“Yeah,” she whispered. “I think we are.”
I closed my eyes, forehead falling to hers as if my body had finally found gravity. Her chest fell and rose quickly, just like mine. Every breath we shared made me want to drop to my knees for this woman.
As I pulled her closer, my hands slid to her waist, and I wished they were finding bare skin instead of her dress. I didn’t know how to exist with any space between us.
A light flashed through the darkness behind my closed eyes, and I snapped my head toward the hallway.
“Oh, shit.” A girl stood mid-step, holding up her phone. “That wasn’t—shit, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to.” She stumbled over her words, backing away.
I groaned under my breath and dragged a hand down my face. I looked back at Ellie, not giving a damn if the girl stayed or went. I scanned her features, trying to get even a glimpse of what was going on inside her beautiful, tortured mind.
“Ellie,” I warned. I caught her wrist, pressing her palm flat against my face. “I need you to back up.”
“Why?”
“Because I really want to kiss you right now, and if you don’t back away, I’m not sure I will be able tonotdo just that.”
Her breath hitched, but she didn't pull away. “Sawyer?—”
“Tell me to back away. Tell me, and I will.” I stepped closer, pinning her against the wall.
Her eyes darted to my mouth then back up. “Does it matter?”
“Yes, it matters.” My free hand found the wall beside her head. “Do you want me to kiss you?”
She swallowed hard. “It doesn't matter what I want.”
“Bullshit. It's the only thing that does.” I leaned in until our foreheads were almost touching again.
“It'll make everything more complicated.”
“Everything's already complicated, baby.” I traced my thumb along her jaw. “Tell me to stop.”
“Sawyer…”
“Say the words. Tell me this is all pretend, and I'll walk away right now,” I echoed.
She didn’t respond.
“I can’t,” she whispered.
I backed away anyway, but she pulled me right back to her.
“Fuck it,” she breathed.
She crashed her lips against mine.
Not politely. Not carefully.
It wasn’t a gentle question. It was a claim, a long overdue surrender wrapped in desperation. My hand slid up the back of her neck, fisting gently in her hair as I angled her mouth to mine.
I pressed her harder against the wall, one hand tangling in her hair, the other gripping her waist, as if she might disappear if I didn't hold tight enough. She kissed me back with a kind of reckless abandon that made my head spin.
Her mouth opened on a soft, aching sound that nearly undid me.
And when her tongue brushed mine?
I moaned—full-bodied, from deep in my chest, moaned.
