Page 30 of New Year's Faye

A spark of heat flared in his eyes, and he kissed me again, deeper this time, his hands slipping under my dress, tracing patterns up my thigh that made me shiver. My fingers worked at the buttons of his shirt, desperate to feel more, to get closer, as the world outside the limo faded away, leaving only the two of us tangled together in a feverish haze of need.

“Are you really angry?” I gasped as he kissed his way down my neck.

“Yes. I’m angry you defended me when all I wanted to do was kiss you and I had no fucking right.” His head lifted, his lips capturing mine in a hungry, desperate kiss.

I moaned into his mouth, groaning as our tongues tangled, deep hot and wet. He kissed like he was starving, desperate to devour me whole.

I liked it. A lot.

I barely registered as the car slowed to a stop. A faint knock on the privacy window shattered our spell. We both froze, breathing heavily, our bodies pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync. The driver cleared his throat from the other side of the partition.

"We’ve arrived," he called, voice muffled but unmistakably amused.

I looked at Sam, lips swollen, his hair mussed from where my fingers had run through it. His eyes met mine, dark with desireand a trace of something else, something softer, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

Reluctantly, he let his hands drop, adjusting his shirt with a rueful smile. "Guess we’ll have to pick this up later."

"Guess so." I gave him a small, breathless smile.

“Faye, don’t defend me unless you want to be kissed like that again.” He ran his thumb over my lower lip. “I don’t have it in me to resist you.”

For a woman who built her life on words—I found myself suddenly speechless.

I stared at Sam, chest heaving, lips swollen from our frantic kiss. My skin tingled everywhere he’d touched me, and his words,“I don’t have it in me to resist you,”played on loop in my head.

What the fuck? What the actual fuck?

I scrambled, trying to slot this into some logical framework. We’d been arguing, practically spitting fire at each other, and then he’d kissed me. No—wehad kissed, and not some safe, chaste kiss like we’d planned for the cameras. This was raw, consuming, everything I’d been holding back, everything I’d told myself wasn’t allowed to feel. I had never felt so stripped bare, so exposed.

I didn’t know how to process the mess of emotions swirling inside me. I raised my fingertips to my lips, a shiver of disbelief at the way he’d kissed me rocketing down my spine.

He’d kissed me like he was claiming me, branding me. And the most terrifying part? I’d wanted him to. I’d been all in, letting myself sink into that moment, giving as good as I got.

I glanced at him, adjusting his shirt beside me with that maddening half-smile, and felt the urge to reach out, to pull him back to me, to taste him again, consequences be damned. But this time, it wasn’t just lust or attraction—it was the weight of everything we’d been through, every unspoken word, every quietnight working late, every time he’d known what I needed before I’d even asked. And it felt too big, too real, to keep at arm’s length any longer.

This is insane,I told myself, forcing a deep breath.He’s your best friend. Don’t complicate this.

But I couldn’t help but remember the way he’d looked at me, that fierce, unguarded intensity in his gaze, the way he’d called me his wife like it meant something—like he wanted it to mean something.

“Ready?” He asked, one hand on the door.

“I…” I hesitated, searching for some way to brush this off, to keep things simple. To kill the emotions we’d awakened. But the words died on my tongue.

I sucked in a breath, nodding silently.

Subdued, we climbed out of the limo and re-entered the real world, but I knew we’d crossed a line. One that wouldn’t be easily uncrossed.

Damn.

6

SAM

I watch you in the quiet,

like a ghost I can’t let go,

Caught up in your light,

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