I lean in slowly. “Tell me to stop.”
She doesn’t.
Our kiss is messy—too many teeth, too much want—but I don’t care. Her hands slide up into my hair and she pulls me close. My hands find her waist, and I pull her onto my lap. Her hips align with mine instantly, like it’s a reflex that we’ve done multiple times. She moans when she’s settled. I run my hands up her back and keep exploring her mouth with mine. We’ve found a rhythm of tongues and caresses. I would say it’s like riding a bike, but nothing about us has ever been routine.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” Hendrix finally says when she pulls back. She’s breathless and panting, just like I am.
“Are you sure? Because I feel like we should be doing this,” I say as I work to catch my breath.
She grins at me. It’s the first real smile that I’ve seen from her in a long time. And I know that she’s not going to be walking away from me.
“Okay, you win. We can keep doing this,” she says with a giggle. It’s soft, sweet and a sound that I haven’t heard for years.
“Thank god. Because I’ve missed having you in my arms like this.” I notice that there is a bit of uneasiness that passes through her eyes, but one blink and it’s gone.
She surprises me by saying, “We should get out of here.”
I pull back slightly and stare at her. “Are you sure?”
She giggles again and it causes my smile to grow. “No, not really, but yes. So let’s go.”
I chuckle. “Well, that’s incredibly clear.”
“I’m saying yes, August. Let’s go.” She stares at me, daring me to say no. “Don’t,” she whispers, but it’s not a warning. I can tell by the look in her eyes that it’s a plea even she doesn’t understand.
I lean in anyway, voice low and rough around the edges. “I’ve been trying not to want this. Not to want you.”
Her breath catches, she doesn’t pull back.
The moment erupts.
I cup her jaw gently with a bit of desperation that I can’t hide. She meets me halfway. The kiss hits fast—urgent, hungry, years of restraint breaking all at once. She grips the front of my shirt, pulling me closer, and I respond just as eagerly.
It’s a kiss that sayswe shouldn’t be doing thiseven as every part of us insistswe’re doing this anyway.
When we finally break apart, we’re both breathless, foreheads touching, the world rushing back in around us.
“We can’t stay here,” she murmurs. Her voice sounds surer than the first time she declared it.
I nod, eyes dark with everything I’m feeling. “Then let’s go.”
We stand—not thinking, not planning—just moving together toward the door, toward the night, toward whatever comes next.
The Backwoods is not far from my place, thankfully. I hold onto her hand the entire time. In the cab that we hail out front, throughout the short ride to my building. I never let go. If she’s finally going to let me touch her again, I’m not wasting a second.
When we reach my building, I pull her from the cab, the doorman holding the door for us and nodding his head at me. I nod in return and usher her into the waiting elevator. Neither one of us speaks as the elevator climbs to the top floor. The tension in the air feels so thick, like I could reach out and grabit. My eyes trail up her body and finally meet her eyes. To my surprise, she’s watching me, eyes hooded like she fully intends to go through with this. This elevator that opens right into my living room, just might be my lucky charm, or maybe ours.
We don’t even make it to the bedroom. The living room is dark. The elevator barely closes before her back hits it. This time it’s not hate that is fueling us. It’s history. It’sI missed youandI shouldn’t havetangled into every touch.
My hand makes my way down her cheek, rediscovering her full breast as I make my way down her torso so that I can hitch her leg around my waist. I push my hips into her, showing her how hard she makes me and just how much I want her. She groans with approval and thrusts her own hips into me.
I kiss her, letting my lips relearn hers, like every second apart has been a mistake that I’m so desperate to undo.
She breaks our kiss and murmurs, “August.” Her forehead is pressed into mine, her voice unsteady. “I’ve missed you.”
I sense the faint bit of alcohol on her breath, smelling just like what I’ve been tasting. I exhale a shaky breath, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “You have no idea.” I admit the one thing I swore I never would, simply becauseit’s her.
We move together through the dim light of my living room, still kissing, still pulling at each other with an urgency that feels like gravity. Her hands slide beneath my shirt, pulling it up over my head and letting it fall to the floor. My fingers skim the hem of her shirt, not rushing my movement, as I slowly pull it over her head.
