“Lock the door.”
5
COLLIN
The door didn’t lock.
Fuck if I cared.
Paget was standing there looking at me like she already belonged to me. Like she knew I was about to do something I’d never done before—kiss a woman I wasn’t supposed to touch.
And still…I couldn’t stop.
I waited. Gave her a second. Gave myself a second. Hell, maybe I was stalling, hoping she’d change her mind so I wouldn’t have to be the one to do the right thing.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t waver. Just stepped toward me, her chest brushing mine, soft and warm and tempting as hell.
“I’m not going to run,” she whispered.
That did something to me. Lit a fuse I’d been pretending wasn’t there since the second I saw her on that damn cliffside.
I lifted a hand to her cheek, then slid it to the back of her neck. Jesus, she was warm. Skin like satin under my palm, breath catching just slightly as I touched her. She leaned in like she’d been waiting on it all damn day.
“You sure you’re ready for this?” I asked, even though I already knew the answer.
She nodded, eyes locked on mine. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”
Fuck me.
I dipped my head, letting my forehead rest against hers for a second. Just breathing her in. She smelled like sunshine and salt and something a little wild. Like the mountains had been waiting for her.
I wanted to savor it. Stretch it out until I couldn’t anymore.
So I took it slowly. Just a brush of my lips over hers, soft and steady. She let out the tiniest sound, and damn if that didn’t make my grip tighten at her nape. My other hand found her waist, pulling her flush against me, and I felt her melt into the contact.
She kissed me back like she meant it. Like she wasn’t just here for the thrill or the adventure or the story.
She kissed me like she wanted me.
And I was fucked. Because I wanted her too. Not just her body—which, yeah, was driving me insane—but the way she looked at me. The way she laughed. The way she made everything feel just a little less heavy.
Her hands fisted in my shirt, dragging me closer. I deepened the kiss before I could stop myself. Still careful, still slow, but no longer holding back.
I could feel her heart pounding through her chest. Could feel mine trying to keep up.
She shifted against me, and I couldn’t help the low groan that escaped my throat. I wanted her. Bad. But I wanted it to be good for her. Better than good. I wanted to ruin her for anyone else.
I already knew I wasn’t walking away from this unchanged. And I had the sinking feeling I didn’t want to.
She was still kissing me like she’d never get tired of it—and I was quickly learning I didn’t want her to stop. Her fingers moved from the hem of my shirt up to my chest, smoothing over the cotton, then curling in like she didn’t know what to do with how badly she wanted more.
I did.
I pulled back just enough to look at her. Her lips were kiss-swollen, her eyes glassy with heat, her chest rising and falling like she was running on adrenaline.
“I want to see you,” I said roughly.
She nodded, no hesitation. My hands dropped to the hem of her shirt. I waited. She lifted her arms, letting me peel it off her like it was the most natural thing in the world.