“Why not? Fits you better every time you open your mouth.” I’d given her the nickname years ago when she’d followed Thatcher, Holt, and me one afternoon around the Fourth of July. We’d pooled our cash and bought a stash of firecrackers, then hiked into the woods to set them off. Jessa couldn’t stand to be left behind, so she’d trailed us and almost blew off her hand when she set fire to the whole pile while we were arguing about who got to light the first one. She’d been making my life a living hell ever since.
She shot me a look sharp enough to draw blood. But then her gaze softened, sliding over me in a way that had nothing to do with irritation. The firelight caught the edges of her eyes, and damn if my chest didn’t tighten.
“You shouldn’t be here,” she whispered.
“You’re right.” I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “But I’m not leaving you out here alone.”
Silence stretched between us, filled only by the pop of the fire and the whisper of night settling in. She shifted, pulling her knees up to her chest. The move dragged her shirt tight, and I had to clench my fists to keep from reaching for her.
When the wind picked up, she shivered. I grabbed the hoodie from my pack and tossed it at her.
She caught it, frowning. “Are you planning on staying, then?”
“Planning on keeping you alive,” I muttered.
Her lips curled up, not into a full smile, but close enough to make me feel like I’d been punched in the ribs. “Guess we’re sharing a tent, then.”
My cock twitched at the thought, but I forced a scowl. I should have brought my own tent, but I didn’t think she’d last this long. “No problem. You stay on your side, and I’ll stay on mine.”
We didn’t say much during a quick dinner of canned beans heated up over the fire and a few protein bars. She might have packed a lot of gear, but I’d give her an “F” on food planning. When we finally crawled inside the tent, my stomach still rumbling, her body brushing mine in a space that would have been tight for one, I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I’d make it through the night without crossing that line.
“You shouldn’t have followed me,” she finally said, her voice low.
I rolled over to face her. “You shouldn’t have come up here alone.”
“So we’re both stubborn. Shocking.”
“Your brothers would rearrange my face if they knew I was out here with you.”
“Are you afraid of them? Seems like you’re all about making choices based on what you think my brothers want.” She turned toward me, the dim light from her lantern catching on her cheekbones. “Maybe start thinking about what you want. Or even better, what I might want for a change.”
She was too fucking close to be playing with me, but I couldn’t stop. “And what’s that?”
Her eyes didn’t flinch. “You.”
The word landed like a hammer to my heart. I stared at the lantern so hard I saw double. It didn’t matter what I wanted. All I could think about was Thatcher, Holt, and Dane. I’d given those men my loyalty a lifetime ago.
She stared at me while she wiggled around in her sleeping bag. A few seconds later, she tossed her leggings aside. Her shirt followed. “It’s going to be too hot in here with you throwing off enough heat to melt an igloo.”
The tent shrank. Her shampoo, something clean and barely sweet, hung in the air.
“This is a mistake,” I said.
“Yet you’re still here.” She shifted closer, the whisper of her bare skin brushing against her sleeping bag as loud as thunder. “Say you don’t want me, too, and I’ll roll over and go to sleep so you can go back to pretending I’m just your friends’ little sister.”
I swallowed, my throat trying to work around gravel. “I can’t afford to make a mistake.”
She slid her palm over my chest, slow and testing, the heat of her hand burning through my shirt. Every muscle in me went tight. She felt it happen, and her smile turned soft, like she recognized I was teetering on a very thin edge. “It’s not a mistake, Harlan. It’s a choice.”
“Jessa,” I warned, hoping I had the strength to resist her, but knowing deep down I’d already failed.
“Harlan.” Her tone smacked of sass followed by a challenge.
I could’ve rolled away. I could’ve hauled myself outside and slept under the damn stars. Instead, her hand gripped my shirt and tugged, just enough to topple whatever willpower I had left.
“Fuck it,” I muttered, dragging her against me and crashing my mouth down on hers. No hesitation. Just teeth, tongue, and hunger. I kissed her hard enough to bruise, filthy enough to draw a gasp, and when she slid her hands under my shirt and tugged it up over my head, I almost lost control.
She bit my lip and raked her nails over my shoulders. I jammed my thigh between hers, and the sound she made wrecked me. Resisting her was impossible. I’d been holding back too long, and now I wanted everything… messy, raw, and dirty.
