Page 122 of Less

I laugh softly.

“Possessive much?”

“Hopelessly. What about you? You feel possessive of me?” Less asks, one eyebrow raised in that super sexy way only hot guys can pull off.

I bite my lower lip.

“Ah, I see. Gonna make me wait. Gonna make me beg,” he growls and backs me against the wall, his hands on my hips beneath the button down I put on earlier at his behest. “I see you, Rusty. You're a real tough guy, aren't you?”

His voice is teasing.

Affectionate.

Warm.

I smile up at him.

“Takes one to know one.”

Then I pull him down and kiss him right on the mouth.

Because he's here.

Because he's mine.

Because I can.

Chapter 23

Less

When I'm with her, her mouth on mine, her body in my arms, there's absolutely nothing else in the world that matters.

Amanda is the culmination of every fantasy, daydream, and wish I ever made for a woman—and I finally have her right where she belongs.

Sure, it took me a while to get my head on straight after all the shit that happened—shit I did—three years ago, but I swear to fuck I am solid now.

I am steady.

And if I ever feel unsteady again, I'll be back in therapy so fucking fast I'll get whiplash, because nothing is worth risking losing her ever again.

The apartment is quiet now.

The dishes are still sitting in the sink.

Brielle and Nick are gone.

The only sound left is the soft hum of the city outside and the woman in my arms sighing into our kiss.

Home.

That's what this feels like.

Not the condo.

Not the furniture.

Her.