Keep This Promise

by Willow Winters

  Horrible understanding made me relax against him. Oh, Jamie. “It was self-destruction.”

  He flinched and looked down at where we touched. “I don’t deserve you …” His eyes returned to mine, tears shining in them. “But from the moment I saw you again, I wanted the past seven years to have been a nightmare that I could wake up from.” He stumbled back, scrubbing his hand over his face. “Tell me to leave, Jane. Tell me to get the fuck out of your life because I can’t let go of what they did to me. I can’t move on, and you deserve the chance to move on.”

  I couldn’t.

  Whether it was right or wrong, I still wanted justice too.

  But more than that, I wanted him.

  I loved him.

  Why couldn’t I stop loving him?

  “Jamie.” I took a step toward him. “I can’t tell you to leave. I want you to stay, but if you do, we’re a team. You respect me, and I respect you. The first time you insult me or try to make me feel less than I am, I will walk away for good.”

  “A second chance?” His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths.

  I nodded, my heart beating hard. “If we don’t at least try, then those bastards really did win, didn’t they?”

  Suddenly, I was in Jamie’s arms and he was kissing me like I was oxygen. The familiar taste of him, the hungry emotion in his kiss, flicked a switch in me. Everything else, all the worries, all the forgiveness that would be a daily endeavor to overcome, were gone. It was just me and Jamie. As if the last seven years had never happened.

  His growl of need vibrated down my throat, tugging deep in my belly. We stumbled against the wall as Jamie gripped the back of my neck with one hand and slid the other down my stomach. His fingers hooked inside the waistband of my jeans, yanking me into his body.

  I kissed him harder and clung to him, my fingers digging into his back as I lifted my leg, my thigh pressed to his hip as I undulated against the hard heat of him. He bent his knees and then rolled his hips up into mine so his erection nudged between my legs. My lips parted on a whimper of lust and seven years of need.

  Yes, we’d had sex already.

  But this was different.

  Before, it was an angry submission to passion.

  Now … now we could be Jamie and Jane again.

  Jamie’s hand tightened around my neck, and he groaned. I felt my breasts swell, my nipples hardening into tight, needy points. Desire built low in my womb as I moved against him. God, it was like when we were teenagers.

  His kisses grew more demanding, long, dizzying kisses, each one seeming to make up for years of missing my lips. We were panting and pulling at each other’s mouths like we couldn’t get deep enough.

  I slid my hands up his back and over his shoulders, my fingers sinking into his hair as I silently begged for more, for harder, for deeper, for everything.

  From him.

  Jamie.

  Was this really happening?

  Needing him to touch me, I took his hand off the waistband of my jeans and pressed it to my breast. His kiss turned almost savage as he crushed me deeper against the wall and squeezed. I gasped into his kiss as his thumb swiped across my nipple. I needed to be naked. I needed to feel him everywhere.

  Jamie broke the kiss, but only to haul me into his arms. I held on and wrapped my legs around his waist as he walked us toward my bedroom. “I love you, Doe.” His expression was harsh with emotion.

  I brushed my thumb over his mouth, melting into him. My heart raced. The moment felt so surreal. “I love you, Jamie. I never stopped.”

  His eyes flashed with satisfaction as he kissed me on our descent to the bed. I expected it to be fast, hurried and explosive. Instead, he slowly undressed me until I was naked and shivering with need on the bed. I watched as Jamie stood over me, hungry eyes taking in every detail of my body as he removed his clothes. He was even more beautiful than I remembered. Lean but strong, defined abs and V-cut obliques that made my mouth water. An ache flared across my chest at the sight of the small white scar on the right side of his upper belly.

  I caressed it, remembering the fear that accompanied the memory.

  I met his gaze and saw the love in his moody ocean eyes, and everything within me tightened with anticipation.

  His eyes darkened and my hips rose slightly off the bed.

  He knew.

  Jamie knew how much being loved by him turned me on.

  He put a knee on the bed, his erection thick, throbbing, and proud as he straddled me. I whispered his name. He was quiet. When we were younger, Jamie would tell me everything he wanted to do to me, or how what he was doing to me made him feel. But this moment was too big for words.

  I understood.

  His fingertips trailed over the tops of my thighs as he hovered above me and bent to brush his lips over mine. I clung to his waist, loving the feel of his sleek, hard, warm strength, and I captured his mouth again before he could retreat.

  I poured everything I felt into that kiss. I love you, I love you, I love you. Jamie clasped my face in his hand as he sunk into it, our tongues dancing together in the deepest kiss of my life. I felt tears burn in my throat but fought to keep them at bay as his lips reluctantly left mine to kiss a trail down my throat.

  I loved the scratch of his stubble on my skin.

  It was still new, reminding me this wasn’t seven years ago, and what was happening between us was more poignant for it.

  Jamie pressed soft kisses down my chest and took his time kissing and caressing my breasts. He spent so much time laving and licking and sucking my nipples that I writhed beneath him, on the verge of coming. My skin was on fire, my heart thundering in my chest, the tension coiled deep in my belly.

  “Jamie,” I gasped as he suckled my nipple until it was unbearably sensitive. “I’m going to come.”

  He lifted his head, his eyes blazing. “Not yet.”

  His lips left my breasts only to kiss a path down my stomach. He licked at my belly button and I shifted my hips impatiently. I wanted him to reach the destination already.

  The sound of his soft laughter, his breath hot on my skin, caused a pang of sweet happiness. I grinned at the sound, my fingers shifting through his thick, silky hair as he glanced up my body to share a smile.

  “I love you,” I whispered.

  Jamie’s eyes brightened. “I love you more.”

  “So competitive,” I teased.

  He chuckled and then kissed me just above my sex, his eyes on me.

  My breath caught as his lips skirted where I wanted them to go. He raised my left thigh off the bed and started at my knee. His kisses were wet, savoring, hungry, as his mouth made its way up my inner thigh. His stubble scratched and tickled, adding a whole new layer of sensation to the experience. When he licked the crease between my thigh and sex, my hips lifted off the bed with a startled gasp.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he said reverently, his breath puffing against me.

  “Please.” I slid my fingers in his hair, staring down at him in torment. “Please.”

  His mouth came down on me.

  I whimpered, throwing my head back, hands fisting the sheets at my sides as I let my legs fall open to him. He flicked my clit in a tease, circling it, tormenting me. Then something took him over. Jamie’s hands gripped tight to my thighs as his mouth devoured.

  I could feel my climax teetering on the edge, the muscles in my thighs trembling and tightening.

  Then his fingers entered the playing field.

  I gasped, moaning in growing need as he pushed me further toward orgasm.

  It didn’t take long. I stiffened and exploded, crying out his name as my inner muscles clamped around his fingers.

  But he didn’t stop.

  Jamie kept sucking, licking me, groaning and growling like a starving man, until I was coming again. “Jamie!” I screamed his name in disbelief as another orgasm shuddered through me.

  Then he was over me, his mouth on mine, his tongue licking at my tongue, unt
il I could taste us both.

  He broke the kiss, his expression pained. “Condom,” he panted.

  “I’m on the pill.” I was frantic. I didn’t want to wait. I could feel him hard and throbbing against my wet, and I wanted him.

  Jamie looked in agony as he shook his head. “I haven’t been checked in six months.”

  It was a cold, hard splash of reality.

  Jamie had slept with another woman, perhaps several, in the last six months.

  It cooled my skin.

  “No, no.” Jamie rested more of his weight into me as he stared into my eyes. “Don’t think about it. Don’t pull away. No one has ever meant anything to me but you … and as much as I want to come inside you, I love you too much. I’m not going bare until I’ve been checked.”

  I nodded, my emotions swinging from left to right. This was my Jamie in my arms. The Jamie who protected me from everything, even himself. Still, “I don’t have any condoms.”

  He lowered his forehead to my chest and took a deep, shaky breath. “Give me a second.” Then he jumped off the bed and hurried out of the bedroom.

  I raised myself onto my elbows as I listened to my front door open. Then I heard the distant sound of his apartment door opening and slamming a few seconds later.

  Then my door banged shut.

  Jamie marched into the bedroom, and I swear I had a mini orgasm at the sight of him rolling a condom onto his hard length.

  “God, you’re unfairly hot,” I groaned, flopping back against the bed, my legs parting naturally for him.

  “You’re one to talk.” He threw himself on me, and I laughed.

  My laughter petered out into gasps, however, as he claimed my body with more kisses.

  “Wrap your legs around me,” he demanded gruffly against my lips.

  I did as he asked, feeling him nudge between my legs. “Jamie.” I sighed needfully.

  Then he was there, pushing gently inside.

  Our eyes locked as his thickness filled me, our soft pants falling against each other’s lips as he moved deeper and deeper.

  Under my skin.

  Forever.

  “No one but you,” he promised, emotion making his eyes bright. “I missed you every day, Doe.”

  “Me too,” I confessed. Nothing was right in this world if I wasn’t connected with Jamie McKenna. Caressing his back, I moved my fingertips around to his abs and down, my touch making his hips falter. His breathing hitched as my fingers moved across his sensitive skin and through the crinkle of hair to where we were joined. I wanted to feel our connection.

  “Oh, fuck.” He bowed his head in pleasure as I felt him move in and out of me.

  Reaching between us, he took my hand and pressed my fingers to my clit. He guided my fingers, bracing himself with one hand as he glided, slow and deep. He looked up from watching us touch me, and held my eyes as he made love to me. He pulled back, sliding out, but only so he could brace himself on his knees. Grabbing my hips in his big hands, he tilted them and drove back in at an angle, hitting me in a place that sent me to the stars.

  “Jamie!” I cried out as he continued to move slow and easy, but each glide forcing a deeper penetration against the coiling tension inside. I trembled against him as he took pleasure in taking his time. Jamie was savoring this. Savoring us.

  What made it sexier was my need to move against him and my inability to do so because he was holding my hips captive. With one more thick push in and slow drag out, I broke.

  My hips stiffened for a beat and then I quivered, my inner muscles rippling in deep, tugging throbs around him.

  “Jane.” His grip loosened and he fell over me, bracing his hands at either side of my head as I came around him. He thrust into the sensation, fast, hard drives, guttural sounds of pleasure falling from his lips seconds before he tensed.

  Then his hips stilled.

  “Jane,” he growled. I felt the pulsing waves of his release as he jerked and shuddered … and shuddered some more.

  “Fuck.” Jamie breathed, falling against me. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He rolled onto his back so he wouldn’t crush me, his chest rising and falling in shallow pants. “What the fuck was that?”

  My heart raced as I tried to calm.

  Our skin was dewy, slick with sweat, as I turned my head to look at him.

  I found him staring at me in awe.

  I smiled.

  “That happened, right?” His deep voice coiled around my heart. “That was the best sex of our lives, right? Of anyone’s life.”

  Grinning, I felt giddy and scared and euphoric and worried all at once.

  Jamie rolled onto his side and pulled me onto mine so he could tangle our legs together, so he could feel my breasts against his chest. “I love you.” He kissed me, intense, a little frantic. “You’re here. We’re here. And you’ll never leave me again. Promise you’ll never leave me again.”

  Just like that, anger bloomed in my gut.

  Quick. Fiery. And dispelling the mood like a bomb.

  I wrenched away from him. “Jamie McKenna, if we’re going to make this work, you have to stop. Stop acting like I left you. You broke up with me. Remember? I still have the goddamn letter.”

  Jamie’s brows furrowed. “What fucking letter?”

  Chapter 28

  JANE

  * * *

  “What fucking letter, Jane?” Jamie repeated, sitting up.

  My pulse raced as an ominous feeling settled over me at the sight of his genuine confusion. I pushed up to sit beside him. “The letter Lorna gave me. The letter you wrote.”

  “When?” he demanded.

  “A few days after I visited you. Six years ago.” I made to move out of bed, and Jamie grabbed my wrist. “I’m getting the letter.”

  He released me, but his breathing was shallow, agitated.

  So was mine.

  I yanked his T-shirt up off the floor and pulled it on before I hurried to my closet. Hauling over my artist’s stool so I could reach the top shelf, I pushed shoeboxes aside to find the one with my keepsakes. Taking it down and over to the bed, I threw off the lid, desperate to find the letter. The box was filled with old photos of me and the McKennas, even a few with Willa, Nick, Tarin, and Flo, though I rarely ever saw them now.

  Shoving aside trinkets and ticket stubs, I found the letter buried at the bottom. My hands shook as I unfolded it. Looking at Jamie, I saw him studying the paper with a wrinkle between his brow.

  I held it out to him.

  He took it.

  I still remembered every word.

  I blame you. I know it all wasn’t your fault but some of it was. I will always love you but I also think things might have been better if you’d never been a part of our lives. That way I couldn’t miss what I’d had with you and hate you for how it all turned out. You being around just complicates things. I don’t need you in my life anymore. There’s just too much bad shit between us. I don’t want to see you anymore, and I don’t want you to visit. Don’t try to call either. Just … don’t.

  Jamie scanned it, his fingers biting so hard into the paper, it crumpled. His chest heaved, like he couldn’t get enough air. He threw himself off the bed, running a shaky hand through his hair as he looked over at me. “Where and when did you get this?”

  For me, that moment was like yesterday. “You’d been in prison for about a year. Things were getting more strained between us with every visit. My last visit—not the one running up to your parole, but the one six years ago—you were caustic about Devin. Do you remember?”

  “I remember it, Jane. I remember every second because it was the last time I saw you until you came to visit me two years ago.”

  “That’s why.” I pointed to the letter. “Lorna came to see me just a few days after that visit. She was in LA to see you and catch up with some friends.”

  He nodded. “I remember.”

  “She gave me that letter and said you asked her to pass it along. That you didn’t want to see me again. She
told me I was to blame for everything and that I was to stay away.” Tears streamed down my cheeks as his reaction awoke dark suspicion. “It’s your handwriting, Jamie.”

  “From when I was fifteen!” he roared and spun, planting his fist through my floor-standing mirror.

  I yelled his name as it shattered, pieces falling at his feet.

  “Oh my God, Jamie.” I rushed forward, trying to avoid the shards littering my floor.

  There was blood on his knuckles. Taking hold of his wrist, I led him away from the glass, my heart thundering as I guided him into the bathroom. He was seething and silent, and my mind reeled as I tried to focus on cleaning up his knuckles with my first aid kit.

  “I don’t think you need stitches,” I whispered, fighting back tears.

  When I met his gaze, I saw he was holding back tears too. “How could she do that to us?”

  Then it was like he couldn’t bear his own weight. He slumped into me, falling to his knees as he wrapped his arms around my waist. His hands fisted in his T-shirt I’d thrown on, and he burrowed into me, desperate, as if he couldn’t get close enough. I could feel him shaking.

  I tried to be strong, but I couldn’t hold back tears as the realization of Lorna’s duplicity cut us both to the quick.

  I didn’t understand the full plot yet, but I got the general gist of it.

  And it was heartbreakingly tragic.

  Soon I was on the bathroom floor with him, our backs pressed to the tub, my head resting on his shoulder as we gripped tight to each other’s hands. I don’t know how long we sat there before Jamie finally spoke.

  “I wrote that letter to my dad when I was fifteen, and I never sent it. He’d started coming around again after Mom died. There was a part of me that wanted him around because he was good with me. But he was an absolute bastard to Lorna. Treated her like shit. Hurt her so much that it hurt me too.

  “It made me suspect that Lor wasn’t his. We all had Mom’s eyes, but Skye and I looked so much like our dad, and Lor didn’t. When I was younger, I never even thought that Lorna knew what I suspected, but when I got out of prison, I went to live in Boston for a while to be close to her. She works for a law firm there now. And she told me then that when she was ten, she overheard an argument between our parents. She wasn’t Dad’s. Mom had cheated. Lorna reached out to him when she was in college, asked him to do a DNA test so she could know once and for all.