Page 101 of True Abandon

I step forward again. “I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”

“No, you’re not,” he raises his voice. He clenches his jaw and looks back at me. “I’m your past. I’m the guy that had his chance and blew it. I had no business coming back into your life and fucking everything up. That guy,” he leans forward and motions his arms out, “Kevin, he traveled all the way here. Not to right some fucking wrong. He came here because you had a relationship. A real, adult relationship. One that I helped you fuck up.”

“For your information, he’s here for work, not some epic crusade to get me back. I told you earlier. That relationship wasn’t right.”

He doesn’t seem to care what I have to say. “So he doesn’t want you back?” His brow rises in a dare for me to lie. I don’t answer him because I refuse to give him the satisfaction of being right even in the slightest.

“What about that other guy? The suit. He’s supposed to be wining and dining you. Treating you like a real man should. If I weren’t here, you’d be out with him right now.”

I raise my arms in frustration. “Stop telling me what I would and wouldn’t, should and shouldn’t be doing!”

“Of course, I’m going to tell you what to do. I don’t want you to ruin your life again on my account.”

I lean forward and grab the arms of his chair. “Why? Why do you have the right to say what I do?”

“Because I love you!” he shouts and my breath hitches. Even though they’re beautiful words, ones I’ve dreamed about hearing again, they’re not said with devotion. They’re said through the pain.

My lips quiver as I declare, “Regardless of what you think, you may be my past, but you’re also my future.” I lean my head in further into his personal space and declare, “I choose you. The saint and the sinner. The villain and the victim. I choose you, Jackson Davis, because whether you like it or not I’ve been in-love with you since I was fourteen-years-old and you glud your stupid fingers together. You made a terrible mistake and not only did I forgive you, but right now it’s long forgotten. I can’t even think of what that time in my life was like. Right here, right now, I am looking at a man in front of me, and I can tell you without a doubt, I choose you. If you don’t want me then fine. I’ll move on. But no matter who I’m with from here on out it will be unfair to them because I have and always will be yours. And you’re mine.”

I push off his chair and back away, turning to face the water and grab the wrought-iron railing. My chest is rising, and my fingers are shaking. Not from anger or fear, but because I’ve never felt this much passion toward someone in my entire life, having it unleashed in words is the most powerful thing I’ve ever felt.

Jax comes up behind me, pressing his strong body flush against my own. I let out a quivering exhale at the heat that radiates off his body.

“You love me?” he asks with a shaky breath.

I close my eyes and nod.

He lowers his head to my shoulder, and his arms wrap around my waist. I lean my head into him and feel the tears pouring down from his cheeks onto my shoulder. I turn further into him and take his head in my hands.

“Jackson.” I whisper his name.

He rests his head against mine. His arms hold on tighter as if unable to let go for fear he’ll lose me again.

I skim my fingers through his hair and draw him to me. His breath is hot against mine. His lips are close enough to taste.

We lean in and back away before our mouths collide, claiming what’s ours.

Our kisses grow deeper, telling a story our hearts were too afraid to say. We were two young kids who loved each other and gave ourselves to one another in ways no one else has ever known. We spent years blaming each other and ourselves for the sins we committed, and it’s been torture. Yet, beneath all that hurt is the base of love that started with the simple purchase of an ice cream cone, ignited with a declaration in the rain and reinvigorated with a man wounded in a hospital room.

I release our kiss and push him back, placing him back in the seat he was in. His glass of liquor is on a table next to him. I lift it and hold it up to his mouth. He takes a sip, and I kiss the alcohol that remains on his lips before bringing the glass to my mouth and finishing it off. I place it back on the table and step back.

I kick off my boots and slide off my socks. I’m standing barefoot, on the lanai with the man I love seated before me. I run my hands through my hair, bring into up off my neck, and then dropping it back down over my shoulders.

With the moon illuminated over my shoulder and the heated flame from the nearby fire at my feet, I sway my hips from side to side, dipping down and rising up. With my outstretched hands, I move in a sultry dance, a vixen in the night, erotic hula that is for one man and one man only.

I tell the story of two young lovers who were passionate and true. The man had forsaken the woman, but they were torn apart. He traveled over the sea to win her back.

And he did, earning her love, forever.

His pupils widen and the gaze that was softened moments ago is now hardened—darkened with lust. I shake from the inside at the provocative way his tongue darts out and skims his lower lip.

His legs spread wide, the towel rising up his thighs. I continue to dance as I grip the sides of the gauze and bring my dress up, exposing the soft skin of my stomach and over the curve of my breasts. I raise it over my head and discard the fabric on the ground. With my gaze firm on his, I repeat my steps, giving my body an extra sway as I jut out my hip as I remove my top and let that, too, fall to the ground.

He lets out a moan in appreciation. I lift my hands to my breast and give them a squeeze, my thumbs running dangerous circles around my nipples. The feel of my own hands on my skin, combined with the seductively, piercing gaze he is giving me, and the way his fingers start to dance along the ends of his chair, eager to touch, I’m titillating with need.

He may be trying to restrain his hands, but his erection has a mind of his own. His towel is tented, the opening widening as his manhood threatens to break free.

Watching the surge of carnal desire simmering before me, I feel immortal.