Every kiss was desperate, messy, filled with teeth and tongue and a thousand unsaid things. His hips rocked against hers, and the low moan that spilled from her nearly brought him to his knees.
“Tell me this is real,” he growled against her mouth, forehead pressed to hers, as he fumbled at the waistband of her pants.
Her only answer was a whimper and a frantic tug at his pants, pulling him closer, demanding more.
And then there was no space left, no hesitation, no thought.
Pinned against the wall, her arms locked around his neck, her legs clutched his hips. He pulled up at her skirt pushing aside her panties as he felt her core wet and ready.
"Fuck," he moaned. "I need you. Right now."
"Take me."
That was all he needed. His cock met her core. He drove into her like he’d die if he stopped. Every movement, every breath, every heartbeat was tangled together.
He wasn’t just taking her. He was giving himself over completely: every piece of him, raw and unguarded.
And God help him, she was meeting him beat for beat, holding on like maybe she wanted all of him too.
She clung to him as he drove into her. It was everything he hadn't let himself want in the past couple months. He pulled back and looked at her, her breasts spilling out the top over her camisole, her skirt rucked up around her middle as he fucked her.
His kissed her, fucking her mouth the same way he fucked her, powerful and all encompassing.
The creak of footsteps echoed down the hall. Murphy froze, chest heaving, still buried deep inside her. Hillary’s eyes flew wide, panic flashing there.
Without thinking, he slid his hand over her mouth, holding her tight to the wall, caging her in his body. “Shhh,” he breathed, the word barely more than a growl against her ear.
Her heartbeat thundered against his palm. His hips twitched, betraying him, and then he couldn’t stop. Slow thrusts at first, then deeper, harder, the risk only making it more urgent.
Her muffled whimper vibrated against his hand, shooting fire straight through him.
The footsteps passed, fading away, but she was already trembling. Her nails dug into his shoulders, and when she came apart around him, she bit down hard on his hand.
The sting ripped a curse from his throat, but God, it dragged him right over the edge with her. His release hit sharp and hard, his forehead falling to hers, muffled groans swallowed by her kiss.
Pinned to the wall, clinging to each other, they stayed locked together long after the footsteps had vanished, like letting go might shatter the fragile world they’d just built between them. Slowly, the frantic pace of their hearts began to ease, leaving only the sound of their uneven breaths filling the dark equipment room.
Murphy loosened his grip on her, smoothing his hand down her side as if to ground them both. Her lips found his again, softer this time, lingering, almost searching. He kissed her back with the same tenderness, savoring the taste of her, the feel of her, like he never wanted the moment to end.
When he finally pulled back, he rested his forehead against hers. Her eyes were still glassy, her cheeks flushed, and he couldn’t stop himself from brushing his thumb along her damp cheeks.
And then, he let himself stop fighting it. Stop pretending. Stop pushing away the truth he’d been holding at arm’s length.
He loved her.
The realization hit him hard, in a way that stole his breath, but instead of fear, there was only calm. It was already there, written into every kiss, every touch, every damn smile she gave him.
His chest tightened as he whispered, half to himself, half to her, “God, Hilary . . . ” He pulled back just far enough to look into her eyes, his voice rough but steady. “I love you too.”
He leaned in and kissed her again, quick, soft, but no less full of meaning.
When he drew away, she was gazing at him with an expression he’d never seen before. Vulnerable. Unmasked. Likefor the first time, she wasn’t hiding behind control or polish. She lifted her hands to his face, palms warm against his jaw, and kissed him with a certainty that made his chest ache.
“What are we going to do?” he whispered.
A broken laugh bubbled out of her. “I have no clue.” She traced her thumb over his cheekbone, grounding herself. “But . . . come over tonight. We’ll figure it out.”
“Yes,” he said instantly, no hesitation. “Can I bring Finn?”
