“Language and all,” she muttered, disentangling from my grip. She strode ahead several paces and gravel crunched under our feet until we reached the paved shoulder of the road.

“Are you and Jax friends?”

“I barely know him, but I guess you could say that.”

“Like you and I are friends?” I shook my head. “Were friends.”

She stopped and turned, hands on her hips. “We still are, Rafe. There’s too much history between us.” Her defensive stance eased. “I can’t imagine ever just walking away.”

I reached out and tugged on her arm, bringing her against my chest. Her hands rested on my shoulders, and I stiffened under her touch. Though I no longer needed the sling, my shoulder still ached.

“Nikki…” I licked my lips, tantalized by the thought of losing myself in her, and I almost forgot she was eight years older from the last time I saw her. The last time I fucked her. I tilted my head, closing the distance between us, and moved in for a taste of something I hoped would bring back a spark of sanity to my life.

She gripped my shirt. “What are you—?”

“Shut up and fucking kiss me.”

Nikki stared at me for a few seconds that beat in my head like a gavel. She deliberated, indecision warring on her face—in the squint of her brown eyes, the downturn of her lips. All at once, she met me halfway, open-mouthed and as far from shy as I remembered. Her tongue thrashed with mine, trying to get the upper hand until she gave in. She always gave in. I gripped her hips, pulled her into the hard ridge of my jeans, and the whimper that escaped her throat told me all I needed to know.

I could conquer her right now, in broad daylight as the occasional car rolled past, and she’d let me. I lowered my zipper, pushed up the flirty skirt that hugged her ass too tightly, and wound her strong legs around my waist. We swayed for a moment, both hanging on until we regained balance. I was a moment away from tugging her panties to the side and thrusting into her, except something about this didn’t feel right—beside the fact it was an insane, irresponsible public display of indecency. In my gut, it felt like a betrayal to someone else.

Our mouths disconnected, and her legs slid down my jeans slowly. My chest rose and fell in rapid succession, matching the movement of hers. I wiped the sweat from my brow and returned her perplexed gaze.

“I’m sorry.” I gestured to the ring on her finger. “You’re engaged, and I’m…” I paused long enough to yank up my zipper. “Really fucked up in the head.”

She smoothed her hair, patted down her skirt, and stood up straighter. “You’re not the only one. I kissed you back.”