’t want to stay with her, her glass heart would break into a million pieces.

CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

March, ten years ago

Jackie

The thick binder clunked as it hit the bottom of the bin. Jackie glared at its purple cover. So many late nights spent in the library, compiling the notes, rewriting and highlighting, so many days she went over its contents again and again … only for this to happen.

Her jaw locked as she dumped a second binder in the bin.

“Honey, do you want to go to the store with me—” Sharon’s question cut off as she froze in the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Getting rid of all my notes. I won’t be sitting finals now, so they’re useless.”

Sharon crept forward, deep worry lining her forehead. “Sweetie, we talked about this. You’ve heard what the doctor said. Your test wasn’t positive.”

“But it wasn’t negative either!” Her gaze was steely. “Freaking gray area. Reduced penetrance. I’ve heard them. What does it matter?” Jackie kicked the desk leg, pulling air through her nostrils. “I’m only four repeats from a positive test. I’m ten repeats away from a negative test. How am I meant to live, knowing I might or might not develop Huntington’s?”

Sharon blanched. “They said you might never show any signs.”

“But I also might! Don’t you get it?” She stomped her foot. “It’s always going to hang over me. If I have children, they might inherit the gene and they might get Huntington’s for sure.”