Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78603 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
She arches a brow, a hint of a smile tugging at her mouth. “Yeah?”
I swallow, trying to rein in the tension thrumming through me. “We should probably head inside,” I say, though the words taste like regret.
She doesn’t move. Instead, she fixes me with a look that steals whatever coherent thought I had left in my head. Slowly, she rises on her knees, close enough that I can feel her breath against my cheek. “Boone,” she whispers, her voice trembling just a bit. “Please kiss me.”
Her plea knocks the air from my lungs. In that instant, all my carefully erected barriers, all the reasons I’ve been telling myself we should keep our distance, crumble. I can’t resist anymore. Not with her eyes so earnest, not with the way she leans into me, fingertips grazing my chest as though she’s afraid I might disappear.
I shift, turning so I can cup her cheek in one hand. My palm tingles at the warmth of her skin, and for a moment, we both pause—like we’re standing on the edge of a cliff, deciding whether to jump. Then I tilt her face up and lower my head, pressing my lips to hers.
The kiss sparks through me like lightning. Her lips are soft, a perfect fit against mine, and I lose myself in the sensation. My fingers slide into her hair, drawing her closer as I deepen the kiss. I’d intended this to be gentle, cautious. But the weeks of tension, the days of pretending we’re just two people sharing space, erupt into something hotter, more desperate.
Aubree lets out a soft sound of approval and tangles her fingers in my shirt, pulling me closer. My heart jackhammers against my ribs, and I angle my body so I can wrap my other arm around her waist, holding her securely. Every breath feels stolen, every second charged with a new urgency.
The moonlight casts shifting shadows over us as we move, her hands sliding up my arms, over my shoulders. I feel the goosebumps rise on her skin when I trail my knuckles along her forearm. I tug her gently onto my lap, and she comes willingly, her knees bracketing my hips. The press of her body against mine sends a fresh surge of heat coursing through my veins.
My mind flashes with warning signals—this is dangerous, we’re vulnerable, we should be inside—but right now, the only thing I care about is the taste of her lips and the feel of her body against me. Every sense is overloaded: the night air cooling our exposed skin, the scent of pine and faint woodsmoke from the cabin’s fireplace. It all merges into a heady rush as we kiss and kiss, like we’ve been starved for this connection.
She breaks away for a moment, panting softly, her eyes searching mine. “We…should…” she tries to say, but I pull her back in, capturing her mouth before she can finish the thought. My tongue grazes hers, and she shivers against me, a soft moan escaping her lips.
My hand slides down to the small of her back, anchoring her to me. Her nails dig gently into my shoulders, not enough to hurt but enough to make me feel how much she wants this too. I groan low in my throat, the sound swallowed by our kiss.
Eventually, the need for air forces us apart. We stay there, foreheads touching, both of us breathing hard. My chest rises and falls in time with hers. She’s trembling, and I realize my own hands are shaking too—from adrenaline, from need, from everything.
“You have no idea,” I manage, voice rough, “how long I’ve been trying not to do that.”
Her lips curve into a wobbly smile. “I might have an idea,” she says, placing a hand over my racing heart. “Because I feel the same way.”
I exhale, pressing a kiss to her temple. Warmth floods my chest, mingling with a potent cocktail of desire and relief. For the first time in what feels like ages, I let go of the rigid rules I’ve set for myself. We both deserve this moment—deserve to feel something other than fear.
“We should probably still move this inside,” I whisper, taking a quick glance around. There’s no immediate threat, but the open yard isn’t exactly the safest spot for letting our guards down.
Aubree nods, her breathing still uneven. “Let’s go,” she agrees, though her fingers linger in my hair as though she’s reluctant to break away.
I help her up, and for a second, we wobble on unsteady legs. She tugs me back in for one more quick kiss, and I indulge her gladly, savoring the taste of her lips in the moonlight. Then, hand in hand, we gather our belongings and head toward the cabin, the night air cool against our flushed skin.
And as we cross the threshold, my arm around her waist, I swear I can still feel the imprint of her kiss, the echo of her heartbeat against mine. I fucking want her.