He traces a path down the center of my stomach, each inch a test, a silent question.
And I give him the answer in the way I don’t move.
The way I lean into his touch.
The way my mouth crashes back into his, all tongue and teeth and desperate need. I’m burning from the inside out, clinging to the feel of his hand splayed against my abdomen, lower now, hovering just above the waistband of my pants. There’s nothing gentle in this anymore. No denial. Just the sharp, pulsing truth that we’ve been circling this for too long and tonight it’s eating us alive.
His fingers dip lower, ghosting just below the waistline, and my hips rise into the touch before I can stop myself. I groan into his mouth, a ragged, helpless sound, as his hand slides just a little further.
My body answers him with no hesitation.
Gods, please don’t stop.
But then, Theo stills.
His hand pauses just above the button of my pants, resting there like he knows exactly what comes next and is teetering on the edge of crossing it.
I feel his breath catch. Not from hesitation. From awareness.
We’re still outside.
The stone wall is cold against his back. The mist still curls around our ankles, and not twenty feet away, voices carryfaintly in the wind, professors, students, footsteps on wet stone. This place is never fully empty. And what we’re doing…
Theo exhales slowly, forehead pressing into mine, his hand withdrawing with reluctant care. His fingers curl at his side, like it physically hurts to stop.
“I want to,” he whispers, voice raw, aching. “I want to so badly, Liam.”
My chest tightens. I close my eyes, trying to breathe through the ache that settles in my ribs when the space between us opens just slightly, enough to let in the cold again. Enough to remind us both where we are. What this could cost.
“I know,” I whisper back, throat tight. “Me too.”
For a second, neither of us moves.
Our bodies are still flushed, still strung tight with need, still buzzing from everything we almost did. My hands tremble as I lower them, brushing against his arms, wanting to pull him back in and knowing I shouldn’t.
He leans against the wall, trying to catch his breath, his face turned slightly toward mine. “If we go any further… I won’t be able to stop.”
The warning isn’t a threat. It’s a promise.
And I want to break it so badly it hurts.
But not here.
Not with the risk of being seen. Not when even this, just kissing him, is already crossing a line we’re not supposed to acknowledge.
“We’ll find a better place,” I murmur. “Somewhere safe.”
Theo nods slowly, even as his jaw clenches, the restraint in his body still trembling.
“Somewhere I can touch you the way I want to,” he says softly, almost to himself. “All of you.”
And fuck, if that doesn’t wreck me all over again.
26
HARPER
Ilook at the clock again. Twenty minutes gone. And still nothing.
