For a while, neither of us spoke. Then her shoulders started to shake.
“I thought I was going to lose him,” she said. “I really thought they were going to take him.”
“You didn’t lose him.”
“But I could have.” Her breath hitched. “I keep seeing it. Him getting into that car. The door closing. Me standing there and not being able to stop it.”
“It never should have happened,” I said. “They never should have been able to get that close to him. To either of you.”
“Caleb—”
I pulled her up from the couch, dragging her into my arms like I could anchor her there. Like if I held her hard enough, nothing could ever touch her again.
She gasped and clutched my shirt, her fingers curling tight into the fabric.
“I was so scared,” she whispered.
“I know.”
Her body shook against mine. “I didn’t know what to do.”
“You did everything right.”
Her face pressed into my chest. I could feel her tears soaking into my shirt. I wrapped my arms around her, holding her like I meant it. Like she was mine to protect.
“I can’t lose you,” I said into her hair.
She stilled. Then she lifted her head and looked at me.
“So don’t,” she said. Her hand came to my chest.
My pulse kicked hard. “Marisol…”
“I know,” she whispered. “I know what this is. I know what you are to me. And I know what you’re not supposed to be.”
“This is a bad idea.”
“So is loving someone who might not come home.”
She rose onto her toes and the line disappeared as she pressed her lips to mine. The kiss was slow at first, then I took control.
Her breath hitched as I backed her against the wall, my hands sliding down her sides, gripping her hips like I could fuse her to me. She gasped when I lifted her, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively, her fingers tangling in my hair as I kissed her again… harder this time, deeper, like I was trying to consume her.
With her back pressed against the wall, her body arched into mine, and I could feel the heat of her through the thin fabric of her shirt. I growled against her mouth, my teeth grazing her lower lip before I pulled back just enough to yank the shirt over her head. Her hands were already at my belt, fumbling with the buckle, her breath coming in sharp, needy gasps.
“Caleb,” she whispered, her voice raw, and the sound of my name on her lips sent a jolt of fire straight through me.
I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Not with words. Instead, I crushed my mouth to hers again, my hands sliding up her thighs, gripping the waistband of her jeans and tearing them down in one rough motion. She kicked them off, her fingers clawing atmy shirt, pulling it over my head before her nails raked down my back.
The sensation was electric—pain and pleasure twisting together, making my muscles coil tight. I pinned her back against the wall, my hips grinding into hers, and she moaned, her head falling back as I kissed down her throat, my teeth scraping over her pulse point.
“You have no idea,” I growled against her skin, “how many times I’ve imagined this.”
She whimpered and raked her fingers through my hair. “Show me.”
I didn’t need to be told twice. I carried her to the bed, laying her down before stripping off the last of her clothes, my eyes raking over every curve, every inch of skin flushed with need. She reached for me, but I caught her wrists, pinning them above her head as I settled between her thighs.
“Not yet,” I murmured, my voice rough. “I want to taste you first.”
