Page 69 of New Year's Faye

"And graphs," I added. "Don't forget the graphs."

"Never." He kissed my nose. "They're my favorite part."

And somehow, that was the most romantic thing he could have said.

His next kiss was different—deeper, hungrier. The kind of kiss that made PowerPoints and presentations seem very far away. I pressed closer, feeling his heart race under my palm as his hands slid down my back.

"We should..." I gasped as his mouth found my neck. "The presentation..."

"Later." His voice was rough against my skin. "Right now I need..."

"What?"

He pulled back, his eyes dark and earnest. "You. Just you. No plans, no pretending. Just us."

Something inside me melted. "Sam..."

"Tell me to stop."

I wound my fingers in his hair, pulling him back to me. "Don't you dare."

His hands found the zipper of my dress as mine worked on his shirt buttons. Every touch felt charged, important. This wasn't like the desperate heat of the elevator. This was slower, sweeter, but somehow more intense.

Because this time we weren't pretending.

This time we weren't running.

This time we were choosing this. Choosing us.

"You're thinking too much," he murmured, pressing kisses along my collarbone.

"I'm always thinking too much."

His laugh vibrated against my skin. "I know. It's one of the things I love about you."

He backed me toward the small bed in the corner of his trailer, laying me down with a gentleness that made my heart ache.

"You're beautiful," he whispered, looking at me like I was something precious. "So damn beautiful."

I reached for him, needing him closer. Needing to show him with touch what I couldn't say with words. His skin was warm under my hands, familiar from years of careful distance, new with permission to explore.

When he finally moved over me, his weight a perfect anchor, something settled in my chest. Like coming home. Like finding something I hadn't known I was missing.

"Faye?" His voice was soft, uncertain.

"Yes?"

"I've loved you for so long."

I pulled him down to me, letting my body say what my heart had been too scared to admit. Let myself get lost in the feel of him, in the sounds he made, in the way he whispered my name like a prayer.

For once, I didn't try to control anything.

Didn't try to plan.

Just felt.

Just loved.