Page 92 of Twins for Three Bad Boys

I lower my head, my mouth near her ear.

“You’re not being careful right now,” I murmur.

“I’m tired of being careful.”

The song stretches on, but the bar noise fades into background hum. All I’m aware of is the way her breath brushes my neck and her fingers slowly curl into the fabric at my shoulders.

She tilts her face up.

“You gonna kiss me,” she asks quietly, “or are you gonna keep pretending you’re not thinking about it?”

I don’t pretend.

I kiss her.

It starts measured, but the second her mouth opens under mine, a deeper part of me answers. My hand slides up her spine, fingers spreading between her shoulder blades, pulling her closer.

She makes a small sound, surprised, breathless, and grips me harder.

The chemistry is immediate, overwhelming.

Her body molds against mine, not bracing anymore. Her fingers slide up into my hair, tugging lightly. That almost undoes me. Everything narrows to heat and breath and the way she presses into me, choosing this with her whole body.

I pull back just enough to look at her.

Her lips are flushed. Eyes dark.

Hungry.

“So,” I murmur, “is this still just a dance?”

She doesn’t answer with words.

She pulls me back down.

The second kiss isn’t measured or careful. It’s heat and breath and the sharp slide of her mouth against mine.

My hand slides down her waist, grips her hip, not testing anymore, holding. She arches into it, and that small shift of her body against mine nearly snaps what’s left of my restraint.

We’re still in The Mile Marker, still surrounded by people.

And I’m one second away from forgetting that.

I break the kiss, breathing hard. “June.”

She looks up at me, a little dazed. “Yeah?”

“If we stay in here,” I say quietly, “I’m going to stop caring who’s watching.”

A slow smile curves her mouth. “Then maybe we shouldn’t stay in here.”

That’s all it takes.

I take her hand and lead her off the floor, nodding once to Tess as we pass. Tess’s eyes flick over us, sharp and knowing, but she doesn’t say a word—small-town courtesy.

Outside, the night hits cooler, cleaner. Not freezing. Just enough to make skin more aware of every inch of contact.

The alley behind The Mile Marker is half shadow, half fog. One dim security light hums overhead. June laughs softly when the cold brushes her bare arms.