We were naked on Jack’s queen-size bed. The two of us. Alone in the world. Our chests pressed together, and his tongue darted inside my mouth. He brushed a hand through my hair and pulled his mouth away from mine. “You’re not just a number to me, Kemp.”
“A number?” I whispered. “What do you mean by that? I don’t understand.”
“Another guy I’ll mess around with. You mean more than that to me. You always will. Believe me.”
His fingertips brushed against my soft and smooth lips. Our breaths caught together, released. Again, he ran one of his hands through my hair. “I have you right where I want you. Close to my heart. Close to my soul. I won’t let you go. No reason for you to go.”
“But…”
“There are no buts.”
There were, though. There always would be. I had my life in Pittsburgh. I had my
