I looked away first.
Steam clung to my skin as I stepped into the bedroom, towel slung low around my hips, hair dripping onto my collarbone. I rubbed at it with another towel, half-dazed from the shower, not really looking up. Until I saw him.
Dare was sprawled sideways across my bed like this washisroom, flipping lazily through the black notebook I’d left tucked under my pillow.Mynotebook.
“Hey!” I lunged forward, snatching at it. “Put that down.”
He grinned, unbothered, holding it just out of reach. “Relax. I was just checking if I got a mention lately. Some glowing review of my performance, maybe.” His tone was teasing, but beneath it—something raw. Hope. Hunger.
“Seriously, Dare.” My voice came out sharper than I meant, chest tight because it was too much. Too intimate. Toohim. “Give it.”
He caught my wrist mid-swipe and pulled, just enough to make me stumble straight onto the bed, right across his lap.
The journal tumbled behind us. I didn’t care. My towelslipped. We froze. Dare’s breath brushed my face, ragged and shallow. His hand still gripped my wrist; his other splayed over the small of my back, holding me there. Chest to chest. Skin to skin.
“You’re naked,” he rasped. “I couldn’t have planned this better.”
“Didn’t plan on wrestling,” I whispered.
His mouth twitched. “Merry Christmas, Truen.”
Then he kissed me. Hard and soft all at once, memorizing the shape of my mouth, finally kicking down every stupid wall between us. I kissed him back with the same hunger. Desperate. Familiar. Our mouths found a rhythm we’d never really lost. His thigh pressed between mine; his hand curved over my spine. When I gasped, he swallowed it whole.
“You’re sure they’re gone?” I breathed against his lips.
“They’re gone,” he said, voice low. “I’ve got you all to myself.”
The world narrowed to this room, this moment. Him. Me. And I didn’t want to be anywhere else.
Dare’s lips found mine again before I could think too much, before I could let the nerves catch up. It was different this time, urgent, deep, like he was starving and wanted to crawl inside me and live there.
His hand trailed down my back, fingers spreading across bare skin. When I shivered, he pressed closer.
“I could touch you all day,” he murmured.
“Then do it.”
Dare groaned softly, rolling us so I was beneath him, his weight pinning me in the best way. Our hips aligned, frictionsparking between us. He was hard, and so was I, and for a moment it was nothing but breath and heartbeat and the sound of my name breaking on his tongue.
He moved lower, kissing across my chest, my stomach, worshipful. When his tongue flicked over my nipple, I arched without thinking.
“You like that,” he said, smug but breathless.
“Shut up and do it again.”
He did, slower this time, tracing fire across my skin until I couldn’t think straight. Then his hand wrapped around me, and I nearly lost it.
“You’re perfect,” he whispered, like it was a secret he’d kept too long.
I was too gone to speak. My hand fisted in his hair as he stroked me, lips on my throat, sucking just hard enough to leave a mark. I didn’t care. I wanted the mark. I wanted proof that this happened.
“I’ve thought about this,” he said, voice thick. “Every goddamn night.”
“Then don’t stop.”
“Wait.” His voice was a breathless huff as he pushed off the bed. “Don’t move.”
Right, like there was a chance of that happening. I watched him dart across the hall, returning seconds later, stark naked and holding up a bottle of something.
