Phoenix closes the last inch between us, his hand cupping my face the same way it did this morning. But this kiss is different. Deeper. More urgent. Like he's been holding back all day and finally let himself feel everything he's been suppressing.
I kiss him back with equal desperation, my hands fisting in his t-shirt, pulling him closer. The rain pounds against the roof, drowning out everything except the sound of our breathing, the thundering of two hearts that have no business beating in sync.
When we finally break apart, we're both breathing hard. Phoenix rests his forehead against mine, his eyes closed.
"This is a terrible idea," he murmurs.
"Probably," I agree.
"The worst timing imaginable."
"Absolutely."
"We should stop. Be smart about this."
"We should."
Neither of us moves.
The rain continues to fall, and somewhere downstairs eight men are preparing for war. But up here, in this small room, there's just us.
Just this moment.
Just the impossible thing blooming between us despite every reason it shouldn't.
And for now, that's enough.
Chapter 9 - Phoenix
She wants this.
Fuck.
And I want it too, want her with an intensity that should terrify me but instead feels like the only thing that makes sense in a world gone mad.
I know I should be the one stopping this. I'm older, more experienced, the one with power in this dynamic. I should be smart, responsible, put distance between us until the war is over and she's had time to heal from what Cole did to her.
I should do a lot of things.
But I'm not going to.
Fuck it. If there's a chance I might die in the next few days or weeks, might as well take this chance. Might as well enjoy our time together, have something good and real and honest before everything goes to hell.
My father used to tell me something, back when I was younger and still believed the Vipers could be saved. He'd say that having a woman next to him didn't make him weaker, it made him stronger. That having someone to protect, a wife and eventually kids, made him go beyond his limits. Made him fight harder, push further, become more than he thought possible.
I didn't understand it then. Thought it was just romantic bullshit, the kind of thing people say to justify settling down.
But standing here with Ivy, feeling the way my entire body responds to her, the way my mind sharpens with the need to protect her, maybe I'm starting to understand. Maybe having Ivy will do the same for me. Will make me stronger, more focused, unkillable.
Or maybe that's just what I'm telling myself to justify doing what I want instead of what's right.
Either way, I'm done fighting it.
I place my hand on her face, thumb brushing across her cheek, and she tilts her head back. The gesture exposes the long line of her throat, and I can't resist.
I press my lips against her neck, kissing a path down to where her pulse flutters wildly. She gasps, her hands coming up to grip my shoulders, and the sound goes straight to my cock.
I kiss lower, along her collarbone, down to where her breasts curve beneath her shirt. I can see them clearly now. Soft and full, jiggling slightly each time she moves or breathes. I want to grip them, suck them, mark them as mine.
