He nodded, then shook his head as it dipped closer so the bridge of his nose faintly brushed against my jaw. "Tell me that night meant nothing," he begged, but his tone didn't fit the way he was gripping me tighter, like he was afraid I would.

It meant nothing. Three words that could have stopped this-stopped everything. Three words that would have meant a future I had been so sure of before Jentry stepped back into my life. Three words that would always be a lie with this man, and that I couldn't force myself to say with his touch searing my skin-branding me again.

Jentry whispered my name against my lips, another plea. He kept his face close to mine and held my stare as he gave me one last chance. "Tell me you don't want me . . . tell me to walk away, and I will."

My chest ached at the barely concealed fear in his eyes. "I can't."

It was as if I'd been sleeping through the past ten months. The moment his mouth met mine every nerve ending came alive. An exhilarated tremor rolled through my soul now that we'd stopped fighting and had embraced the connection we had both been longing for.

He cradled my neck in one of his hands and pressed me impossibly closer as his mouth coaxed mine open. His tongue slid against mine, teasing me with the slightest taste of him, and a pained whimper sounded in the back of my throat when he bit down on my bottom lip. Just as fast, he pressed the faintest kiss in the same place before claiming my mouth again.

Hard and soft.

My body melted against his, silently begging for more.

"Because it feels like I need you to f.u.c.king breathe, and you're just out of my reach."

I understood his words from the night before all too well.

Kissing Jentry was exactly like breathing-each brush of his lips against mine was like a rush of oxygen to my lungs that I'd been deprived of all this time.

As he pressed me back against the counter and leaned into me, deepening the kiss and sending a cool shiver through my body, I wondered what time I had just been thinking of. Because as the kiss progressed, it felt as if there had been no time lost with Jentry. Not really.

There hadn't been a day where my mind hadn't been consumed by his memory. Where the blood flowing through my veins hadn't felt like fire burning me from the inside out as I craved him-craved this. And now that all-too-familiar fire was there, building and building, engulfing us in its wild flames until nothing but us existed.

Our kiss broke for the briefest of seconds when his large hands gripped at my waist and lifted me onto the counter. His dark eyes flashed to mine, need raging through them, a need I felt too well.

I cradled his face in my hands and brought us together again before he'd even finished setting me down, and moaned into his mouth when he pulled me to the very edge of the counter and stepped between my legs. I had ached to feel him again, and he was so close.

His fingers gripped my hair and pulled back roughly, and his mouth made a soft, teasing descent down the front of my neck.

Hard and soft, I thought. My soul soared.

My fingers trailed back to his buzzed hair, and for once, I wasn't transported back to that night. I was there-right there with him.

My eyes fluttered open, and I just barely had time to slap one of my hands over my mouth to mute the shocked cry that tore from my throat. Jentry whirled around, his head snapped up to take in our company as his body seemed to expand, as if he was protecting me, just like he had the night before.

Our fire instantly diminished as icy dread filled my veins. I couldn't speak; I couldn't remember how to breathe. I just stared at her.

Part III.

That Night . . .

His eyes met mine again, and with a slowness that made me think this night was going to go a certain way, he laid me back on the bed. After searching through the nightstand and pulling out a couple of condoms, he left one on top of the nightstand, but kept the other in his hand as he came to stand in front of me again. "Last chance."

I didn't understand his tone, but for a brief moment, I wondered if he was giving me all these chances to leave for a reason. I looked at his beautifully sculpted body and face, and my heart raced. Trouble and strength, just like I'd thought all night, but there was something in his eyes. Something I didn't understand, just like his voice. "Should I be scared of you?"

He shook his head once, then crawled onto the bed and hovered over me.

With complete sincerity, he said, "No, but a guy like me shouldn't be allowed to stain your good."

I blinked quickly and heat rushed to my cheeks. All of this was new: the party, the night with a complete stranger . . . but that didn't mean I was new to what was about to happen. "I'm not a vir-"

"That's not what I meant, but good to know." Again, a smile briefly danced across his face before it left. He placed one hand on my chest, just above my heart, and studied me intently. "This."

His honesty overwhelmed me as I finally understood his meaning, but I still wanted this. I wanted this night where I abandoned my morals and I knew without a doubt that I wanted it with this contradiction of a man, even if he thought he was going to stain me. "Let me worry about my heart tomorrow, and stop trying to give me reasons to leave."

Gone was the charmer who had been tripping up my heart; in his place was the trouble my body had been drawn to before. A wicked smile covered his face before he dipped his head to kiss me, then moved down my body, leaving a trail of slow kisses as he did.

A sharp huff burst from my chest, and I arched away from the bed when his mouth covered where I was already aching for him. His fingers flexed against my hips, and his soft, teasing licks stopped for a brief second before resuming. And even though I didn't know him, I knew without a doubt that that mischievous smirk I had seen hints of was playing on his face in that moment.

I dropped my head back against the bed and ran my hands over his buzzed hair, silently pleading with him not to stop as something inside me tightened, and my legs began trembling.

Long fingers encircled my wrists, and with a hard yank, he forced my hands down to the bed; pinning them there with his own. A whimper filled the room when he sucked my c.l.i.t into his mouth, and I struggled against his strong hold and fought to get closer to him. I was so close; just a little- His hands released mine the same instant his mouth disappeared.

My eyes flew open and my mouth fell wider. Before I could protest the loss of his mouth on me, his body was hovering over mine, and his head was dipping so he could pull my nipple into his mouth as he hurried to put a condom on.

Within seconds his fingers had replaced his tongue, and a greedy moan slid up my throat-and abruptly ended with a shocked cry when he bit down on my nipple and pinched my c.l.i.t. The pain immediately transformed into body-numbing pleasure as the o.r.g.a.s.m that had been evading me tore through me and he pressed his long length inside me.

It felt as if those few seconds had been spent suspended in air, experiencing a high no guy had ever been able to give me . . . until he began moving inside me.

His movements were rough, but not uncoordinated; hard, but oh, so welcomed. It had never been like this before, and I wondered how I would ever be okay with anything less again. Because this was like being consumed by fire. His mouth, his touch, all of it was building the fire higher and higher until the flames were all I knew.

His mouth met mine gently, teasingly, not matching the way his body screamed power or the fierce way he was moving, but somehow just matching him. One of his arms curled under my back, pulling me closer to him and forming a protective cage around me-I just wasn't sure if he was protecting me from things outside this room, or from himself.

My fingernails dug into his back as I tried desperately to hold on to him when his pace quickened, and a hiss escaped his mouth before his lips spread into that smile again.

"Please."

"What do you want?" his husky voice whispered in my ear.

"More," I begged.

I felt more than heard his laugh. "What was that?"

"Oh G.o.d, more . . ." I said with a moan as he gave me exactly what I asked for.

12.

Present Day.

Aurora.

"This is bulls.h.i.t," Jentry mumbled under his breath the next afternoon as we pulled up to the Veils' large home.

Cars lined the front of their property and the ones surrounding it.

I shook my head even though I agreed with him.

Jentry had shown up to spend time with Declan an hour after I'd left him standing in my closet the night before. The uncomfortable tension that had pa.s.sed between us during those first couple of hours had been nearly unbearable because all I had wanted was to take back my cruel words, but he wouldn't even look at me.

The words had been a lie. I'd known it when I'd said them even though I wanted them to be true.

Because I wanted to regret him. I wanted to regret that night. They had caused so much pain and confusion for me, but how do you regret the night you met the man who can touch your soul? How do you regret him?

I'd kept my mouth shut. This was what Jentry and I did. We said things to hurt each other in order to protect ourselves. He'd called us both out on it weeks and weeks ago, and it was still just as true. But it was better this way. It had to be better this way.

The only reason we'd spoken was because Linda had called to let him know that she'd forgotten to tell him she'd already set a date for his welcome-home party: the next afternoon.

Today.

And since two of my tires happened to have all the air leaked out of them when I'd woken up this morning, something I had no doubt was a warning to stay away from this party, I was getting a ride from Jentry.

He was withdrawn and hardly spoke; frustration radiated from every part of his body.

This strain between us was slowly killing me.

"I can't believe I'm about to say this," I whispered when we pulled into an opening. "Linda's right. You fought for our country; you deserve so many things for that. This party is the only thing anyone can give you. You deserve to be celebrated."

He hooked his arm over the steering wheel and turned his furrowed brow on me. "I didn't do anything so I would be celebrated, Aurora. I don't want this. And I know you don't, either."

"No. I don't." He was right: this party was ridiculous, and the woman planning it was being even worse, all things considered.

It was the most we had said to each other since our talk in my closet, and I would have given anything to just make him keep talking, but those dark eyes and his voice were full of frustration, and I couldn't stand to look at him when I'd been the one who put it there.

I opened the door and stepped out of his car, but didn't look at him while I waited for him.

We fell into step easily. That tension mixed with something that always occupied us, making it hard to stay an appropriate distance from him and to keep my thoughts quiet.

Just before we reached the front door, Jentry gripped my wrist to pull me to a stop.

My heart stuttered and soul ached. One touch and I was ready to crumble under the pain of these last weeks. I knew he'd let it happen and not judge me, because that one touch and the look in his eyes said everything that he wouldn't.

It was tender and full of sorrow. It was possessive and caring.

"If it gets to be too much, we'll go."

"Jentry, it's-"

"If it gets to be too much, we'll go," he repeated, talking over me. "Say the word, Aurora, and we're gone. I swear."

I nodded when his eyes begged for a response, and tried to remember how to catch my breath when he released me.

There were a few people in the entryway who stopped Jentry as soon as we walked in, so I quietly maneuvered away from them and walked toward the living room.

I didn't get there.

Linda hurried from the kitchen when she heard Jentry's name, and slowed when she found me. "Oh, Rorie!" she said loudly with a sweet, fake smile plastered on her face. "Wow, what a surprise. I didn't think you would show today."

I forced my smile to match hers, but it felt like I was grimacing. "Oh, I'm sure you didn't. Someone let the air out of my tires, so I almost didn't come." Letting my voice drop so it wouldn't carry, I said, "It was a valiant effort, but Jentry's car fits five people."

Linda's face fell into a sneer for all of two seconds before that smile was back, bigger than before. "I'm sure I have no idea what you mean, darling girl." She turned suddenly and clapped her hands together. "Oh, but here she is!"

I started to turn to see who it was Linda was talking about, but froze when she spoke again.

"Madeline, let me introduce you to Rorie."

My face fell as I looked back at Linda's smug grin.

That woman had beaten me down too many times to count, but I hadn't expected that. Hadn't dreamed that she would have a plan B in place for this day if the tires didn't stop me.

I looked up when a tall, leggy brunette walked past me and took her place beside Linda, and fought to control my features. Because there she was. Declan's ex, who broke his heart six months before we met, and Miss North Carolina herself-she was even wearing the tiara. The same girl I'd heard about at every recent family dinner, because Linda refused to tell a story about Declan without somehow bringing Madeline into it.

"Oh, Rorie, I've heard so much about you." Madeline made a face like I was an adorable little child, and talked to me the same. "It's so nice to finally meet you, sweetie."

"Nice to meet you, too," I mumbled automatically. It wasn't.

"Did you get it, dear?" Linda asked, and reached for the large frame in Madeline's grip.

My eyes slowly shut and I forced myself to take even breaths, because even though the back of the frame was facing me, I had no doubt what I was about to see when they turned it.

"Ah, yes! One of my favorites of you two."

My eyes opened against my will and narrowed on the picture in front of me. It hadn't been the one I was expecting, the picture from one of Madeline's pageants that Linda liked to show me. This one I'd never seen before, and I probably could've done without it.

Madeline was on Declan's back, his face turned so he could kiss her. It was innocent, and a sweet picture . . . really. You know, if it wasn't my boyfriend with another girl, and if they didn't look so happy.

But I couldn't take my eyes from it. It was like trying to look away from a horrible car wreck when you knew you didn't want to see the specifics of the scene. No matter how hard you tried to turn away from it, your gaze just kept sliding back.

Or maybe it was because the jealousy that should have been in my stomach was absent as I stared at them, and I hoped that if I kept looking, it would appear. But all I felt was the same defeat and anger directed at Declan's mother instead.

"I just hate that it sits back in the hall where hardly anyone ever sees it. It should be out here with the rest of the family pictures. Don't they look great together, Rorie?" Linda asked wistfully.