The Moment of Letting Go

“I was just thinking about it,” she says. “I was wondering … Are there many girls who do this stuff?”


Interesting. Is she asking in general? Or is she hinting around at something? Because if she is, I know damn well it’s not because she’s thinking of trying it herself.

“Some girls do,” I say. “I’ve known quite a few. Dated one for a short time. But the majority of BASE jumpers are guys.”

I wrap my arms around her and pull her close. I love the smell of her hair, her soft skin pressed against mine. I’m getting hard again.

“Are you a very experienced jumper?” I feel her body tense.

“Yeah,” I say. “I’ve got a lot of experience, have done a lot of jumps. And I’m not one of the reckless ones. Crazy assholes go out there with little training, thinking, ‘Hey, I can do this shit. I’m not scared of anything,’ and then their family is making funeral arrangements the next day. I’m very careful. In fact, I’m pretty anal about safety. I always checked Landon’s pack …” My voice grows distant again.





Sienna


I turn around and sit right in front of him, taking more notice of the tiny streaks and flecks of blue and green and yellow paint on one side of his neck and on his chest muscles.

“Hey,” I say, reaching out my hand and touching the side of his face, “don’t do that.” I brush my fingers softly against his skin, just above the stubble, rubbing away a fleck of paint. “No blaming yourself, all right? Do you think I’m a stupid person?”

He blinks back the confusion.

“Umm, definitely not,” he says.

I smile and brush the pad of my thumb over his lips.

“Then believe me when I tell you that his death wasn’t your fault. Take my word for it because I know what I’m talking about.” I lean in and kiss his lips.

Luke smiles faintly and hooks both of his hands about my hips.

“You’re an amazing girl,” he says. “Everything about you makes me want to be a different person. To be the person I used to be.”

I kiss him again.

“But I like the person you are,” I whisper onto his lips.

His hands move from my hips to my butt. The tip of his tongue traces a path along my bottom lip.

“How are you even real?” His fingers press into my flesh, pulling me closer to his naked lap.

“What do you mean?” I kiss him again.

My legs straddle his lap, his hardness palpable between us, his arms wrapped around my back.

“You’re just unlike anyone I’ve ever met,” he says breathlessly between kisses. “You didn’t freak out on me last night before you left—it made me feel even worse. You didn’t hold a grudge against me about that roach.”

I pull away, grinning into his eyes. “What makes you think I’m not holding a grudge about that?”

He arcs a brow. “Are you?”

“Maybe,” I taunt him. “You could’ve flicked it off me a lot sooner.”

He squeezes his arms around me tightly and buries his face in my throat.

“So what are you gonna do to get me back?” His tongue moves along my collarbone and then his mouth finds my neck.

My chest begins to rise and fall more rapidly, my skin breaking out all over in chills.

“I don’t know yet,” I say with my eyes shut halfway. “But pay-backs are a bitch.”

“Is that right?” His hands squeeze my butt and pull me hard against him. I gasp lightly. “Well, how about this,” he says against my ear. “I can make it up to you and you can promise to drop your little vendetta. I don’t like always having to look over my shoulder.” He sucks on my neck and then my earlobe.

I ache with need.

With my arms draped around his neck, I whisper back, “I don’t know. Maybe. It depends on what you plan to do to make it up to me.”

Suddenly he hoists me off his lap and puts me on my back across his mattress. My eyes grow a little wider, my heart is pounding fervently behind my ribs. I look up at Luke, sitting at my feet, and his hands slide between my thighs, parting my legs before him.

J. A. Redmerski's books