One big hand cups the back of my neck, fingers threading into my hair, tilting my head exactly where he wants it. The other slides to my waist, pulling me up and out of the chair in a single tug until I’m standing, pressed flush against him.
I make a small, helpless sound into his mouth and he answers with a deeper one, tongue sliding past my lips in a slow, deliberate stroke that sends torrents of heat through me. My fingers curl into his shirt, clutching fistfuls of fabric as if I’m afraid he’ll vanish if I let go.
He angles his head, kissing me harder, hungrier, like he’s starving for me. Strong hands grip my waist, lifting me justenough to set me down onto the desk, his mouth never leaving mine.
Papers scatter. A pen rolls off and clatters on the floor.
I wrap my legs around his hips on instinct, drawing him in until there’s nothing between us but heat and denim and the thin cotton of my clothes.
His hands roam—down my sides, over my breasts, thumbs pressing into the dip above my waistband like he’s mapping every inch he’s been denying himself.
When he finally breaks the kiss, we’re both breathing raggedly. His forehead drops to mine, eyes closed.
“Greer…”
I grab the fabric at his shoulders in two tight fists. “Don’t,” I snap before he can retreat again. “Don’t apologize. Don’t take it back. Just… stay.”
He exhales a shaky laugh against my mouth. “I’m not going anywhere.”
Then he kisses me again—slower this time, deeper, like he’s savoring every second now that the dam has broken. His thumb brushes the sensitive skin beneath my ear, and I shiver, arching into him.
When we finally separate, I’m dizzy, and I worry I might faint.
His hands stay on me—like letting go isn’t an option anymore.
I touch his jaw, tracing the line of stubble with my fingertips.
Kellan pulls back just enough to look at me—really look. His eyes are dark, pupils blown, but there’s something softer there now. Something unguarded.
“We’re going to figure this out,” he says.
I nod, throat too tight for words.
He brushes a strand of hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. “You can stay with me, but I’m still sleeping on the couch.”
“But—”
He presses a finger to my lips to hush me. “Give it time. I’m not going anywhere.” His expression grows strained. “I just…need to take it slow.”
“You'd best not go too slow, or I’m going to start thinking you don’t really want it at all.”
His eyes flicker with something that looks like pain, and I wonder what might have caused it. He left a fiancé behind when he fled to the mountains. Some thought he’d gotten cold feet, but I wonder if it’s something more.
“Oh, I want you,” he whispers. “I just need to get my head sorted.” He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead before pulling away again, leaving me breathless, aching, and wondering what the hell is going to happen next.
6
KELLAN
No more kissing.
No touching.
Absolutely nothing beyond that—not a damn thing.
It’s probably best that I not be alone with her.
But how the hell can I avoid her when I said she could work out of my clinic?
