“Jamie . . .”

“Shh. This is what will please me most. This is what I need. Say yes.”

What else could she do? “Yes,” she answered, a small smile on her face, her cheeks going warm. Her body going warm.

He pulled her tank top over her head and she was glad she’d tucked her bra into her purse rather than putting it on after her shower. It felt so good to be naked with him, with the man she loved, in the soft, sultry New Orleans air. He laid her back on the bed, then undressed slowly, his gaze on her face as he undid his belt, then his jeans, opening the fly just enough that she got a hint of his beautiful skin, his beautiful cock, underneath. He kicked off his big black boots, then pulled his T-shirt over his head. And in some way it was as if she’d never seen his bare torso before—he was so perfectly made she gasped, her sex clenching as she looked from his gorgeously pierced nipples to the tattooed script running up his right side. She wanted to run her tongue over the tattoo, to find the small areas where the skin was still raised with ink. She wanted to take his nipple rings into her mouth, to work them until his nipples were as hard as his cock. She wanted to trace every sleek rise and angle of his tight abs with her tongue. But for now she would focus on what he wanted to do to her. Gladly. Deliriously.

He slid the jeans down over his leanly-muscled thighs, exposing all of his golden skin, and she had to grab handfuls of the bedding beneath her to keep from reaching out to touch him. She’d never seen a more beautiful example of the male form in her life—he was pure art. Pure sex. Pure love.

Hers.

“Jamie?”

“What is it, love?” he asked as he knelt at the foot of the bed.

“I’m yours.”

“Oh, yes, you are. All mine.”

“And you are mine.”

He smoothed his hands over her calves. “Sweetheart, I am as much yours as you are mine. I have been from the start. You have my heart, which means you have all of me.” He bent and laid a sweet kiss on her ankle. “Don’t you know that, Summer Grace?”

“Yes. Just checking. No, not checking. I just wanted to hear you say it.”

“In that case you can ask anytime.”

“You’re pretty wonderful, you know that?”

His features sobered. “I didn’t, until you.”

Her smile faded for a moment. “Neither did I.”

“We need each other.”

“Yeah. We do.”

Her smile came back as he lowered his head, stretching up to kiss her lips before sliding down and down, until his lovely, sweet mouth was between her thighs. He kissed her there, too, then started in with his tongue, hitting all the right spots, taking her higher and higher. When her body tensed with her oncoming climax she expected him to halt her, to make her wait. But he only dove deeper, his fingers thrusting inside her, his hot, wet mouth sucking her flesh until she came, crying his name. But he didn’t stop, and soon pleasure crested again, and she was coming and coming. She had no idea whether it was a new climax or more of the first—there hadn’t been any time for her to separate them. Didn’t matter. It was her Jamie, bringing her pleasure, making her fly. Flying for the first time with nothing but pleasure and love, no pain. She didn’t need it right now. All she needed was him.

He took one moment to glance up at her, a sensual smile on his damp lips, then he was on her again, making her squirm. And this time it did hurt a little, she was so sensitive. But in moments she was coming again, and this time she screamed his name, her throat raw.

When she was certain she couldn’t take any more, he rose above her, guiding her to wrap her legs around him. Poised at the entrance to her body, he gazed down at her.

“Do you know what it does to me to bring you pleasure? How it fills me up? And fuck, Summer Grace . . .” He swallowed, and the expression on his face made her heart swell. “I want to do everything for you. And to you. And for us. I want to be inside you so badly it hurts. But I had to tell you how much I love you. How much I love your beautiful body. Your strength. Even the parts of you that are almost as fucked up as I am. Seriously. Maybe we’re broken together, but we can also heal together. I think this is the only way I can.”

She reached up and touched his cheek, letting her palm linger there. “I think this is the only way I can, too. You are the only man I have ever truly loved, Jamie, the only man I ever could love.”

“It’s you and me, sugar. This is what was meant to be.”

“You and me,” she agreed as he slid into her.

What she felt was more than desire, more than sensation, more than pleasure. It was all of those fused with love. Powerful. Intoxicating. And something she welcomed being lost in, drowning in—because it meant drowning in him.

“Love you, Jamie.”

“Love you, Summer Grace. My beautiful girl. My only girl.”

Soon she felt him pulse deep inside her, and her body answered. Together they fell over that keen edge, tangled, entwined, where flesh met flesh and heart met heart. And it was exactly right, exactly as it was meant to be. And she knew their whispered words to each other were true. Together they would heal.

*   *   *

IT WAS THE Saturday night after Labor Day and the weather was warm, the air heavy with the damp of the end of the summer season as Jamie drove through the city in the vintage T-bird he’d just bought. With the top down the air blew through Summer’s hair, but she didn’t care if it was a tangled mess. She laid her head against the headrest, looking up at the stars whooshing by above, her hand wrapped in Jamie’s. There was everything in the world to be happy about, it seemed.

“Jamie?”

“What is it, sugar?”

“I’m kind of surprised you managed to get away, with the motorcycle branch of SGR Motors opening Monday. You and Duff have been working so hard, I’ve barely had a chance to see you. Not that I’m complaining. I’m so proud of you guys.”

“There’s always time for a midnight picnic. Anyway, it’s a way to celebrate, just the two of us.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You’ll see,” he said, letting go of her hand to downshift, then turning onto Iberville Street.

“This is the way to the St. Louis Cemetery.”

“Can you think of a more appropriate place for us to have a picnic at midnight?”

She laughed, leaning her head back once more, closing her eyes and letting the breeze wash over her. She was dizzy with the night and the wind and love for this man beside her.

She opened her eyes when she heard the engine slow to a purr, and Jamie was parking. He shut the engine off and came around to help her out of the car, then reached behind the seat for a small picnic basket.

“Are you hungry?” he asked.

“Not really.”

“Good. Because there’s not much aside from champagne in here.”

She shook her head, laughing. “You’re in a mood tonight.”

He leaned down for a quick kiss before they crossed the dark street. “I’m in a great mood.”

When they reached the back wall of the old cemetery, he gave her a boost up. She straddled the wall while he handed her the picnic basket, then held on to it while he climbed up and over. He took the basket first, then helped her down. They walked hand in hand down the rows, moving slowly, not talking, simply being together in the lovely old place that felt sacred to them both for so many reasons.

The moon was nearly full, shining like a metallic disc in the sky overhead, casting silvery light into the shadows of the aboveground tombs.

“Someone’s been here,” Summer said. “There are fresh flowers on every tomb. Weird.” She stopped in front of one of her favorites, an enormous marble mausoleum with a flat sheet of white marble to one side. Someone had already laid a blanket atop it, along with a bottle of champagne in a bucket, two crystal glasses sparkling in the moonlight, and flowers were scattered over the blanket.