Page 55 of Wreckage

I saw how his expression continued to shift, his jaw tightened, and his gaze darkened with something I didn’t understand.

“Amanda doesn’t matter,” he said, his voice flat. He sounded almost…angry.

Then he moved like he was about to turn away from me.

I didn’t even think before I reached for him, my fingers wrapping around his wrist. It was a move that surprised even me.

I kissed him again.

I didn’t know where the bravery came from. I didn’t understand why I was suddenly acting without thinking. But the second my lips met his, Troy responded, falling into the kiss with wild abandon.

His fingers laced into my hair, his grip tighter, more desperate. He pulled me closer, swallowing the small gasp that escaped me as the kiss deepened, turning hotter and more frantic with each breath shared between us.

I felt his tongue slide against mine, and my body shuddered at the foreign sensation, heat pooling in places I had never experienced before.

Troy’s arms wrapped around me, shifting me beneath the blankets, his body pressing against mine, his hand skimming the curve of my waist as he pulled me flush against him.

I let him.

I was helpless in all the feelings and emotions pouring through my body. At that moment, I wanted what he wanted, whatever that may be.

I pressed a shaky hand against his hard chest, feeling the warmth of his skin through his shirt.

His lips traveled down, brushing against my jaw and throat, leaving a trail of scorching heat in their wake.

And then, in the haze of everything swallowing us, he murmured between our breathless kisses, “Have you ever been with anyone before?”

The question snapped me out of my daze, and I stilled.

My fingers trembled against his chest as I slowed the kiss and completely pulled away from him.

I hesitated before whispering, “No.”

Troy frozen. His breathing was still heavy, his lips still so close to mine.

Then, slowly, he pulled back completely, his eyes searching mine as something new flickered in his expression.

He went up on one arm, hovering over me as his fingers tilted my face toward his.

His green eyes burned into mine.

Then, so softly, it made my stomach twist, he whispered, “I don’t know why I fucking like that so much.”

Before I could even process his words, he kissed me again.

This time, it was slower, hotter, and fiercer. It was like he wanted to take his time and prove that he was now the owner of everything regarding me.

And I let him.

I let myself get lost in him all over again, allowing him to pull me under this new, uncharted territory I had no business trying to navigate.

He was my brother.

Step-brother, a soft voice argued in my mind.

Eventually, the kisses slowed until we lay there, facing each other, talking.

The tension in my body faded as Troy asked me question after question, his fingers occasionally tracing soft patterns against my skin.

---