Jenny plucks at my sleeve. “Are you wearing a jacket? Oh my god. Such an occasion. If I knew, I’d have brought you a card.”
Growling, I tug her closer, burying my face in the crook of her neck as she laughs, and already I’m hard in my jeans. Aching for her.
“You got a letter today.”
I grunt. Probably more junk mail. “Lucky me.”
“It looked like work. There was a travel magazine logo on the envelope.”
I go still, heart thumping. We haven’t talked about my work yet. Haven’t talked about the future. I keep wanting to broach the subject, but each time I try, it’s like Jenny shuts down and then I chicken out.
Jesus. Maybe I’m the one who needs to grow some courage.
“I’m not going anywhere.” My voice is gruff. I sound like such a caveman, but I don’t care. We agreed: she’s mine. I won’t be parted from her, not unless she sends me away.
“It was a big magazine.” Her voice is soft. “A super famous one. It could be a great opportunity.”
“I don’t care.”
Jenny huffs, and she’s rigid now. Stiff as a board where she sits between my thighs. “I know you finished that city series, Lincoln. I’m not an idiot. What are you gonna do, take photos of the inside of our apartment forever?”
“No.”
Jenny waits, but I don’t have more of a rebuttal. All I know is I’m not leaving her. “Maybe I’ll take photos of dogs in human clothes.”
Her elbow digs into my ribs. “Lincoln. That’s not funny.”
My eyes burn as I glare up at the stars, and it’s probably because I haven’t blinked for the last three minutes. My stomach’s lurching, and my chest is raw. I can’t do it. I can’t leave her behind, not for anything.
“What are you saying, Jenny?”
She grips my wrist tight, squeezing with those slender fingers. Some of them are rough, callused with needle pricks from her sewing.
“I was thinking… maybe I could go with you.”
Uh.
What?
I turn my head, like I might hear her better. As if I could hear anything over the blood pounding in my ears.
“Say that again,” I rasp.
“I could go with you. I’ve been working on my own designs, making sewing patterns to sell online, and I can do that from anywhere—”
I don’t even realize I’m crushing her until she lets out a squeak.
“Sorry! Sorry. Shit, do you mean that?” My hands slip under her sweater, roaming over the bare skin of her stomach, hungry and possessive. Can’t help myself. “Do you mean it, Jenny? You want to see the world with me?”
When she nods, her hair tickles my nose. “Yes. Um. If you’ll have me.”
If I’ll have her? Fuck.
The button on her jeans pops open easily. The zipper crunches as it drags down.
“You going to let me in here, sweetheart?” My words are hot against the back of her neck, my breath stirring her hair. Jenny shivers, clutching at my arm as I stroke a single fingertip over the bared strip of her panties. “I’ve been dying for a touch. For a taste. God, Jenny, I need—need to feel you on my cock. You’re coming with me, and you’re mine.”
I’ve got no business talking to her like this, but I’ve lost my mind. The instincts are finally winning, taking over my body and words and brain.