I kiss her.

I kiss her fiercely. I kiss her with ten years of pent-up anger and need and longing and desperation.

And I know, in that second when my lips touch hers, that I won’t regret one moment of what’s about to happen. Even when it hurts so badly that I think I’ll regret it, wish it had never happened, I won’t.

There’s no hesitation as Evie kisses me back. It’s like she needs this as much as I do.

Her lips part on a moan, the sound vibrating all the way down to my cock, and all hell breaks loose.

Pure primal need to reclaim what is mine slams into me, and I’m helpless against it, helpless against her.

Lifting her, I slam her back against the wall. Her legs come up and wrap around my waist.

And it’s like no time has passed at all. Everything about her is the same—her taste, her scent, how she feels under my hands.

I want more. I want all of her, more than I should allow myself to have. But I have always been a sucker for the kind of pain that Evie provides.

And if I’m not inside her soon, I will actually fucking die.

The feel of her lips moving against mine, her tongue in my mouth…nothing has ever felt so good, so cathartic. It’s like coming home, like waking up from the worst kind of nightmare.

I know this is just a Band-Aid over the bullet hole she put in my chest, but I need it.

I need her.

I couldn’t stop now even if I tried. And I don’t want to. I really don’t.

Evie always has been my drug of choice.

History is pulling me right back in with its steely claws, and I’m more than happy to let it. I’m shackling myself to that motherfucker and letting it lead me straight into hell.

Our mouths are going at it. Lips, teeth, and tongues, the urgency and desperation of it all remind me of the inexperienced teenagers we used to be.

The memory of how amazing it felt to be inside her makes my cock even harder, and I was already as hard as stone.

Reaching over, I turn the lock on the door. Then, I grab the hem of her T-shirt, lifting it. She raises her arms, so I can get it over her head.

She’s wearing a pink lacy bra underneath.

I let out a groan at the sight. Pulling a strap down her shoulder, freeing her tit, I cup it with my hand, and I start kissing her again.

My tongue is deep in her mouth, licking. My hand is squeezing her tit, fingers pinching her nipple.

The moans escaping her, entering my mouth, are making me painfully harder.

I haven’t been this hard since I was last with her.

She’s pressing her hips against mine, trying to find the pressure she needs.

“Adam…I need…”

She doesn’t have to say it. I know exactly what she needs.

I know Evie’s body better than I know my own.

Putting her to her feet, I undo her shorts. She kicks off her flip-flops. I pull her shorts down her legs, taking her panties with them. Then, I drop to my knees before her.

“Adam…”

I glance up at her.

She looks needy and vulnerable. It turns me on like nothing before.

I slide my hand under her thigh, lifting it, and I hook it on my shoulder. Then, I put my mouth on her pussy.

She cries out my name, her hands gripping my hair. The sound drives me crazy. It drives me on.

She tastes exactly the same, feels exactly the same.

Fully aware of how she likes to be touched, I run my tongue up her center and then suck her clit into my mouth as I slip a finger inside her.

Mouth still on her, I look up at her. She’s staring down at me. Her eyes are glazed and filled with wonderment and lust.

Knowing I’m doing this to her, making her feel this way, has me feeling like a king.

She always could lift me up.

I know it’s only a temporary, fleeting feeling, and when it’s over, I’ll come crashing back down, but I’ll take what I can right now. I need this. I need her, more than I realized or wanted to admit to myself.

Closing my eyes, I get back to it, giving her what she needs and taking what I want in return.

I lick and suck her with my mouth and fuck her with my finger.

Moments later, she’s blowing apart against my mouth.

Pulling my finger from her, I run my tongue around her, licking her clean. Then, I suck my finger into my mouth, too.

Her eyes are staring down, watching my every movement.

She looks so fucking perfect. Her body is trembling with aftershocks of her orgasm, the orgasm I gave to her. Half of her bra is hanging down, exposing her perfect tit. Her pussy is glistening and throbbing because of me.

I have a flashback to the first time I made love to her.

She was perfect then.

She’s perfect now.

Evie will always be perfect.

But I know, underneath all that perfection, is a heart of ice.

Tears and words aside, Evie walked out on me without looking back once. And someone with a heart couldn’t do that.

It makes me want to break her. Fuck into her every ounce of pain that she made me feel, the pain I’ve carried with me every single day since she’s been gone, until she feels my pain like it’s her own.

Pushing up, I get to my feet. I need inside her now. And I don’t intend on taking her gently.

I’m going to fuck her hard. I’m going to punish her for leaving me. I want to make it so that all she remembers, all she knows, after I’ve finished with her is me and how good my cock felt inside her.

Loosening my tie with purpose, I remove it, tossing it to the floor. I open the top few buttons on my shirt, then, I reach behind, grab hold of my shirt, and tug it over my head. I let it join my tie on the floor.

I see Evie’s body still, and when I look at her, her eyes are wide and staring straight at my chest.

And I know I’m fucked.

My tattoo. I didn’t even think about it.

“You-you…had a tattoo done?” Her voice shakes.

I never had any tattoos when we were together. But I know that’s not what’s caught her attention or making her voice tremble. It’s what the tattoo says, what it represents.

In scripture, across the center of my chest, right over my heart, are the words,

AND FOR THAT WONDROUS BRIEF MOMENT IN TIME, SHE WAS MINE, AND I WAS HERS.

Directly beneath are the letters E and A, our initials, entwined.

It’s a play on the words we both had inscribed on our wedding rings.

The tattoo wasn’t done out of bitterness. It was done because of loss and pain. I was hurting. I needed something to remind me of her, of us, aside from the physical reminders I have at the beach house. I wanted something of Evie with me all of the time.

I never regretted having it done, not once.

Not until this moment.

Evie seeing it causes all kinds of wounds to open up inside of me.

I feel exposed, vulnerable, like my heart is lying there, bleeding, at her feet.

I steel myself against the agony.

But then she touches me, and I have to fight to stop myself from falling apart.

Her fingertips trace over my ink, over the words that scream my feelings for her.

My heart is racing. Her touch burns. I close my eyes against the pain.

“Adam?”

I open my eyes. Hers are filled with emotion and need.

And my desire for her blows up like a grenade hitting pavement.

I kiss her hard without restraint or reserve.

I need to be inside her.

I rip open my pants and shove them and my boxers down over my hips.

“Are you on birth control?” I ask roughly.

“Yes.”

“I’m clean,” I tell her. “I get regular checks.”

I see a flash of something in her eyes, but it’s gone before I can figure out what it is.

“I’m…clean, too,” she says on a whisper.

I lock eyes with her. I’m fighting against the thought of any other man touching her, fucking her.

I grit my teeth.

I need to mark her as mine again.

My hands go under her thighs. I lift her, her back sliding up the wall, and I slam straight inside her.