Page 80 of From the Wreckage
The world narrows to this moment—her body pressed to mine, the taste of her lips, the way her pulse thrums wildly against my tongue when I trail kisses down her throat.
Somewhere in the haze, I fumble my phone out of my pocket, music spilling low and scratchy through the speaker. A half-formed thought takes hold. I tug her toward the center of the dock, sliding one arm around her waist.
Her brows lift, and her voice is breathless. “You’re dancing with me, and it’s not even raining?”
“Yeah,” I rasp, swaying with her in my arms. “Don’t laugh.”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.” Her smile trembles, radiant in the moonlight.
We sway awkwardly at first, my boots clumsy against the planks, her slippers tapping against the wood. But then her head rests against my chest, her fingers knotting in my shirt, and it stops being awkward. It becomes something else. Something so achingly right it terrifies me.
I press my lips to the crown of her head, breathing her in. “If your dad knew?—”
“He doesn’t.” Her voice is fierce, muffled against me. “He won’t find out.”
He won’t find out. The words lodge inside my head, dangerous and inevitable.
Because one day, he will. And when that day comes, this will burn.
But tonight? I’m going to enjoy every moment with her.
CHAPTER 56
Everett
By the timethe music dies and the moon dips lower, something stirs inside my chest. Something I can’t fight anymore. I’ve fallen in love with her.
Brielle scaled the walls around my heart, tore them down, and slipped inside. She’s in my blood, my bones, my fucking DNA… and my soul.
There’s no coming back from this.
I should tell her to go back to her cabin, lock her door, and forget me. I should protect her from what’s coming, spare her the pain I know I’ll cause.
But when she whispers my name against my throat, soft and sure, I lose the fight.
“Come with me,” I rasp, my voice rougher than I intend.
I tug on her hand, leading her down the dock and across the clearing. My cabin looms ahead, dark and quiet, the shadows swallowing us whole. Every nerve in my body screams this is wrong and reckless. It’s the point of no return.
Sure, we’ve been together before—but tonight feels different. Even the air hums with it, like the world knows that bringing her to my bed tonight will tilt everything on its axis.
And still, I open the door.
She hesitates on the threshold, her chest rising and falling fast. As if she feels it too—that tonight is unlike any night before.
Then she steps inside.
The air shifts, becoming heavy and electric.
I don’t remember closing the door, but the click of the lock is final. My back hits the wall, her mouth on mine until my lips sting and hers are swollen. And I still can’t get enough.
My hands roam, greedy and trembling, memorizing every curve, every gasp, every soft sound that shatters me from the inside out.
“Brielle…” Her name breaks from me like a prayer.
She cups my face, her eyes burning in the dark. “Don’t stop.”
I carry her to my bed, every piece of me unraveling as I lay her down. Her fingers clutch at me like she’s afraid I’ll vanish.
