Page 58 of Hearts on the Line

I tilt my hips, and his hand presses against my lower stomach, then an orgasm crashes over me.

I come hard, my mouth parted, gasping his name like a secret I’ve kept too long. And I guess I have.

“I’m not done yet.”

I crumple against the bed, my limbs still shaking, chasing after my breath. Trying to catch myself. Because I know what this is. What he could be.

“I can’t,” I whisper.

He chuckles, kissing his way up my stomach like he’s already won. Until I brace my hand against his chest.

“No,” I whisper, but my voice shakes. “I mean, we need to stop. Tonight.”

Because if I let him all the way in again, I won’t know how to leave. And if I stay, I might give him everything. And I’m only starting to figure out what that means.

Chapter 19

Ethan

It’s been a week since she told me to stop.

She doesn’t know what she wants, and I’m not about to push her. But that night lit something in me I can’t put out, no matter how many times I tell myself to leave it alone.

Now, Sloane is balanced on one foot at the kitchen sink, washing sand off the other when I walk in. Her sundress has ridden up her thigh, and I force myself to look away before I do something stupid like stare.

She glances over her shoulder when I come in. “I missed a spot in the outside shower.” Then, once she’s satisfied that her foot is clean, she tidies up the counter and spins to face me. “What are you doing?”

“I live here.”

“So do I.”

“You live here for the summer,” I correct. I get it’s an asshole thing to say, but it’s important I remind myself she’s leaving.

She scoffs. “You agreed.”

I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face.

She freezes, her eyes widening slightly, surprise flickering across her face.

“Finished up work on your car,” I say, dangling the keys from my finger. “Thought you might want to go for a drive.”

“You did?!” She shuts off the sink and does a funny one-legged dance. “Want to come with me?”

“I don’t have anything else going on. But if you’re planning an encore performance at Markey’s, I understand.”

She sticks her tongue out at me, and fuck if my eyes don’t drop to her mouth for a beat too long. I can’t seem to help myself.

“I’ll make sure I charge admission next time.”

“You’d make a killing with the tourists.”

I shrug, scratching the back of my neck. I catch her watching, her eyes tracking down my arm, lingering over my tattoos, and something hot flickers between us.

“Don’t have the time. I haven’t had a break in years,” I finish lamely.

Before she can say anything else—before I can dig myself deeper into this hole—I turn around and head for the door. “Come on, I need to run to the store too.”

“You’re bossy,” she grumbles, grabbing her sunglasses from the counter, and I can tell she’s hiding behind them.