Page 126 of Always Be an Us

She attempts to walk past me, but I take her wrist. "A security system is going to be installed tomorrow. You can go then."

"I didn't ask you to install a security system."

"Well too damn bad. I'm getting us one anyway."

"Fine."

Her anger has a responding heat flaring up inside me, but I tamp it down. I need her to understand something before she goes. "I care about you, Emma. You know that right?"

"You care about me?" She smirks. "You can't even say the actual word, can you?"

"I told you I can't fall in love."

"You're being a coward."

I pull her closer, put my forehead on hers.

"I feel something for you, Emma." I finally admit. "I won't deny it. But love –"

"You feel something for me?" She cuts me off mercilessly. "Amazing. Is that supposed to make me happy and dance for joy?"

"No, it's supposed to...shit, I don't know."

She smiles bitterly. "Yeah. Me either."

And she tries to extract her hand, but I'm filled with a sudden desperate need to get keep her close.

So I draw her back to me and kiss her.

I don't know what I meant to do with that kiss. It was probably supposed to be a goodbye kiss, one last taste before I let her go forever.

But that's not what it turns into.

It turns into a desperate plea.

I'm not sure who dials it up, but suddenly her arms are around my neck, and her lips move in between mine, sucking my lower lip hard. I groan and kiss her back just as ferociously, burying my hands in her hair, emotions flying between and through us.

I should stop but I can't.

Stopping might mean the end of us.

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Emma

Making out has never been like this before.

I only know tender lovemaking and the semi-awkward fumbling that mostly occurred in my teenage years.

And even with Declan, when we were rushed and harried, desperate for each other, every move was always gentled by the strict control he had over himself.

But it’s clear that right now, Declan is currently all the way out of control.

I can tell from the way his hand tightens in my hair, his lips devouring my mouth, his body pressing against mine like he wants to be inside me.

He groans and mutters, ‘"Fuck. I can’t help myself. I can’t fucking help myself around you."

But rather than scare me, his intensity excites me. It incites an animalistic urge inside me that has me nipping and biting his lips, crying out for more when he squeezes my hair harder and pulls my head back so he can attack my neck with more suckling kisses.

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