Chapter Twenty-Nine

Sasha

I glance around my bare apartment.

I managed to give away anything I couldn’t travel with. I flip open my laptop and check my flight itinerary for the fifth time this afternoon, just to be sure nothing’s changed.

In two days, I’ll be flying back home. It was the cheapest flight I could find. Any sooner and I would have been hitting the negatives in my bank account.

What a feeling, to be totally and utterly broke.

I frown as I sit on my bed. The landlord agreed to keep some of the furniture for future tenants who might want the place partially furnished. With everything practically brand new, she couldn’t resist the offer. She gave me a hundred bucks for all of it.

I don’t even want to think about how much I’ve lost. Physically. Emotionally.

What a waste.

My phone rings from the kitchen counter. I jump up and walk over to it, then look at the screen.

Booker.

My heart flutters and my stomach drops, as always. I hate this horrible combination of emotions every time he tries to reach out. My body aches for him while my mind does everything it can to push him from my thoughts. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t had at least five sex dreams about him since the incident. I also miss just talking to him, incident or not.

That’s what I call the whole thing. The incident. Sounds better than “that time I gave it up to a man who wanted to use me for a marketing scheme.”

I let the phone ring until it goes to voicemail. Any voicemails he’s left I’ve simply deleted without listening, in spite of the very real urge to press play. I have to protect myself. Letting Booker in even a tiny fraction will have me losing my resolve, and I can’t have that.

Knock, knock, knock.

Firm knuckles slap my front door, and I jump as I glance over. This situation feels terribly familiar.

“Sasha! I know you’re in there! We need to talk.”

Booker’s voice booms through the thin wood of my door. I stare at it as my hands tremble. My fingers ache to turn the lock and let him in, but I force them to grip the chair I’m sitting in and not move.

Maybe if I stay silent, he’ll leave.

“You think this is going to work again? I heard your cell phone ringing! I know you’re in there!”

Even when he sounds angry, I want to wrap myself around him. That’s why Booker is so dangerous. My body doesn’t understand he’s toxic. Bad news. Must stay away. Must steel my resolve.

“Dammit, Sasha! If you don’t open the door, I will break it down! Stop being so damn stubborn and listen to me for one minute!”

This time, I fly to the door and glare at it as though I’m glaring right into his stupid green eyes.

“So, now you’re threatening to damage my property? Nice, Booker. You’re a real stand-up guy. Fuck off!”

I hear him press against the door, but the movement isn’t forceful. More like he’s pressed his back against the door or something. I’m tempted to look into the peephole, but I don’t want to see him. I can’t bear to see his face again, when I’ve worked so hard to move on.

“Did you read the letter?” he asks.

His voice is softer through the door, but I can hear him as though he’s right next to me. I glance over at my work bag. The unopened letter is tucked away inside.

“I don’t need to. I don’t need to hear your excuses or lies.”

“It’s not a lie. It’s the most truthful thing I’ve ever written. I know you think I’ve used you and betrayed you, but please, just read the note. If you still don’t believe me after that, then I’ll walk away and leave you alone forever. I think that’s a pretty fair deal.”

I hesitate. He’s not wrong. If all I have to do is read his stupid note for him to leave me alone to heal my broken heart in peace, perhaps this is my only option out.

“I read the note, and then you’re gone. That’s the deal?”

“If you want it to be.”

“Great. I’ll be right back.”

He doesn’t respond to that. I leave my post at the door and open my work bag. The envelope has a coffee stain on it but is otherwise untouched. I crack open the seal and slide the note from its pouch, and my fingers tremble once more.

Can I do this?

I don’t have a choice. Booker won’t leave until I do, and it’s my only path to freedom. From him. From this situation. From New York. I have to read this note.

I unfold the lined paper and read Booker’s neat script.

Sasha,

God, what a mess I’ve made. I’ve ruined any chance at happiness with the one woman in the world I could ever imagine being with. I know I come off as a dick in person. I’m not good at expressing myself. I’ve never been good at it. I’ve trained myself to be cold and closed off, and that’s a tough habit to break.

It’s so much easier for me to say what I need to in writing. Being able to do that, with you… it unlocked another side of me. A side I thought I had killed off a long time ago. You did that for me, with your kindness and your warmth and your passion.

I love you, Sasha. I’ll do whatever it takes to earn your forgiveness. What Kieran said was bogus. I had no intention of using our story in any way. Please, whatever it takes, I will do it to be with you. To claim you as my one and only, forever.

I’m sorry. I’ll say it as many times as I need to, just please don’t shut me out over a misunderstanding. We have a shot at something amazing here. Let me give you the best of me. I promise, I won’t let you down.

Booker

The words go blurry as tears fill my eyes.

Stupid, stupid Sasha. Why didn’t you just read the damn letter? All these weeks of crying and ice cream and job hunting and fear and uncertainty. All of it could have been easily resolved if I had only been brave enough to read Booker’s letter.

I set it on the counter and look back at my door.

Time to stop closing love out.

I walk over and twist the lock then slowly pull the portal open. Booker gazes down at me, his eyes searching and intense. He reaches down and brushes a tear from my cheek.

“Well?” he asks. “The decision is yours, but I had to do everything I could to keep you from making a choice under false pretenses.”

“Booker,” I breathe. “Shut up.”

I fall into his arms. They wrap around me in a fierce embrace as I press my cheek against his pounding heart. He strokes my hair as we hold one another, and for the first time since we were last together, I feel whole again.

Booker pulls back and cradles my face in his palms. His gaze explores mine before he dips his head and he captures my lips in a gentle, cherishing caress.

I have missed his kisses more than I can express. I wrap my arms around his shoulders and pull him closer, and his tongue delves in to deepen the kiss. He presses against me and moves us back into my apartment, then he closes the door behind us.

I pull away and look up at him.

“I love you,” I breathe.

His chest rises and falls with the power of his emotions, and I imagine I must look about as crazed as he does. He grins, and my heart melts entirely.

I am all his. I always was. I don’t know why I tried to convince myself otherwise.

“I love you, too. You’re all I’ve thought about.”

I grin up at him, coy. “And what did you think about doing?”

His grin spreads into a wolfish smile. “This,” he replies.

He grabs me again and tugs me to him. He presses my body against the length of his own, and I can feel his erection, strong and hard.

I want to feel him inside me again. I’ve wanted it badly enough it’s haunted my dreams. Booker tugs at the seam of my gray T-shirt and pulls it up and over my head. When he sees I’m not wearing a bra, his hand shoots straight to my bare breast.

“No barrier. Perfect,” he breathes against my lips. He twirls my nipple between his finger and thumb as he kisses me into oblivion. I cling to him for dear life, my body on fire.

He walks me backward until my calves bump against my bed, and we tumble down onto the mattress together. His hand shifts to my other nipple as he kisses his way down my chin and toward my other breast.

When he gets there, he takes my nipple in his mouth while he toys with the other. I arch my chest into the air and cry out, my pussy hot and dripping with desire. His other hand slips down and stokes my slit over my jeans, toying with me.

It’s so much better than I remembered.

With one hand, he’s able to unbutton and unzip my jeans. He lifts his mouth from my breast and slides his tongue down the length of my belly until he reaches my hips. He looks up at me as he tugs my jeans down past my ankles and drops them to the floor.

“I love you,” he breathes, then kisses my inner thigh. He gently pulls my legs apart, but I stop him.

“No,” I whisper. “I want you inside me. Now.”

“As you wish,” he says with a lifted brow. He slides back up my body and unzips his pants, tugging them down and off as his erection springs free. I allow my knees to fall to the sides, spreading myself nice and wide for him.

He presses the tip of his cock against my opening and plants a gentle kiss against my lips.

“Still tight and hot, I see.”

“Only for you,” I breathe.

He presses in slowly, reclaiming me one inch at a time. I adjust my body to take him in as he fills me, body and soul.

“Good,” he whispers against my lips. He presses all the way in until I can feel his balls against my ass. We are one again, as we were always meant to be. I’ve never felt more elated.

“Fuck me, Booker.”

“I’ll do better than that,” he says. “I’ll make love to you.”

He slides back out all the way, leaving me open and gaping before he plunges back in. He does this several times, filling me then leaving, causing that delicious friction that leads to the ultimate pleasure.

“Play with your clit,” he whispers.

My hand shoots down between us. As he fucks me, I circle my clit between my fingers and moan against his mouth.

“That’s good. Play with it until you come,” he says, then kisses me again.

I do, my fingers sliding and gliding as his dick works its magic between my legs. They start to tremble as my orgasm builds.

“Moan for me, Sasha. Nice and loud.”

I moan into his mouth. He shifts and kisses my neck as he plunges in and out of me, and I cry out into my apartment as my pussy tingles, my clit on fire. I scream out his name as with the final thrust, my body pulses around him, and a moment later, he groans as he releases inside my body.

Booker collapses on top of me as we breathe together, our bodies still joined. I hold tight to him, knowing my pain and suffering has come to an end. With Booker, anything is possible.

“It’s good to be back,” he whispers.

“It’s good to have you. Now rest up, because I want to do this at least two more times.”

“Kinky, aren’t you?” he says with a chuckle.

“You’re the one who got me addicted. Now we’ve got to make up for lost time.”

He presses a delicate kiss on the tip of my nose and presses his forehead against mine.

“Gladly, my love. Gladly.”