Page 110 of Beyond the Lines
Jump or retreat, but either way, nothing will be the same again.
Chris’s face flashes in my mind.
Then Mike’s.
Then I think of Em’s voice:No pain, no gain.
I decide
“No risk it, no biscuit,” I say, softly, then look up at him and smile. “Isn’t that what you meatheads say?”
I grab his face and crush my mouth to his.
For a split second, he freezes—then his arms wrap aroundme, lifting me off the floor as he pushes us into my room. He kisses me like he’s drowning and I’m oxygen, whereas I hold onto him like he’s the last thing keeping me from falling into the abyss. It’s desperate and hungry and so goddamn perfect.
When we stop, breath ragged, he presses his forehead to mine. “Is Em home?”
“No,” I manage to gasp out as he puts me down.
“Good.” He closes the door shut behind him. “We need privacy.”
“Why?” My voice is impossibly small. I’ve decided, but I’m still afraid.
He pulls back, cupping my face in his hands. “Because I’m taking what’s mine.”
“Bed,” I say, backing up and hooking my fingers in his belt loops to drag him with me.
He doesn’t need to be told twice. He follows, and we shed clothing as we go. By the time we’re to the bed, we’re both naked, and I fall back onto my mattress, and he comes down on top of me, his weight delicious and solid, dependable and safe?—”
“You’re sure?” he whispers against my lips, even as he’s naked on top of me. “Because if we do this?—”
“Thank you for being so considerate, but I’m sure,” I cut him off. “I’m so sure I feel like I might combust if you don’t touch me now.”
He groans, capturing my mouth in a kiss that makes me see stars—real ones, not the stupid plastic glow-in-the-dark kind on my ceiling. His hand skims up my side, cupping my breast, thumb brushing over my nipple. I arch into his touch, gasping.
“Do you have any idea,” he murmurs against my neck, “how many times I’ve thought about this over the past few weeks?”
I dig my nails into his back, scraping them down the warm skin. “Show me, Declan, please.”
His eyes meet mine, and there’s vulnerability there alongside the desire. Not just lust—something deeper. Something that terrifies me and thrills me in equal measure. But it’s different from the times I’ve been with someone else, because I know if I asked him to stop, or told him exactly what I need, he’d comply.
“I will,” he promises, his voice rough. “All night if you’ll let me.”
As his lips trail down my body, I close my eyes. For the first time since Europe, since Chris, I’m not thinking about what could go wrong. I’m not remembering past pain or anticipating future heartbreak or making some excuse to pull away from something scary.
I’m just here, with Declan, letting myself fall.
And it feels like flying.
twenty-three
LEA
Declan setsmy world on fire as his lips trail down my neck, making me wonder why I ever denied myself. He touches me like I’m made of glass. It’s sweet, but after weeks of trying to forget him, of convincing myself this was a mistake, I don’t want careful.
I want him to consume me.
My hands slide down his muscled back, feeling the way his muscles shift beneath my palms, and I tug him closer, grinding my hips against his. He groans against my skin, the vibration sending shivers down my spine. But still, he’s slow and a little hesitant.
