Page 49 of Second Sin

It should make me step back.

I don't. If anything I lean into it.

My palms press to his chest, solid and warm beneath the fabric of his hoodie. His heart’s beating hard. Fast. Or maybe it’s mine. I can’t tell the difference anymore.

I look up at him—at that mouth I’ve tried too hard to forget.

My tongue darts out, wetting my lips without thinking.

God, I want him.

Right here in this hallway, with the music pulsing and the world still tilting. With every reason to walk away screaming in my head and my body screaming something else entirely.

All it would take is one step. One kiss. One mistake.

And I don’t know if I care enough to stop it.

A dark, raspy growl vibrates in his throat, those stormy eyes locked on mine. "You're drunk."

"So?"

His jaw tightens. His hand doesn’t move from my waist, but I feel the restraint in every muscle—like he’s holding himself back by sheer force of will.

“You’ll regret this,” he says roughly.

“I haven’t done anything,” I whisper, but it comes out thin. Unsteady.

His gaze flick to my mouth. Then back to my eyes. And it guts me.

That hunger. That ache. Thatdesperateneed buried under restraint.

“You’re telling me,” he murmurs, voice low and raw, “that if I leaned down right now and kissed you…you wouldn’t fall apart in my arms?”

A sound slips from me before I can stop it. A needy little moan caught at the back of my throat.

His eyes go molten.“Fuck.”

It’s not a curse. It’s a confession.

I can barely breathe. My fingers curl against his chest. Everything inside me is pulling toward him like gravity’s rewired itself.

His gaze darkens, his grip tightening just slightly. “You're fucking killing me, Olivia.”

"Why?"The word barely makes it past my lips. Soft. Fractured. Dangerous.

I know the line we’re toeing snapped somewhere behind us and neither of us stopped walking.

“If I kiss you, Olivia…” His voice is rough, wrecked. “I’m not stopping there.”

His hand skims up my side, fingers splayed like he’s already trying to memorize me. “I’ll want all of you.”

His breath brushes mine—hot, hungry, reverent.

“And I swear to God, I won’t be the reason you lose everything. Not because I can't keep my hands off you.”

His restraint is a live wire between us. Frayed. Sparking. One wrong move and we both go up in flames.

“It didn’t stop you before,” I say, too quietly.

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