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She scrunches up her nose. “Fine. Just don’t look at me as I talk.”

I raise my hands up and turn to face the same direction as her, looking out at the mountains.

“It’s just that… as I was—I mean as you were making me—um… come, I realized that I can’t remember the last time Ethan even cared whether or not I came. He would, you know, do his business and then act like I should be grateful he even gave me the time of day. You know, I wanted another baby, and he didn’t really.”

Her admission doesn’t surprise me. Ethan’s made similar comments to me in the past. About how trying for a baby killed the fun—for him. But it doesn’t sound like he talked to Amelia about it.

But it makes the knot I’ve had in my belly the last few days loosen. She didn’t cry because she wished she were having sex with Ethan instead. She cried because it was better than she’d been used to.

“I tried so hard to make it good for him.” An unwelcome image of Amelia’s head between Ethan’s legs makes my hands bunch into fists. “But he never once asked if I was having a good time. And the more I think about it the more I don’t think even he was having a good time. Do you think he left me because I’m bad in bed?”

A harsh laugh escapes me. Though from the way she closes her eyes as if to fight back tears, I know it’s the wrong thing to do.

“No. And you’re not bad in bed.”

“Do you think he makes Charlotte come?” Her voice comes out weak and broken, and she’s still purposely not looking at me.

“I think Charlotte is the kind of person who wouldn’t give him head until he gave her what she wanted. Now, whether that’s good sex or a new car… I don’t know.”

She looks at me now, a small smile on her lips, and it’s all I need to know we’re okay.

I move the donuts and coffees out of the way and move closer to her.

“Amelia,” I whisper in her ear. “Don’t compare yourself to her. It’s really not fair to poor Charlotte.”

She laughs bitterly. “Poor—”

I brush my lips against hers and she stills, swallowing the rest of her sentence with an audible gulp. I take my time. I don’t want to push her into it. I want her to come to me.

Her eyes meet mine, and they shine with so many emotions it’s hard to know what she’s thinking. I breathe her in, dragging my nose against hers, the motion so intimate it sends my belly reeling.

I’m here for her.

Her lips soften. Her head angles and her mouth pushes back against mine.

I kiss her bottom lip, sucking it in lightly and letting my tongue drag against her soft skin. She gasps. I do it again, sucking a little harder.

Her hand wraps behind my neck, her fingers clawing at the back of my head. I lose all self-control.

I open her lips with mine and explore her mouth with my tongue. The feel of her tongue against mine sends a jolt of current coursing through my body.

My cock, which was already at full attention, turns hard as rock, pushing punishingly against the fabric of my jeans. I need to change position or it might break from the stress.

I grab the back of her head and lower her down on the truck bed until she’s lying flat on her back, and I’m partly on top of her.

I don’t let go of her mouth, her taste is an addiction I don’t plan on overcoming. I want more and I don’t want to let go. I keep it slow and steady, just enjoying the feel of her, but I can tell from the way she grabs at me that she’s getting as restless as the blood pumping in my ears.

Amelia

Blake’s kiss is passionate yet controlled. Every time I push to go faster, he slows me down. And he kisses me everywhere. He brushes his lips against my nose, my cheeks, my neck with such tenderness that my belly flutters as my mind reels with questions.

“Blake.”

His hand starts at my neck and caresses down to my breast.

“What…”

I’m interrupted when his mouth finds mine again. I drag my tongue against his, loving his oaky taste, as his hand squeezes my breast.