Hope nods. She bites the inside of her cheek, but I can see the relief.
“I’ll handle Gauge,” I say. “He’s not the type to get his hands dirty himself. He’s just a messenger.”
Hope glances up at me, and I see something like gratitude there. But Jaxon cuts in.
“He’s mine, Knox. Promise me, he’s mine.” The stare he gives me sends a shiver down my spine and I stiffly nod.
With a blink, his expression is softer again and his signature grin plastered on his lips, he groans, then sits up. “I brought dinner,” he says, pointing at the takeout in my hands.
“One night,” I say, and my eyes find Hope. “Tomorrow, we fix everything.”
“One night,” she repeats and a smile tugs on my lips.
One night, where she’s ours and the world outside doesn’t exist.
DIMITRI
I don’t taste my food. My mind is elsewhere, watching Hope as she leans into the conversation, following Jaxon’s jokes with real laughter, her eyes darting between us. I’ve never seen her look the way she does now.
She changed into a simple black dress, a little more revealing than usual. And I’m definitely not complaining. She eats everything on her plate, which is rare, and even picks off Knox’s when she thinks he isn’t looking. He pretends not to notice, just watches her with a small smile and a glint in his eye that says he likes her greedy more than he thought he would. Jax tries to keep up the banter, but he’s also tracking her, waiting to see ifthe smile will crack or if all of this is a dream and she’ll vanish back into that black hole.
I want to remember this moment, file it away under things worth saving. Most of my life is just a list of things I’d rather forget, but if there’s a way to keep this moment in my blood forever, I want it.
She tucks up against me, her head on my shoulder, and I rest my hand on her thigh. Nothing sexual, just contact, but she makes a noise in her throat and shifts, the hem of her dress creeping up as she moves. Knox raises one eyebrow at me and leans farther back, stretching out and making room for whatever Hope wants to do.
Jaxon finishes his beer and stands to take the plates to the kitchen. I can feel him watching us, but he doesn’t say anything, just keeps rinsing dishes with his jaw set. Hope traces a line up my bicep with her finger, slow at first, then more deliberately. I meet her eyes and it hits me how close she is. How much she’s letting go.
“Careful, Hope. If you keep that up, I won’t stop,” I say.
She tilts her head and kisses my jaw, soft. She lingers, brushing her lips up to my ear, and the hair on my arms stands up. “Maybe I don’t want you to stop.”
Her voice is steady, but I see the crackle of anxiety in her eyes. She wants it, is terrified of it, and is working as hard as she can not to flinch.
“Whatever you need,” I tell her, and I mean it. I would cut myself open and let her crawl inside if it made her feel safe.
Hope turns, swings one leg over my lap, straddling me. She’s so small it barely registers as weight, but the movement is bold and it draws a laugh from Knox. “Damn, sweetheart. You going to ride him right here?”
She ignores him. Eyes on me, arms braced on my shoulders, she presses her mouth to mine and kisses me, slow and carefulat first, then with a burst of hunger that surprises even her. I grip her hips, anchoring her, and return the kiss, parting my lips when she pushes her tongue inside.
She shifts in my lap and I know I’m going to lose it if she keeps this up. The more she moves, the tighter her thighs clamp around me, and my hands can’t help themselves, wandering up her ribs, memorizing the pattern of her heartbeat. I expect her to panic, to freeze, to pull back, but instead, she leans in, forehead pressed to mine.
“Never leave me,” she whispers, voice small but sure.
“I belong to you, Hope,” I tell her, and tuck a stray hair behind her ear.
A sly smile forms on her plump lips and she kisses me again. She grinds against me, hips slow, and the friction is fucking devastating. My cock already hurts from the pressure, and she moans.
She pulls back slightly, her cheeks flushed. “Want you,” she admits, and it’s so honest, I nearly forget to breathe.
Every cell in my body is screaming to pin her down, but I don’t. I only move when she does, match her breath for breath, lean into every signal she sends. My hands trace the hem of her dress, and I feel the shiver that runs through her. She guides my palms higher. Up her thighs, over the soft skin, then under, all the way between her legs.
Fuck me. She’s not wearing anything underneath.
I gaze her in the eyes, just to make sure, and she holds that stare, challenging me.
I slide my fingers up, find her wet and ready, needy as I am. Her whole body clenches and I can feel the catch in her throat as I stroke slow, gentle, not wanting to startle her off. She shudders but doesn’t stop.
“You want to move to the bedroom?” I ask her, careful, giving her every out.
