Page 93 of Between Here and There

Before I can think any more, he deepens the kiss, and everything falls away. The world shrinks to just the two of us, and I feel the heat of his body pressing against mine, the urgency of his touch turning into something more desperate, more consuming. And then we’re moving as we kiss. We turn and my back hits the counter.

He picks me up and places me on the kitchen counter as his kisses travel from my mouth to my neck. My body reacts before my mind can even catch up. I wrap my legs around him to pull him closer. I hear his soft grunt of approval, his hands gripping my thighs, as though he’s afraid I might slip away. But I don’t want to go anywhere. I want him here, with me, right now.

We continue kissing, messy and sloppy, but beautiful in its rawness, as though we’re both trying to say everything we’ve been holding back through touch alone. His hands roam, his lips never leaving mine, and then, suddenly, he hoists me up. I’m still wrapped around him—my legs around his waist, my arms around his neck, holding on for dear life as he moves with purpose.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this,” he says, his voice low, laced with the same desire that’s building between us. His words make my heart race even faster. I can feel his hands gripping my back, my butt, lifting me with ease as he walks us down the hall. We reach the door to his bedroom, and without missing a beat, he opens it with one hand, still holding me up with the other.

“This is your bedroom,” I say, breathless from the intensity of it all, my voice barely above a whisper.

“Very good observation, Em,” he chuckles, but there’s no humor in it—just raw, heated desire. His fingers tighten around me, and I know he’s just as caught up in this as I am.

“You don’t take girls to your bedroom,” I say, my voice unsteady, but there’s a challenge in it.

“Correction,” he says, his lips curling into that dangerous grin I’ve come to love. We’re standing at the foot of his bed now, and he drops me gently onto it, the softness of the sheets against my back making me feel all the more aware of how vulnerable I am. “I don’t take girls who aren’t you.”

And just like that, the walls I’ve been holding up for so long crumble. There’s no more pretending. There’s no more hesitation. It’s just me, him, and… whatever this is.

Joshua’s eyes darken as he watches me, the air between us charged with a tension that feels electric. I can feel my pulse quicken as he moves closer, his lips just inches from mine, his breath warm against my skin. Every inch of me is alive, humming with anticipation, but he stops.

“Are you sure about this?” he asks as he looks at me, his voice low, laced with something that’s almost like fear, but it’s wrapped in tenderness. “Don’t get me wrong, this is all I’ve ever wanted, but I don’t want to rush you. I want to be sure… that you’re not just here because of the moment.”

I nod, swallowing the lump in my throat, my fingers trembling as I touch his chest, “I’m sure,” I say softly.

A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth, a slow, knowing smile that sends a shiver down my spine. “Good,” he murmurs, before closing the gap between us.

He groans, a low, deep sound that sends a thrill straight through me. His hands slip under my shirt, fingers grazing the soft skin of my waist, sending sparks of heat through my body. I arch into him, my hands desperately tugging at his shirt, wanting to feel all of him, to lose myself in him.

“Emily…” he breathes, his voice thick with desire. He lifts his head to look at me, and in his eyes, I see something raw that only makes me want him more. “You’re so beautiful.”

I roll my eyes. “You say that all the time,” I say.

“And I mean it every single time,” he says, no hesitation, no doubt, just honesty. The intensity in his voice makes my pulse race. I smile, unable to hold back any longer, my fingers threading through his hair. I pull him back down to me, our mouths crashing together with all the need I’ve kept bottled up for so long.

The world outside dissolves. There’s no room for doubt, for hesitation—just us, lost in each other, drowning in the heat, the longing, the passion that’s been building, simmering, waiting to ignite.

His lips break away from mine, trailing down my jawline and my neck, sending sparks through my body. He moves lower, his lips brushing over my collarbone, featherlight but enough to leave me gasping. His hands are everywhere—steady, exploring, igniting fires wherever they touch.

When his mouth finds the curve of my shoulder, I shiver, arching into him. And then lower still, his lips marking a slow path down my stomach. The sensation of his warm breath against my skin is electric, and I can’t help but gasp, a soft sound that makes him pause, his eyes flicking up to meet mine.

“You okay?” he murmurs, his voice husky but concerned.

I nod, biting my lip, my fingers tangling in the sheets beneath me. “Mhm,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He grins, a slow, wicked smile that sends a thrill through me. His hands skim down my sides, gentle yet commanding, his touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. My breath hitches as he presses a kiss just above the waistband of my underwear, his lips lingering, teasing.

“You ready?” he asks, his voice low and raspy, his breath warm against my skin.

“For what?” I manage to ask, propping myself up on one elbow to look down at him. The sight of him there, between me and the rest of the world, steals what little composure I have left.

He doesn’t answer with words. Instead, he gives me that playful, Olympic wink, the one that makes my heart stutter and my body melt. And then, in mere seconds, all the pieces of clothing are on the floor, and I can’t think. I can barely breathe. All I know is the feel of his hands on my skin, his lips following, and the way he makes me feel like I’m unraveling and whole all at once.

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Joshua

Wow.

Here I am, lying in my own bed. The one place I never, ever brought another person before. It’s not that I didn’t want to, exactly. It’s just that my bed has always been my sanctuary, the place where I rest, where I retreat to be alone. Where I exist, uninterrupted. I’ve always considered it sacred—somehow personal in a way that felt beyond sharing. I used to think that bringing someone here meant giving them access to everything about me, and it felt like an incredible level of intrusion.

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