I brushed my fingers along Eliza’s wrist, a question written without pressure. She turned her hand and threaded our fingers together, answering.
“I like you,” she said, breath catching. “More than I thought would be possible.”
“Same,” I admitted, helplessly honest. “And I want to be careful with you.”
“I want to be careful, too.” She swallowed, then: “But I also want to kiss you until I forget every bad thing anyone ever taught me about myself.”
I didn’t make a sound, but something shifted inside of me. “I can help with that.”
I leaned in slowly, giving her a dozen chances to change her mind.
“Kiss me. Please, Nate.”
The first kiss rewrote the tension between us. Now it was soft and sure, instead of hesitant and shy. The second closed the polite gap we’d been pretending was necessary. When my hand slid to the back of her neck, her breath caught, and I stilled.
“Okay?” I asked against her mouth.
“Yes,” she said, meaning it, and I felt that yes everywhere.
Her fingers curled against my shoulder, gentle but unmistakably sure. The nearness of her—her warmth, the wayshe fit into the space that used to be between us—made everything else seem distant and unimportant. I brushed my thumb along her cheek, slow, like I needed to memorize the way she breathed before I earned anything more.
“We don’t have to rush,” I told her quietly, meaning every word. “Tell me what you need, and I’ll match you.”
Eliza’s eyes softened in a way that hit me somewhere deep and unguarded. “I don’t want to rush,” she said. “But I don’t want to stop, either.”
That was all it took.
I kissed her—careful at first, like a promise, then deeper as she leaned into me, fingers sliding into my hair. She let out a soft sigh, which made my pulse trip. Every slow brush of her mouth told me she wanted this, wanted me, and damn, I’d been holding myself back for so long.
Our breathing synchronized, every exhale mingling in the hush between words. The world outside faded, leaving only the quiet certainty of her presence. I pressed my forehead to hers, letting myself linger in the moment, memorizing the way her eyelashes brushed her cheeks and the flush beneath her skin. Each heartbeat drew me deeper, making it impossible to imagine a reality where we hadn’t found this quiet peace together.
Her hands traced my jaw, my shoulders, my chest—tentative, then bolder, like she was remembering what it felt like to want someone without fear. Each touch undid me a little more.
“Eliza…” My voice broke in the middle of her name.
“Don’t stop,” she whispered. “Please. I don’t want to stop…”
I nodded and kissed her again, this time slower, allowing the moment to linger warm and full between us. I eased her back against the pillows, giving her every chance to pull away as I pressed my body to hers. She didn’t. She lifted her hips toward mine in a silent response that settled any doubt I had.
We stayed like that—pressed tight, hands everywhere, kissing as though we’d never stop. She pushed lightly at my shoulders. “Sit up,” she murmured.
“Tell me what you need. Slow? Or…?”
“Not slow. Not now.” She laughed as she trailed her hands down my chest to tug at the hem of my shirt until it was over my head and on the floor. “I want to touch you, too. Can I?”
“Yes. God yes. Touch me. Do anything you want.”
I slid my hands over the warm skin of her thighs and up, raising her dress over her head. She tugged it off and tossed it to the floor.
Her breasts were gorgeous, full, and lush, with rosy little nipples peeking through the cream lace of her bra. I darted my tongue out for a taste. Immediately, she arched into my touch with a sexy little moan.
“More,” she moaned as she shoved the cup of the bra down for me.
“Like this?” I sucked hard at her bared nipple, smiling as she ran her hands into my hair and yanked me closer.
“Take me to bed.” She pulled out of my arms. “I don’t want Lois to watch us.”
I stood, sweeping her into my arms to carry her through the house to my bedroom. “I’ve been thinking about this,” I whispered against her lips.
