“GET A ROOM!” someone yells.
When he finally pulls back, I’m breathless.
Scottie just smiles down at me, not caring about the surrounding people, still holding me close. “Best losing bet,” he repeats softly.
My pulse is a runaway rhythm.
The walk back to The Commons feels too long and too short at the same time. That kiss inside Oakley’s flipped every switch inside me, lit every fuse. Scottie keeps glancing over at me as we walk with the rest of our group, like he’s trying to figure out if I felt the same explosion he did.
There’s a connection between us. Something that’s been building since our wedding night, humming under every breakfast, every touch, every look. Something snapped loose in the back alley of the Roadhouse, only for both of us to pull back at the last second.
And now… now it feels like it’s going to burst at the seams.
Fighting this was manageable at first. A subtle ache. A maybe someday. But tonight, I can see it in his eyes. It’s the same feeling I have. He doesn’t want to fight it anymore. And the truth is… neither do I.
We say goodnight to the last of our group as everyone steps off onto the floors of their apartments, and by the time the penthouse door clicks shut behind us, something in me gives way.
I step into him, fingers curling into the front of his shirt, needing him close. Needing him like I’ve never needed anything.
“Scottie,” I whisper.
He barely gets out a reply before I rise onto my toes and kiss him. It’s gentle at first. Searching and almost tentative. My lips are asking a question I don’t have words for. He makes a low sound in his chest, something between a groan and a sigh, and then his hands slide instinctively to my waist, pulling me in flush against him. That’s the moment that everything inside me spirals.
The kiss deepens because hedeepens it, and I don’t protest. I want him as much as he wants me.
His mouth moves over mine with a hunger that steals my breath, his tongue sliding against my bottom lip until I open for him. He tastes of Gatorade and mint. He never touched the beer tonight that he was offered, and all I can think is how much I want to drown in this moment.
I melt into him, like I’ve been waiting for this, because I have been. Ever since the honky-tonk, and the alley, and the moment in the hotel room when he said he’d get on his knees to beg.
My body understands what I want before my mind catches up.
This was always going to happen tonight.
His other hand comes up to cup my jaw, tilting my face so he can kiss me deeper, slower, like he’s savoring every second. My fingers curl into his shirt, wrinkling the fabric, and I don’t care. All I care about is the heat of his body, the way his heart pounds against my chest, the way he’s holding me like I’m precious and breakable and his.
When I finally pull back, we’re both breathing hard.
His pupils are blown wide, lips swollen and red from my kiss, and the look on his face is raw need barely restrained. It sends a thrill straight through me.
I don’t think. I just act.
I drop to my knees right there in the entryway.
The cool hardwood bites into my skin through my dress, grounding me even as my pulse races. I reach for him, hands sliding up his thigh before I can think about how I’m probably the least experienced woman to ever do this to him, but I can’t care because he makes me bolder than anyone ever has.
I feel the muscles tense beneath his jeans. “Kat...” His voice is already rough. “What are you—”
I look up at him as my fingers find his belt. His breath catches audibly.
“Let me,” I whisper.
For a moment, he just stares down at me, chest rising and falling rapidly, hands flexing at his sides like he doesn’t know what to do with them. Then he nods, just once, and I watch his throat work as he swallows hard.
I unbuckle his belt slowly, the metallic clink loud in the quiet entryway. My hands are steadier than I expected as I unbutton his pants, slide the zipper down tooth by tooth. The sound makes him inhale sharply.
I can see the outline of him through his boxer briefs. He’s hard and straining against the fabric, my mouth watering at the sight of how perfect and powerful he looks, and all the things he could do to me with it, as heat pools low in my belly.
I touch him lightly through the thin material at first. Just enough to feel the heat of him, the rigid length pressing against my palm… the heavy weight of him.
