Jane took the card from Booth, amazed he still had it. It was smudged and beat up, but she totally recognized it.

She made a face. “My printing was so girly back then.”

The letters were fat and loopy and all the I’s had circles instead of dots. She remembered not liking how long it took for her to write that way, but loving how it looked so much, it didn’t matter. Now, she didn’t give a hoot about what her writing looked like, as long as it was legible. Not that that was important. What was important was that Booth had held on to this card like a treasure. Looking at it brought back all kinds of memories. They’d grown closer during that time together. That he’d shared his anxiety with her made her feel as if they’d turned a corner, that they were more than just two kids dating; they were a real couple.

Folding the card, she held it out and when he reached out to take it, their gazes met. And held. As his fingers brushed hers, she felt a sizzle travel up her arm and through her body. Her breath came a little faster and she felt shaky, as if she’d had too much coffee.

“Jane…” he murmured as he took the card and let it fall. His voice sounded rough, as if his throat were thick with emotion. “You remember that weekend, don’t you? Best weekend of my life.” He took her hand in his, started massaging her palm. “Two and a half days, just you and me. No curfews. No parents. No one we had to account to.”

She nodded, not trusting her own voice.

“We had something. Before I threw it all away, we had something. I think it’s still there.”

He tugged on her hand and leaned forward. He was going to kiss her. She could see it in his eyes and oh, she wanted that. She wanted to feel his warm lips against hers, those strong arms enfolding her, protecting her, loving her. She remembered pressing her ear to his chest and listening to his steady heartbeat as she fell asleep that weekend. She remembered wishing they could fall asleep together every night and wake up together every morning.

But she also remembered how deeply he’d hurt her. Yes, he’d been a kid back then and so she could forgive him for that. She had forgiven him for that. She was evolved enough of a person to accept that people made mistakes, sometimes really huge and horrible ones. But forgiving him didn’t erase her fear that if she gave him her heart again, that he would stomp on it like he had last time. She needed more than a day and a half with him in order to trust him, didn’t she?

But she didn’t pull away. She didn’t stop him, and when his lips finally touched hers, all her doubts fell by the wayside, forgotten. It felt as if her body recognized his. It felt right, like when you’d been on a long, long trip and finally got to lay on your own bed.

He kept the kiss light and easy, giving her the freedom to end it if she wanted, but she didn’t want to. She wanted to keep kissing him forever.

“Janie, oh, God, Janie, I missed you so much.”

His words seemed to echo inside her head as he deepened the kiss and warm desire blossomed in her belly to spread deliciously through every nerve until she felt like she was vibrating. She wondered how far she could let this go. She’d halfway hoped she could limit herself to one steamy kiss just to take the edge off, but already she knew that was impossible. It felt too good.

They both rose up on their knees and Booth wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer just as she wrapped her arms around his neck. She couldn’t have escaped if she’d wanted to. His arm was like an iron band. Their bodies pressed together and she felt his cock hard against her stomach. He was kissing her face, her neck, her shoulder and she couldn’t seem to get enough air. Part of her wondered if it was possible to suffocate in a tent. If it was, she was damned well not going to waste this chance to find out if sex with Booth was as good in person as it was in her memory. He had to have learned something in eleven years, right?

They broke apart. Booth’s eyes were dark with passion. His broad chest expanded and contracted and she saw him swallow hard.

“I want to see you naked, Janie. I want that so bad I’m shaking.”

Again, she felt engulfed with longing. She wanted to see him naked too. She wanted to feel his bare skin against hers, run her hands over his arms and shoulders, his muscled back, his hard butt.

Knowing she was pretty much a goner now, she grasped the edge of the T-shirt he’d given her and pulled it over her head and dropped it. His eyes widened as he took in the sight of her breasts. As long moments passed, he did nothing but look at her. His hot gaze made her skin tingle. Her nipples tightened to painful points. At this moment, she wanted nothing more than to feel his hands on her, or better yet his mouth, his tongue, his teeth.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured as she took off her shorts and panties. “So, so beautiful. It hurts to look at you.”

It was crazy, but his voice was so rough and full of sincerity, she felt like crying. She closed her eyes to hold back the unwanted tears as he gently bore her to the ground.

Outside the rain continued to patter against the canvas. It created a cocoon of privacy, making it feel as if there was nothing else in the world except the two of them. She heard a rustling, felt a whisper of movement and opened her eyes to see Booth naked from the waist up. Lord, he was magnificent. His chest and abdomen a masterpiece of skin and muscle, all dusted with hair that she longed to feel against her body. He’d come a long way from the wiry kid she’d gone to bed with back in high school. Booth was a full grown man now.

He leaned down and brushed his lips against her nipple. The pleasure was intense but fleeting and she inhaled sharply. He did it again, back and forth, the contact almost as soft as his warm breath. She took his head in her hands and gave it a tug, wanting more, needing more, but he wouldn’t give in, the bastard. She was making mewling noises in her throat and arching her back when he finally gave in and closed his lips against one aching tip. The resulting rush of pleasure made her moan and dig her fingers into his scalp. He suckled on her and each pull of his mouth made the core of her pulse with need.

He turned his attention to her other breast and gave it the same treatment and when he finally raised his head, her skin was wet and shiny, the nipples red and swollen.

She reached out and touched the prominent ridge of his cock, visible through the shorts he was wearing. He let his head fall back as she ran her fingers up and down the length. It was so hot and so hard. Growing bolder, she sat up and cupped him, squeezed him and when a small dark spot appeared in the fabric, she smiled, glad to be giving him a bit of torture in exchange.

“Take it out,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Please, Janie, put your hands on me.”

He sounded desperate.

She liked that.

Curling the fingers of both hands over the elastic waistband on either side of his hips, she pulled until his cock was freed. Her nostrils were filled with the spicy scent of him.

“I haven’t laid eyes on this in a long time,” she said with a small laugh as she lightly ran her fingers along the shaft.

He panted as she continued to tease him with barely-there strokes and when she cupped and caressed his balls, he let out a tormented sound. After only a few moments, he pulled away and stood, shoved his shorts down and kicked them off. A moment later he was on top of her, kissing her again. Their tongues slid against each other as he plundered her mouth and slid his hand down her stomach, pushing his fingers through her curls and between her thighs. She moaned as he grazed her clit.

“You’re so wet,” he said against her lips before he took her mouth again.

It was true. She could feel how easily his blunt fingers slipped in and around her folds. Then he pressed a finger inside her and she arched. It felt good when he thrust it in and out, but she wanted more of him.

“Booth, please tell me you have a condom.”

He froze. “Shit.”

She wanted to cry, so sharp was her disappointment, but then he laughed.

“Gotcha.”

Disappointment turned to disbelief. “You asshole!” she said, socking him in the arm.

He laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He unzipped a pocket in an enormous backpack and pulled out a small handful of square packets.

“I have half a mind to get dressed and leave,” she said, with absolutely no intention of doing so.

“Liar,” he said, cupping her breast and rubbing the nipple with soft strokes of his thumb. “You want it as bad as I do.”

“Worse,” she admitted. The foreplay just now was better than all the sex she’d had with Dylan put together, and it wasn’t even over. Booth kissed his way down her stomach, pausing at her navel, tickling it with his tongue and making her giggle despite the fact that it seemed like he was going all the way south.

“Are you going to…?” She couldn’t seem to say the words.

“Go down on you? That’s the plan.” He spread her legs wider and ran his hands up and down her inner thighs. Maintaining eye contact, he kissed the inside of her knee and she shivered.

“We never did that to each other,” she said.

“I know. I’m glad after today I’ll get to cross that off my bucket list.”

“Liar. This is not on your bucket list,” she said.

He nuzzled her damp curls and her breath started coming faster. “Yes it is. It’s the number one item.”

“I don’t believe you. Winning the Stanley Cup is number one.”

His eyebrows rose. “All right, I’ll cop to that. You won’t hold it against me, will you? There isn’t an NHL player alive who doesn’t have that at the top of his list.”

“I won’t if you get busy within the next five seconds.”

He grinned at her.