Jade reached into the box then sat next to him, holding a small stack of old photos. She handed him the one on top. It was a black and white portrait. The woman in them had coiffed and perfectly styled hair. Other than the grim set of her lips, she looked nearly identical in the face to the woman sitting next to him.
“It’s eerie, isn’t it?”
Tearing his eyes from the photo, Reed glanced at her. She was leaning over his shoulder, her cheek very close to his. He could smell the sweet scent of her. He wondered if she still tasted like cotton candy.
“It’s pretty amazing,” he said.
She looked up from the photo and their eyes met. There was a twinkle in her eyes. His gaze drifted down as she licked her bottom lip. His body stiffened. He so badly wanted to nip at that lip with his teeth. Was she doing it on purpose?
As if sensing his thoughts, she broke the spell and reached for the photo. Her fingers brushed his and lingered. When he moved, he moved fast. Gripping her hand, he pulled her to him. His lips crushed down over hers. It took him by surprise when she met his fervor by running her fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck and pulled him closer.
A growl escaped his throat and his tongue darted into her mouth. Just as he’d remembered. So sweet.
When she leaned back into the couch, pulling him with her, he followed, his lips never leaving hers. He couldn’t get enough of her. One hand cupped the line of her jaw as the other ran up the side of her hip, caressing the curves of her body. He slipped under the hem of her shirt and cupped her breast. Her back arched into his touch. Wanting to taste every inch of her, his lips trailed down her neck, licking and nipping her skin. The way she took in short gasps of breath, then sighed with sounds of pleasure, made his blood run hot and he felt desperate for her. His lips met hers again and his hips pressed against her.
Then suddenly she pulled back and pressed her hands to his chest. “We can’t, Reed.”
Confused, he looked into her eyes. “What’s wrong?”
Shaking her head, she shoved back and sat up, pulling her legs up under her. “It’s just…” Her voice trailed off.
He sat back on the couch. “It’s what? Don’t say it’s not right, Jade, because I don’t believe you think that for a minute. Not after the reaction you just gave me. So what is it?”
She’d been avoiding his gaze, then she finally looked up. “There’s someone else.”
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Michelle Bellon lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their four children. She drinks ungodly amounts of coffee and has an addiction to chapstick.
She works at a surgery center as a registered nurse and in her spare time writes novels. She writes in the genres of romance suspense, young adult, women’s fiction, and literary fiction. She has won three literary awards.