“Okay?” It sounds like the question costs him, but I also know he cares about the answer.
“More,” I breathe, closing my eyes as sensation spirals through me.
He’s happy to give it to me. His weight shifts as he lifts mywrists above my head. I let him hold me steady as he drives into me with a focus that makes the world tilt. The sound of our bodies meeting and a chorus of needy groans fills the room until I’m practically sobbing his name.
The pleasure builds and crests, and then I’m coming again with a cry I couldn’t hold back if I tried. He follows a moment later, his whole body shuddering as he buries his face in my neck. I feel him pulse inside me. And the way he moans my name is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever heard.
For a long moment, we breathe in sync, totally lost in the moment. When I start to untangle myself and reach for the edge of the bed, his hand closes around my wrist, gentle but firm.
“Stay.”
“Jeremy—”
“Just one night.” His voice is stripped of the control I’ve come to associate with him. “Please.”
Staying breaks other rules I’ve silently set for being with him. It’s supposed to be a way to reclaim my body from the memories of Jon’s hands. Nothing more. It shouldn’t mean anything about Jeremy and me.
But when I look at his face and see the vulnerability he’s not even trying to hide, I can’t make myself leave.
“One night,” I agree, and let him pull me close.
His strong arm wraps around me, and I press my face against his chest. His heartbeat is steady beneath my ear, slowing as his breathing evens out.
I lie awake for a long time after he falls asleep, trying to figure out what the hell I’ve gotten myself into.
11
JEREMY
It’s two weeks later,and I still can’t get Avah Harris out of my head.
As always, downtown Skylark resembles something a Hollywood set designer with a Hallmark fetish decorated. The mid-August sky is the deep Colorado blue that could make the tropical island sky jealous. It’s hot but not humid, and all along Main Street, colorful flowers cascade from massive hanging baskets. Almost every shop has an outdoor display, hand-lettered signs propped against barrels or vintage crates, each one more aggressively quaint than the last.
I hate how much I don’t hate it here.
Cover to Cover bookstore is situated in the center of town, its green awning faded enough to suggest it’s been there for decades. Above it, Sloane’s apartment windows catch the afternoon light. Avah is up there, and has been since she left Bora Bora without waking me. Without the final days I’d been foolish enough to assume we’d share before flying back together.
The morning after we’d fallen asleep in each other’s arms, I woke in an empty bed to Damon knocking on the villa’s door with coffee and the information that Ms. Harris haddeparted on the 6 a.m. shuttle to the airport. She’d asked him to relay the messagethat she appreciated my hospitality. Like I’d simply let her use my pool and not fucked her until we forgot our own names.
Sloane called the next day, right as I was boarding my private jet back to California. There was no reason to stay without Avah.
“I wanted to thank you,” my sister said. “Avah told me you put her up after she walked out on Jon because she’s my friend and I’d be pissed if you hadn’t.”
I’d gripped my phone so hard it’s a wonder the screen hadn’t cracked. “That’s about right.”
“I think it’s because you’re a better person than you let people in on.” Her voice had been warm with her particular brand of sunshine. That eternal optimism used to grate on me. Now I envy it.
But, like the ass I am, I confirmed that watching over Avah had been an inconvenience. I was on the island trying to close a business deal, and her friend had complicated things. My sister, ever generous with her assumptions about my character, had been sweet and grateful anyway.
Since then, Sloane and I have talked on the phone several times. And I couldn’t stop myself from trying to casually ask about Avah without sounding like I was more than a little butthurt about waking up alone.
On our last call, Sloane hesitated for only a moment before spilling her guts. “Jon is being the absolute douche canoe we all knew he was. But Avah’s strong. She’s going to be okay.”
I had Raina do some digging, but there wasn’t much to find. Avah had scrubbed her social media and gone completely dark online. The only concrete information I had was Jon Clark calling my assistant on the regular, trying to set up a meeting with me, which was part of the deal I authorized the hotel manager to offer to get him off the island that night.
I also gave him use of my private jet for the trip home. Being civil to that piece of shit scraped at my insides like broken glass, butI’d hoped it would dissuade him from seeking revenge on Avah. Apparently, he was too stupid to recognize a veiled threat when it was handed to him on a silver platter.
I stop in front of the bookstore, standing on a sidewalk in small-town Colorado like some lovesick idiot who flew nine hundred miles just to see a woman who wants nothing to do with him.
