SOMEWHERE BETWEEN JACKSON STREET and Mondavi Boulevard, it hit me: my entire life I’ve cut my losses. I’ve walked away from people who weren’t worth a goddamn. And I haven’t a single regret.

But those people aren’t Melrose.

And if I walk away from her, if I write her off and throw in the towel … I’m going to regret it.

Maybe she’s in love with her childhood best friend and maybe I don’t stand a chance, but that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t fight for her.

For us.

We belong together.

“You came back.” Melrose clutches my letter in her hand. Our stares hold. “Is this true?”

I bite my lip for a second, trying not to let her smooth, bare shoulders or the thin towel wrapping her curved body invite any distractions.

“Do you love him?” I answer her question with one of my own. “Are you in love with Nick?”

Her glassy eyes crinkle at the sides and her head tilts. “No. No, Sutter. I’m not in love with him.”

I release a breath I didn’t realize I’d been holding.

“I thought I was … but it took meeting you to realize I wasn’t. The way I felt about you meant something different. Something more. It wasn’t the same.”

She sits the letter down, tightens her towel, and paces toward me. Her dusty blue eyes peer up at me through a spray of thick lashes.

“I’m leaving tomorrow morning,” she says.

“I know.”

“Are you sure you want to do this?” she asks. “Now?”

I reach for her face, cupping her soft cheek in my hand and angling her lips toward mine. A moment later, I trace my mouth against hers before stealing a kiss. The taste of mint lingers on her tongue as it darts against mine, and with each breathless second, her body surrenders against me.

I kick the door shut behind us and feel the smile in her kiss.

“Does that answer your question?” I ask, scooping her into my arms and carrying her to the bed.

Melrose lets her towel fall, exposing the curves and angles and smooth lines that make up her delicate body, and I position myself above her, sliding my hand along her left outer thigh as she straddles me from below.

I claim her lips again. And again. And again. Each kiss greedier, less patient. When her hands reach for my fly and yank on the zipper, my cock pulses, aching for her as it grows.

A moment later, she’s shoved my pants and boxers down, and I’ve pulled her tighter against me, my body pinning hers as I devour the bend of her neck, the delicate shelf of her collarbone, and the sensitive trail between her swollen breasts.

Her stomach caves as I take a single, budded nipple between my lips.

I want this.

I want her.

And I want it forever.

Melrose lifts her arms over my shoulder, toying at my hair with her fingertips and exhaling with a moan when I slip my fingers between her folds. She’s so fucking wet for me.

Caught between wanting to enjoy this and needing to take her, needing to bury myself inside of her, I lower myself between her spread thighs, pressing kisses from her lower belly to her apex, where I can taste her addictive desire.

Her legs tremble as my tongue strokes her seam, and her clit swells as I take my time devouring her.

“Sutter ...” My name is a breathy gasp on her lips. “I want you inside me.”

I kiss her inner thighs before rising on my knees and grabbing my wallet from my crumpled jeans. Retrieving a gold foil packet, I tear it open with my teeth before sheathing myself.

Lying on my back, I shove a pillow behind my neck and pull her onto my lap. With a sultry smirk, she lowers herself onto my throbbing cock, torturing me inch by inch, and when I’m buried deep inside her, she releases a held breath and grips my shoulders.

Melrose’s blonde waves curtain her face, but I sweep them over her bare shoulders. I want to see the way she bites her lips as she fucks me, the way her gorgeous blue eyes roll to the back of her head just before she’s about to cum.

“You’re the most perfect thing I’ve ever known in my life,” I tell her, reaching for her face. “I couldn’t let you get away.”

The grind of her hips slows to a stop as she leans forward and kisses me. Once. Twice. Three times.

“I’m going to miss you so damn much,” I whisper, cupping my hand behind her neck as our foreheads meet.

“You’ll visit,” she says. “And we’ll FaceTime. And it’s only two months.”

“It won’t be the same.”

“Stay home today,” she says. Melrose presses her palm against my chest. “This time tomorrow, I’ll be gone.”

“Already planned on it.”

Her full lips arch and her hips begin to circle. I could do this all day, every day, but only with her.

She’s the only woman I’ll ever need.

The only one I’ll ever want.