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We were on the other side of the Porsche, away from any possible cars on the road, so . . . why not?
He slid his hand between our bodies, and when I bunched up my dress, he reached for my panties and thumbed them.
I leaned forward, pulling his earlobe between my teeth before whispering, “I’m wet,” which only spurred him on that much more.
“Not a chance in hell I’m going to risk someone seeing me fuck my woman.” He feathered his finger along the seam of my panties again before withdrawing his hand to grip the back of my neck. “So,” he rasped while angling his head and drawing his mouth near mine, “you’ll just have to be a good girl and wait.”
* * *
TWO DAYS LATER - WALKINS GLEN, ALABAMA
“Are you . . .?”
Sitting on our bed back at home, Jesse quietly reached for another one of my handwritten letters from the box. “Me? Crying? Not on your life,” he said, his glossy eyes catching mine.
“You wanted to read the letters.” I clutched the bedsheet, hiding my breasts. Feeling exposed in a new way. Jesse was seeing me in a whole new light. The progression of my thought process about him and our relationship over the course of fifteen-plus years from my unsent letters. Well, one had been sent.
“I didn’t know it’d be this . . . hard.” He closed his eyes, and I kept hold of the sheet and reached for his forearm and squeezed. “I want to go back in time and do a little more than just smack my younger self for making you feel this way. For making us wait so damn long.”
I shifted to a kneeling position alongside him, still holding the sheet as if my husband didn’t have every square inch of my body already memorized. “Babe, don’t do this. Remember what you said in California? No ‘what ifs’ allowed. We’re where we should be.”
He opened his eyes, his gaze falling to the letter in hand.
Oh. Not the best letter of the bunch. It was the one where I’d told him I was engaged to Brian. Ouch.
His hand was trembling slightly, and he let go of the letter and curled his fingers inward. “Where does Brian live now?”
“Why?”
“I’m in the mood to commit murder.” A quick smile slid across his face.
“But Brian and I never . . .” I wasn’t going to finish that sentence, not with the hard look on his face.
“No man should have ever touched you but me, Ella.” His eyes snapped my way. “You wanted me to be your first kiss. Your first in bed. And I fucked up. Then I kept fucking up.” His breaths quickened, and shit, I was losing him to anger. To pain. This was what I was worried about. The guilt and regret. “Hell, I even burned the letters you probably wish you could’ve read, and—”
“Stop. I have you. I don’t need the letters.” I squeezed his hand. “Don’t do this. Please. And as for the past, you were trying to protect me. You’ve always had my best interest at heart. And Jesse, you’ll always have something that no one else ever will. That no one else ever has.” I smiled, brought our hands to my chest, allowing the sheet to slip and fall. “My heart. My love.”
His brows pinched, and a tear fell down his cheek.
“Tell me something you wrote to me,” I whispered when he kept quietly staring at me. Dealing with past demons I’d thought he’d laid to rest.
His shoulders fell. “I told you how much I loved you. Missed you. Regretted not being with you. How you kept me alive. Just the thought of you helped me survive the war.” Another tear. “Told you about my nightmares. My dad. The fighting.” The catch and emotion in his voice as he relived those memories was going to destroy me. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I put you through hell for over fifteen years.” He shook his head as tears formed in my eyes.
I dropped our hands from my chest and pushed the letters aside to climb on top of him, hooking my ankles behind his back and cradling his face.
His mind may have been hurting, but we were naked, so his body didn’t care. His cock stood at attention the second my pussy got near it.
He groaned in response.
“What if we burn my letters, too? Let them all be lost forever? That was our past. The good, bad . . . the whatever it was. All that matters is the now. Today. The life full of tomorrows to come.”
“I’m not burning your letters,” he said under his breath. “Not a chance in hell.” The crook of his lips into an awkward smile gave me hope my Jesse was coming back to me. “But I still kind of want to kill Brian.”
I cry-laughed at that and he covered my hands still on his cheeks.
“Sweetheart?”
“Yeah?” I murmured.
