“I don’t know what this is,” I whisper.
He stops right in front of me, close enough that my breath hits his shirt.
“This is you,” he murmurs, “wanting me.”
My cheeks flame. “I don’t..."
He tilts his head. Not angry. Not amused.
Knowing.
“Ruby. Don’t lie to me.”
His hand lifts, fingers brushing my jaw, thumb sweeping once across my cheek.
My knees wobble instantly.
He feels it.
His eyes darken.
“Come here,” he whispers.
I don’t know if my body moves or he draws me in, but the next second, I’m in his space, his heat, his scent, his everything.
He lowers his mouth to mine, it’s soft, slow and testing.
I gasp.
His hand slides behind my neck, pulling me closer. His lips deepen the kiss.
Heat surges through me. I cling to his shirt like it’s the only solid thing in the room. He kisses me harder, then pulls back, breath warm against my face.
“You’re shaking again.”
“Because of you.”
His smile is quiet. Slight. Ruining.
“Good.”
JAXON
She came.
She came even though her fear is written all over her body. She came even though she’s fighting herself.
She came for me. That knowledge settles deep inside me, warm and certain.
When I kiss her, she melts instantly, like she’s been waiting for my mouth on hers since she walked out last night.
I love that.
I love her hands clutching me. I love the desperate way she arches up. I love the soft sound she makes when I cup her jaw.
But I don’t rush.
Not today.
