“I am.”
“Why?”
“You know why.”
He tilts his head.
“Tell me anyway.”
My throat tightens.
“Because… this feels… big.”
His expression softens. Just enough to undo me.
“Good,” he says quietly. “It feels big to me too.”
My breath stutters.
Then he moves, one smooth step, and lifts a hand to cup my jaw, thumb feathering along my cheek.
I melt instantly.
His lips brush mine once, soft and slow.
Then again, longer.
Then deeper, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me into him with quiet, controlled need.
My fingers clutch his shirt.
And then he kisses me fully.
Not rushed. Not hungry like last night.
This kiss is slower. Worse. Better. More dangerous.
This kiss means something.
He breaks only when I’m breathless.
His forehead rests against mine.
“Ruby,” he murmurs. “I’m not playing with you.”
My breath trembles. “I know.”
He brushes his thumb over my bottom lip.
“I want you,” he says. “Not just your body.”
Oh god.
My whole chest tightens.
“I… I didn’t expect this,” I whisper.
He leans in again, kissing the corner of my mouth, the edge of my jaw, my ear,
