“Like you’re going to stay. Like…I’m all you see.”
“Iamgoing to stay.” Debra’s expression softened instantly, any hint of teasing draining away. “And believe me…youareall I see.”
Billie reached for Debra’s wrist and took her wine glass from her. She pulled her in, stepping further into Debra’s space, until her back met the edge of the counter. She braced one hand beside Debra’s hip, blocking her in. Debra had nowhere else to look other than up at her. “Y-you…”
“Is this you holding back?” Debra whispered as she placed a hand on Billie’s stomach.
“Yes.” Billie’s jaw tensed. “And it’s takingeverythingwithin me.”
Billie leaned in and kissed her slowly, but it deepened quickly, that intense hunger creeping into it as her control started to fray. Debra melted into her, her hands rising to Billie’s waist and curling into the fabric of her shirt like she needed something to hold.
A low moan rumbled in Billie’s throat as she kissed Debra harder, as though she could swallow the last month of distance and doubt. She pressed closer, her hips shifting forward, and Debra whimpered against her lips. That sound hit Billie’s nervous system like a spark.
She froze and forced herself back into some semblance of calm, because if she didn’t stop now, she wasn’t going to stop at all. Her body wanted more, and her hands wanted to roam. She wanted to take, to claim…to remind Debraexactlywhat she’d meant when Billie said she only wanted her. But she forced herself to pull back a fraction and rested her forehead against Debra’s.
Billie swallowed, her voice rough as she said, “I’m trying to be good.”
Debra smiled, one eyebrow lifting a little. “For me?”
Billie nodded once.
Debra’s hand rose, her thumb brushing Billie’s bottom lip gently. “You already are.”
Billie’s eyes fluttered closed at the contact. The truth was there in her chest, as clear as day. She didn’t just want Debra in her bed; she wanted Debra in her life. In her mornings, her evenings, in her kitchen while Billie cooked for her, pretending that her heart wasn’t going to burst out of her chest.
She opened her eyes again and looked deep into Debra’s. “Stay here with me tonight.”
“If that’s what you want…”
Billie lifted both hands and cupped Debra’s face, those blue eyes stealing her breath along with every coherent thought she had. “I want you in my bed, Debra.”
Debra’s breath hitched. “Okay.”
Billie let out a shaky laugh and kissed her once more before forcing herself to step back. She turned, picked up the knife again with trembling hands, and stared down at the chopping board. This was absolutely happening. No doubt about it.
You don’t even realise how lucky you are!
Debra had always believedthat the worst part of wanting someone was the wanting itself. The ache, the hunger, the constant hum beneath the skin that made it impossible to think straight. But this—the aftermath of dinner—was something else entirely.
It had been deceptively normal. Beautiful, even. Billie’s food had been better than Debra thought it would be, but she should have known that Billie would likely be an exceptional chef tonight. ItwasBillie Brown she was sitting across from after all. Still, it had felt as though Billie had stood over the stove and thought about Debra while she’d stirred and tasted and plated up.
And now they were here.
Plates cleared and stacked in the dishwasher, while Debra enjoyed the view of Billie moving around the kitchen. Billie had poured them both a drink—whiskey, of course—and Debra now sat at the table with her glass between her hands, trying to outwardly appear like a woman who could handle this. A woman who wasn’tsecondsaway from losing her composure completely.
Billie moved around the kitchen with that particular kind of focus she always had, the fabric of her shirt tugging when she reached overhead. She looked like an entirely different version than any Debra had come across before.
She wasn’t Billie from the shop or Billie in the harness as she loomed over Nina in the faint light of her office, and she certainly wasn’t Billie shaking on her knees outside Debra’s door. This Billie was domestic and still a little controlled. This Billie was the Billie she adored the most.
Debra continued to watch her. She couldn’t help it. She studied the way Billie’s fingers gripped the edge of the counter when she paused, the way she drew in a breath like she was restraining something, and the way she avoided looking directly at Debra for too long in case the last thread of control still holding her together snapped.
Debra should have said something calm and reassuring, but it was hard to find the words when every part of her body felt tuned to Billie.
Billie turned and met her gaze, and Debra’s stomach dipped. She was giving her that look again. The one that reminded Debra that she would devour her before this night was over. Billie set her glass down on the counter and moved slowly towards the table. She didn’t speak; she just watched Debra as though she was assessing her. Then Billie took a step closer. And another.
Debra’s pulse jumped as Billie’s eyes darkened. She tipped her chin, trying to keep herself steady and not looking like she was waiting for Billie to make the first move. But she was. She was absolutely waiting.
Billie stopped beside the table and placed one hand on its edge, leaning forward slightly. She wasn’t quite close enough to touch, but she was close enough for Debra to feel the heat of her.
