Josie’s wearing some baggy black sweatpants, a pair that surely belongs to Harry, and even though I have no right to be jealous right now, I hate that. I hate seeing her in another man’s clothes.

After today, she’ll borrow my shirts. She’ll raid my closet. Even though everything will swamp her, and she’ll be swimming in miles of loose, faded cotton, it’s my scent that will linger on her skin.

“You know how perfect you were last night?” I grind the words against the back of her head, fingers dipping beneath the black waistband. “You were a goddamn dream.” Bare skin greets me, a whole long stretch of taut abdomen, and then I’m there, nudging at her slick heat.

I suck in a sharp breath. “You’re wearing his clothes without any panties? Josie, are you trying to kill me?”

“Maybe.” She splutters a weak laugh when I spank the top of her slit, baring my teeth against her hair. “You deserve it, you big jerk.”

I know I do. And she can wear what she likes. I know all that, but there’s still a war beat drumming in my chest when I slide my fingers deeper. Seeking, probing, testing her swollen pussy. Is she sore after last night?

“Does it hurt?”

An elbow jabs into my gut. “Don’t give me that. You want to dunk me in a salt bath, you have to earn it, Everett Bray.”

Ha. Fine by me.

“Then I’d better get started.” My wrist catches on her waistband as I pull my hand away, and Josie makes a small sound of disagreement, but I grip her hips and spin her around. “Sit down right there. On the edge of the seat.”

I jerk Harry’s sweatpants down her thighs before she can sink down. Josie lowers herself into the passenger side of the car, her bare ass settling on the edge of the cracked leather. In the footwell and on the back seat, the car is a riot of tangled sleeves and jumbled possessions, and I take one more look at the sweatpants tangled around her knees, then yank them all the way off and toss them away in the long grass, her flip flops tangled up in the legs.

Josie’s laugh makes my chest swell three sizes, so I keep going. “Is that his shirt too? ‘Course it is. It’s got his college logo on it. Right, that’s got to go.”

She shrugs it off happily, throwing the warm fabric against my chest—and then my girl’s bared to me again. Grinning up at me with so much tentative trust and warmth and light, that I could never deserve her in my whole life.

“You’re jealous,” she says, stating the obvious. Relishing it.

I fall to my knees and jerk her closer by the hips, right to the edge of the seat. “Always.”

Where to kiss first? I start with the hollow of her throat, pausing long enough to feel her pulse tap-tap-tap against my lips. Then I trail across each shoulder; down to her right nipple; to the left. I suck on her beautiful body, weighing her other tit in my palm.