I grip his shoulders, fingers digging into muscle under his shirt, and it hits me how solid he is. How real.
How safe.
His kiss turns hungrier, but he doesn’t rush. He keeps checking in—pausing just enough that I can breathe, that I can choose.
I choose him every time.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
I swallow, trembling. “Don’t stop.”
His thumb strokes my hip, slow. “You’re shaking.”
“Because you’re… you,” I whisper.
A low sound leaves him, like he’s fighting a smile. “That’s not an explanation.”
“It’s the whole explanation.”
He laughs softly—brief, like it surprises him too—then dips his mouth to my neck.
I gasp, head tipping back before I can stop it. His lips are warm on my skin, and when his teeth graze lightly, my brain short-circuits.
My hands slide into his hair, and the sensation of gripping him—of anchoring him—feels wildly intimate.
He kisses along my throat, then pauses and looks up at me, eyes bright and dark all at once.
“This okay?” he asks, voice rough.
I nod, barely able to speak. “Yes.”
He presses one more kiss just below my ear, then pulls back again, restraint snapping into place like a lock.
I blink at him, dazed.
“What—” I start.
He exhales slowly, eyes flicking toward the bassinet. “He’s right there.”
“And?” The word slips out, half breathless, half bold, and I can’t believe it came fromme.
Gavin’s gaze swings back to mine, sharp.
“Kayley,” he warns softly, like my name is a prayer and a threat at the same time.
My cheeks burn, but I lift my chin. “I’m not asking you to do something you don’t want to do.”
His jaw flexes. “You have no idea what I want.”
I can feel how hard he’s holding himself back. It’s in the tension of his arms, the way he’s breathing like he just ran a mile, the way his hands still grip my waist like he’s afraid if he lets go, he’ll lose control.
I whisper, “Then tell me.”
He closes his eyes for a second, like he’s gathering himself. When he opens them again, his voice is low and steady.
“I want to take you to bed and keep you there until the snow melts.”
My breath catches hard.
