Page 117 of Hold Me Until Morning

The second I set it free, he had one arm wound around my waist and the other gripped onto the back of my neck as he pulled me flush against him.

Gold-flecked eyes danced in the muted light, a second of searching before he murmured, “I don’t want to fucking pretend that I don’t want you, Hailey. Don’t want to pretend like there isn’t something more to this.”

There was no hesitation after that. His mouth crushed against mine, urgent and as desperate as I felt.

This kiss? It was fevered.

He spun me and spun me, never breaking that kiss as we fumbled our way across the living room and kitchen toward my bedroom, hands gripping and mouths searching and hearts thrumming.

We banged through the opening, and the second we made it inside my room, he pressed me to the wall next to the door.

I gasped against his lips.

A hand weaved into my hair that earlier I’d let free of its braid, and he tugged my head back as he pulled back for a beat.

Hunger blazed in his eyes.

It left no question I was about to be devoured.

I wanted it. I wanted to be consumed. Consumed in a way I’d never been before. In a way I knew only this man could do.

“Fuck me, Shortcake. What have you done?” Cody grated it as he reached out and quietly shut the door with a soft snick.

Glancing at me, he flipped the lock. The tiny metallic sound bounced through the room like a promise.

A covenant.

Inciting.

Provoking.

Instigating a disruption that couldn’t be contained.

He dove back for me, and his tongue stroked into my mouth to lick against mine.

It was a tangle of greed.

A snaring of lust.

Desire sparked with each crucial lash, a life-beat that spread through my body and pumped through my blood.

I drove my fingers into his soft, damp hair, and I hung on as he kissed me into oblivion.

As reality fell away and the only thing that mattered was this moment.

“Cody.”

“I’ve got you, darlin’,” he rumbled into the manic kiss, my feet barely touching the ground because I was already floating away.

I wanted to feel him everywhere, and I searched him in the shadows of my room, palms riding over his shoulders, fingertips exploring his chest, his stomach, his hips. I dragged them back up his thick throat so I could explore the lines of his rugged, handsome face.

Tracing.

Touching.

Memorizing.

The way I’d wanted to do from the first time I’d seen him. The way I’d felt the impact of his presence like a thunderclap.

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