Free All of Me (All of Me #1) by Tamsyn Bester, Bailey Townsley

states, like it’s the most natural thing to say. The rest of his sentence is cut off because I accidentally lean in too close and open the door.
    My father looks startled, and then Jason turns to face me. Our eyes crash, for no longer than a brief moment, and then I’m running down the darkened hallway, hearing him shout my name followed by his footsteps. He catches up to me, and before I can get away, his hand is on my elbow, and he’s whirling me into a vacant guest bedroom.
    “No,” I say, pulling at his grasp. “Jason, let me go.”
    He tugs me until my back is flush against his firm chest. It’s rising, moving up and down in perfect sync with mine. I hate it, that our bodies are still acutely attuned to each other. That I’m so aware of his presence it makes my hair stand up.
    “Why did you run?” he asks. His breath hits the back of my neck, and I shudder.
    “I was eavesdropping,” I reply softly. “I’m sorry.”
    “That’s not why you ran,” he growls. I feel the rumble of his chest at my back, and it makes me feel warm all over. God, I hate this. I hate that after all this time, he can still affect me this way, and make me feel like I’m about to crawl out of my own skin.
    “Tell me what you heard.”
    I sigh, unknowingly leaning into his body.
    “You’re getting a divorce,” I swallow, “and that you l-love me.”
    My heart stutters at the acknowledgement. With every ounce of strength I possess, I resist the temptation to turn around and look at him. The moonlight shines through the parted curtains, and I know he will look devastatingly beautiful.
    So I fight it. He’s devastated me once, and surely looking into his eyes, I will find his earlier declaration confirmed. That will devastate me too, over and over again because his eyes can never lie to me.
    “Lacy.” He breathes my name, covets it. It makes my resolve crack just slightly, but it’s enough for him to exploit. I silently beg that he won’t take that chance, but it’s futile.
    He turns me around, sliding his hands up my arms, up my neck until he cups my face. My eyes are pinched closed, a silent refusal to look at him.
    I feel him press our foreheads together, and then he’s brushing my cheeks with his thumbs. My arms hang limply at my sides. If I hold on to him, I’ll never want to let go, and I can’t have that.
    “Please,” he pleads on a breath. “Look at me. Let me see you.”
    I bring my hands up, and place them on top of his. His plea leaves me fighting my own heart because the moment I see the way he’s looking at me right now I know it will be over. My will to fight him will fade, and my will to forgive and try again will take over.
    I have no choice. It’s what my heart wants, and when it comes to Jason Tate, I’m helpless.
    I open my eyes, and when I look up, I see everything I’m afraid of. His love, his passion, his need . All for me.
    “There’s my girl,” he whispers. He makes this feel so right , and the sentiment manages to break my heart a little more, and then put it back together in the same breath.
    “Jason, I -”
    He swallows my words when he presses his lips to my mouth. It startles me, and when I open my mouth to gasp, he takes the opportunity to flick my tongue with his.
    His mouth is warm, his lips soft – a total contradiction to his hard exterior. I expect his kiss to get harder, more possessive. But it doesn’t happen. Instead, I’m given the kind of kiss that every woman dreams of. One filled with love, and hope, and desire.
    His hands slide down my throat, and wrap around my waist as he pulls me closer until there’s no space between us.
    We moan, our hot breaths mingling. I bring my hands up to his chest and slip my arms around his neck, sliding my hands through his beautiful mane of hair. I feel his erection against my stomach, and the ache between my legs grows, becoming unbearable in its intensity.
    I pull away, my chest moving up and down rapidly. “I’ve missed you,” I