I kiss her.
Harder than I meant to.
She makes a soft sound—happy and needy—and then she’s kissing me back like she’s been waiting at the door counting the minutes.
My hands tighten on her hips, pulling her flush against me. She’s warm, soft in all the right places, and she fits like she belongs there.
She always has.
Stella rocks into me, and my restraint frays.
“Jack,” she breathes into my mouth.
I break the kiss just enough to look at her. Her lips are swollen already, eyes bright, cheeks flushed.
“What,” I rasp.
She smiles like she’s about to ruin me. “You can relax now.”
My chest tightens. “I’m relaxed.”
Stella’s brows lift. “You’re gripping me like you’re afraid I’ll run.”
I swallow. “Not afraid.”
“Mm-hmm,” she murmurs, and kisses me again—slower this time, deep and patient, like she’s pulling all the tension out of me one breath at a time.
My hands slide from her hips to her waist, then up her back, feeling the line of her spine under the shirt. She shivers, pressing closer.
I move us backward without thinking until her back meets the wall beside the doorframe.
Stella gasps, but she’s smiling.
“Bossy,” she whispers.
“Always,” I murmur, and kiss the side of her throat.
Her head tips back, exposing more of her neck like an offering. I drag my mouth along skin that tastes like warm honey and vanilla.
Her hands slip into my hair, nails scraping my scalp just enough to make my breath go rough.
“Jack,” she whispers again, voice shaking.
I pause, mouth at her pulse. “Tell me to stop.”
Stella’s fingers tighten. “Don’t you dare.”
That hits me straight in the gut.
I kiss her again—hot and hungry—and she kisses me back with the kind of confidence she didn’t have months ago.
She’s still Stella—soft and silly and bright—but she’s stronger now too.
And she knows what she wants.
She slides one leg between mine, closing the distance, and I groan into her mouth because my body responds like it’s been starving all day.
Stella smiles against my lips. “There he is.”
