Page 114 of Hard Pass

His eyes stay closed but his brows lift. “Really?”

“Quality fabric. I’m guessing it cost more than my car payment.”

He chuckles. “Not quite.”

“Close enough.”

“Looks better on you anyway,” he says.

I lean down and brush my lips against his before I think better of it. An action that screams this is so much more than a fling, but I don’t stop myself.

It’s soft and not meant to turn into anything, but it does anyway.

Because his hand is at the back of my neck, pulling me back into him, his mouth finding mine with a slow, warm certainty that makes my chest tighten in a way I have no business loving as much as I do.

I can deny it all I want, but this isn’t just physical anymore.

We shift as the kiss deepens, like we’ve already learned each other. It feels far too intimate for a situation that I’ve tried to justify as temporary.

His hands slide to my hips and with an ease that shouldn’t be possible, he pulls me over him so I’m straddling his lap.

The kiss stays slow, unhurried, like neither of us wants to rush what this is becoming. I fall under his spell, the taste of wine on his tongue and the scratch of his stubble beneath my palms are drugs in and of themselves. And then when he unclips my hair so his fingers can dive into it, I’m completely his.

Smitten. Taken. Desired.

It’s temptation and indulgence in a way I’ve never allowed myself to have before.

I pull back, needing to see him, needing to know if this is just me. His eyes stay closed for a beat longer than mine and when they open, they’re darker and focused on me.

Our gazes hold as his hands slide up my sides, taking the hem of his shirt with them, lifting it slowly, like he’s giving me time to stop.

I don’t.

The fabric clears my head, and the cool air hits my skin.

His gaze drops and the sound he makes—low, rough, guttural—releases a thrill deep inside of me. “So fucking gorgeous.”

Everything narrows to him. To this. To his hands cupping my breasts.

“Dublin . . .” he whispers.

I arch my back into the heat of his hands, into the pull of Cole Valor. I don’t understand it, but I also don’t want to stop.

I don’t want to think or analyze or predict or control.

All I want is to feel.

And right now, with him, that feels like enough.

Even if I know better. Even if I should resist.

My fingers tighten in his hair as I lean into him, letting everything else fall away.

Consequences. Rules. Reality. All of it.

Just for this moment.

Just for him.