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He quirked a brow. “Yet?”

I licked my dry lips, still trying to decide the best way to word this. “Last night, after you left—”

“After I left you last night, I came here and tried not to tear the walls down, then when nothing else would work, I sat where you are now and looked through all the pictures I have of you on my phone, taken when you weren’t looking, some when you were. I’ve got a whole file of you, Jasmine, that I look at when I need to calm the storm inside me. Pictures, because the real thing was out of my reach. I had that, needed that, needed you, and somehow I didn’t work out what you were to me until it was too fucking late.”

He had pictures of me? I forced myself to focus on what I needed to say, but it wasn’t easy, not after what he’d just confessed, and not with the way he was staring down at me. “You were right, the things you said before you left.”

“Which things, Jaz?” Gold flecks burst through amber, his fox swirled in his eyes, staring out at me.

“When I did what I did, I took something from you as well.” I was finding it hard to breathe normally. “No, I didn’t know what we were to each other then, but I do now, and I’d like to try to fix it. I don’t know if it’s possible,” I rushed out, “but a friend of mine reminded me how powerful the mating bond is, and that anything’s possible between mates.”

His stomach muscles clenched, and the veins in his forearms bulged. “What are you saying, Jasmine? You want us to mate?”

“Um…that was suggested, but I don’t think we should go that far, if…if it doesn’t work, I don’t want you tied to me and suffering.”

“If what doesn’t work? I’m still not sure what you’re suggesting, butterfly?”

My belly went all zippy and flippy-floppy when he called me butterfly. “That we stay…close, that we try to develop the mating bond. You feel it. Maybe I’ll start to as well and—”

“You’ll fall in love with me again?”

“Yeah. Maybe.”

He leaned forward, gripping the cushion above me with one hand and the arm of the couch with the other. “How close are we talking, Jaz?”

“Well, um…”

He leaned in more. “This close?”

I nodded.

“How about this close?” he said and came closer still, his mouth hovering above mine.

I nodded again as electricity shot through me.

“Closer?” he said with a whole lot of growl in his voice.

“Yes—”

His mouth slammed down on mine, and he hooked a muscled arm around my waist, hauling me off the couch. I wrapped my arms around his shoulders, my legs around his waist. This was dangerous, so damn risky. If this went wrong, if it didn’t work, I could hurt Ren all over again, badly. But I owed it to him, to both of us, to try. I had to at least try. I may not be able to feel the love I’d had for him before, but I still remembered the wild fantasies, the dreams I’d had, the images I’d played through my mind over and over of the two of us together.

I wanted him, I wanted this to work. I wanted to love him again, but this time without any of the pain and sadness. I wanted to know what it was to love him without holding anything back. I wanted to love him this time, knowing he loved me in return.

His tongue delved into my mouth, and he carried me through the living room and down the hall into his bedroom. He lowered me toward the mattress.

“Not here,” I blurted as everything seized inside me. “Not where you brought…” All the others. Not where I saw you with Bree through the window.

He hitched me higher, and the bedside drawer opened and closed, then he was striding back into the hall. He opened the next door. It was a small room with a set of weights in the corner and a couch against the wall. He sucked on my mouth, there was no other word for it, like he couldn’t get enough of me, then stood me on my feet. He quickly tossed the couch cushions aside and pulled on a nylon strap, unfolding the bed. Then he grabbed a couple duvets from the closet behind him and tossed them on the foldout. He turned back to me, grabbed me before I knew what he was going to do, and tossed me on top of it.

“Better?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“Good.” Then he was on top of me, kissing me again, deep and insistent. I thrust my fingers through his damp hair, wanting more. Goddess, the male could kiss. Not that I’d kissed a lot of guys, but none of them had come anywhere close to this.

He did the mouth-sucking thing again and lifted his head, staring down at me. “How you feeling after last night, baby? You sore?”

My face went hot again. “A little achy, but it’s not so bad now.”