“Thirty seconds,” someone shouts, and the energy spikes.
People are hugging, laughing, and toasting the year that’s about to end.
I glance at Sin.
He’s not looking at the fireworks.
He’s looking at me.
His eyes are molten, reflecting the bursts of light overhead. It’s like the world around us doesn’t exist for him, like I’m the only thing he sees. The intensity of his gaze makes my breath hitch, my throat tightening as I try to steady myself. The cheering, chanting, and fireworks all fade into obscurity under the weight of those eyes. Those amazingly different-colored eyes that make me completely weak inside.
“Fifteen!” The crowd’s voices swell, their enthusiasm a roaring wave.
Sin’s hand tightens on my waist, pulling me even closer. The heat of his touch burns through the layers of fabric between us. My head feels light. My pulse is erratic. The countdown is a blur, the numbers tumbling together as the world narrows to this moment.
To him.
“Ten!” The voices rise to a fever pitch, overlapping, frantic.
“Elizabeth,” Sin growls, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade. I look up at him, my chest tight, my lips parting to respond, but the words are lost as he cups my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek.
“Five!” The crowd is deafening now, the fireworks launching in rapid succession, their explosions painting the sky in bursts of fiery brilliance.
“Four!”
His eyes hold mine, unrelenting, filled with something raw, something that makes me ache in places I never knew I could.
“Three!”
His breath against my lips, warm, steady, anchors me even as my knees threaten to buckle.
“Two!”
My heart pounds, my hands trembling as they reach for him, gripping his leather cut like he’s the only thing tethering me to this world and keeping me upright.
“One!”
The world erupts in an explosion of sound and light as fireworks burst in a dazzling finale, and the crowd roars their cheers into the night. But for me, the noise fades, the colors blur, and all that remains is Sin. He doesn’t hesitate, slamming his lips forward, claiming mine in a kiss that’s passionate, deep, and utterly consuming. It’s as if the fireworks aren’t in the sky—they’re in me, lighting up every nerve, every inch of my skin.
His fingers clench tightly in my hair, more aggressive this time.
I gasp, but not out of fear, out of carnal desire as I completely melt into him, the chaos around us forgotten. When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests against me, his breath mingling with mine in the cold night air.
“Happy New Year, wildcat,” he whispers, his voice rough and raw, full of something unspoken but undeniably real.
And just like that, I’m a lost cause.
Inhim, in this moment, in the way his presence makes everything else disappear.
The world is celebrating, fireworks lighting the sky, cheers ringing out into the night.
But all I can feel ishim.
The fire raging between us.
Before I can think, before I can stop myself, I lean in. Our lips meet again in a rush, deep and hungry. The world blurs, and the only thing grounding me is him—his arms, his lips, the way he holds me like I’m something precious. My fingers pull him closer, needing him like I’ve never needed anything before.
When we finally break apart, I’m breathless, my heart pounding so hard it physically hurts.
