Page 28 of Never To Forever

I nod. I can’t help myself, I reach up and brush my thumb along her chin. Her eyelids flutter and she leans into my touch. I swallow. This is dangerous. We’re playing with fire right now, but I can’t seem to resist.

The bar quiets down while the bartender stacks empty glasses as the last few patrons filter out. We continue to stare at each other in silence, oblivious to the room around us.

“I should probably go home,” she murmurs.

“I’ll walk you.”

She raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t protest. We stand and make our way out of the bar into the cool night. Side by side we walk, the quiet hum of the town surrounding us, the streets empty save for the occasional car passing by. We don’t talk, just let the tension sizzle between us, the sound of our footsteps mingling with the faint rustling of leaves in the breeze.

We pass by the old boutique that Marie’s mom left her. It’s closed now, but I can’t help but notice how her eyes linger on it. She always used to talk about opening it as a bookshop, and was so excited by the idea. The past few years, though, she’s talked about it less and less.

“Still thinking about the shop?” I ask, trying to keep my voice casual, but there’s an edge to it.

Marie shrugs. “I don’t know. I’ve got so many plans. So many things I want to do with it, but I don’t know if any of it’s going to happen.”

I slow my pace a little. “What do you mean?”

She glances over at me but quickly looks away.

“I don’t want to talk about it right now, okay?” The words come out soft, almost like a plea, and I don’t press her further. I’m burning with curiosity. What’s holding her back from opening the shop again if that’s what she wants?

“Alright,” I say quietly, matching her pace as we continue walking.

When we reach her house, she turns to face me, her cheeks flushed.

“Thanks for walking me home,” she says.

“No problem.”

The tension is palpable now. I can feel the heat of her, the way her eyes don’t quite meet mine, but linger just long enough for my heart to race.

She hesitates, then says, “You want to come inside for a bit?”

I swallow hard, the question hanging in the air like a dare—a temptation. It’s an invitation, plain and simple, but I know she’s not asking me in for a nightcap. A little voice in my head says I should leave. Tell her goodnight, turn around, and walk away before I do something I might regret.

However, an even louder voice urges me to go inside with her. To see where exactly this leads.

“Sure,” I say at length.

She gives me a small, almost shy smile and leads me to her front door. I stand behind her as she unlocks and opens it. Once we’re inside with the door closed again, I grab her hand and turn her around to face me. Her eyes go wide as she stares up at me and I cup the side of her face.

“Garrett…” she murmurs.

I cut her off, pressing my lips to hers in a gentle kiss. I take my time, handling her with care as I brush my fingertips across her cheek. She whimpers and wraps her arms around my neck, pressing her body tight against mine. I keep the pace slow, though. We’re both so emotionally raw and vulnerable, I don’t want to push too hard too fast.

Our tongues meet and explore as I reach down, cupping her ass and picking her up off the floor. Her legs wind around my waist and we continue to kiss as I walk through her house and make my way upstairs to her bedroom. The mixture of alcohol and desire heats my body and banishes away all hesitations and reservations I’ve been holding onto, and all I can think about is how good she tastes and how right she feels in my arms.

When we reach her bedroom, I set her back down and pull from our kiss. She gazes up at me, her eyes hooded and lips swollen from our kiss.

“I want you,” she says. “I want you more than anything.”

I take her face in both my hands and reply, “I want you too. More than I should.”

She frowns at that, but before she can say anything in response, I kiss her again. Reaching down, I grab the hem of her shirt and pull it up and over her head, tossing it aside. Her fingers fumble with the buttons of my shirt, and I help her undo them before shrugging out of it. Grabbing her waist, I pull her back against my body and kiss her like a starving man who’s been given a banquet.

I walk her backward to the bed and set her down on the edge of the mattress. Kneeling before her, I gaze up at her as I undo her jeans and tug them down her legs. She’s breathing heavily, her breasts moving up and down and nearly spilling out of her bra.

“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice breathy. I lift one of her legs and kiss the inside of her ankle and slowly move my way up her calf to her inner thigh.

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