Page 90 of Forged By Sacrifice

“I don’t think you need a speechwriter, after all,” she said quietly.

“What?”

“When you speak from your heart, your words are beautiful.”

And that was all it took. I broke. I took her lips with mine. It was just like both times we’d kissed before. All stormy seas and wells of passion bubbling over into feelings I’d never had for any other woman.

This was not anything I could have survived easily. It was going to take months to rebuild myself if and when we were done. But I couldn’t duck under the bridge out of the wake of the storm any longer. I wanted to stand in the eye. I wanted it to take over. I wanted to succumb. I had to give in to the beauty and the depths of her. I had to hope there would be an us when the storm passed.

Georgie

DRESS

“Our secret moments in a crowded room

They've got no idea about me and you,

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo.”

Performed by Taylor Swift

Written by Swift / Antonoff

Mac was kissing me as if there was nothing left in the world but us. As if the world had stopped. And it felt like it had. There was a deep pool of emotions between us now. It wasn’t just lust. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was life springing up anew. Passion and sin and hope all tangled together in a way that I knew wasn’t going to last but to which I couldn’t say no. I wanted this just like I’d wanted it each time he’d kissed me.

I’d thought that, like Descartes, the more he kissed me, the less impact it would have on me. The more reality would fly in between the dreamlike senses. But these kisses weren’t less. They were more. Deeper. Those first kisses had brought our lives closer together, but this kiss was wrapping invisible strings around us. Strings that would be difficult to unbind. Strings that would find their way into my heart where I didn’t want them but where I knew they would tear a hole if and when he pulled away.

It wasn’t until the limo stopped that Mac withdrew his lips from mine. He caressed the side of my face with a gentle hand and then twined our hands together as the driver opened our door. He stared at me for a minute. Trying to read me. Or maybe trying to read himself. The driver cleared his throat, and Mac turned away.

I felt like I’d just lost something. Opportunity. Hope. I didn’t know what, but I followed as Mac helped me out of the vehicle. We were quiet on our way up to the apartment. There were things I wanted to say but didn’t know how to start.

Mac opened the door, throwing keys and wallet and phone on the counter. I placed my evening bag there as well. When I did, he captured my hand with his and pulled me toward him. I collided against his chest. His wall of muscle.

“I’m not sure I can stop kissing you yet,” he said quietly, his already deep voice going down several notches more and sending goosebumps across my flesh.

I said, “Dani thinks we should just do it and get it out of our system.”

He looked at me, eyes hooded for a second, as he took in my words, then his lips quirked at the corners as he tried not to smile. “What are we, sixteen?”

I smiled weakly back at him. “I think she just meant that trying not to feel anything for each other is just enhancing the emotions. Like anticipation. Blowing it all out of proportion.”

“Please don’t use that word,” he groaned.

“Blowing?” I teased, and his eyes sparkled at my dare. He ran a finger down my cheek, to my neck, over my shoulders, and then down my back where the dress dipped, leaving the skin bare. My flesh—that had already been on alert—ached everywhere he touched.

“Do you think she’s right?” he asked.

My hand went from his chest, where I’d been balancing myself, to my hair that suddenly felt tight in the updo I’d swirled it into earlier as Dani had watched, amazed, until I’d reminded her that I’d been a hairdresser for more years than I’d been anything else.

“Maybe…I don’t know,” I answered, pulling the pins loose and watching with pleasure when Mac’s eyes darkened as my hair spilled about my neck and breasts. His hand at the back of my waist tightened, and the other hand came up to tangle in my dark waves, wrapping them around his fingers and then pulling so that I was forced to inch my face toward his.

“Maybe we should find out? Dani is rarely wrong.” He kissed my jawline, inching slowly down toward my neck, and I couldn’t help but tilt my face upward, granting him better access. His breath and kisses in the little curve where my jaw met my ear were heated, melting my nerves and my knees.

“Rarely isn’t never,” I managed to say in a voice that wavered. I knew he’d heard the quivering, but he didn’t stop his kisses. His attack on my senses. He moved lower down my neck until he was placing kisses at the juncture of my neck and my shoulder—another tender spot—filling my body with desire by a touch and a caress.

“What’s the worst that could happen?” he murmured.

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