Page 21 of Bring Me Back
She steps back one tiny step. She’s testing me. Daring me. Maybe hoping I’ll prove her right, that all men are the same and take what they want without a second thought.
I don't move.
I won’t cross that line unless she drags me over it. Her voice will never be silenced again in my world.
Then she says it. Low, raw, and ruined.
“Fuck it.” She’s on me like she’s starved for something she doesn’t know how to ask for. And I give it to her. All of it. The hunger. The violence. The softness buried under sharp edges, hers and mine. My hand knots in her soft hair, her mouth crashing into mine like she’s trying to forget every time she told herself she didn’t want this. Didn’t want me.
I warned her. I really did.
But now? There’s no turning back.
She’s mine. And I’m never letting her go.
thirteen
Holy fuck.Holy. Fucking. Shit.
I’m kissing Beckett again. And Beckett is kissing the hell out of me. I’m in the twilight zone right now, I swear. This is not happening.
Why did I fight this for so long? Why did I tell him no?
I had to know if that first kiss was just a fluke. If I had known kissing Beckett was always going to feel like this…
I still would have refused him. I would still have built walls around my heart so high he could barely see past them. Because that’s who I am, it’s who I’ve always been. But I don’t want to be that girl anymore. I want to be the woman he sees in me every time he turns his hazel gaze to mine. I refuse to be anyone else anymore.
His kiss is demanding, taking every ounce of everypossible thing I’m willing to give him. He’s slow and deliberate, every move methodical. Like he’s got nowhere else to be and nothing else to do in this lifetime but make sure his lips are tattooed onto mine. As if I could ever forget this feeling. As if the feeling of his lips on mine won’t be burned into my DNA for the rest of my life.
This kiss is not gentle. It’s hunger, years of restraint from both of us melting in a moment. I gasp against him, my lungs screaming for air, my fingers twisting in his shirt, dragging him closer like I’ve been starving for this and nothing else will ever satisfy that hunger.
He presses my back against the nearest wall, hands tangled in my hair, my scalp stinging as he pulls my head exactly where he wants me to be. His breath whispers across my lips between shallow kisses.
“Tell me to stop, Willow.” He growls, his lips trailing down my neck. He bites the sensitive flesh where my shoulder meets my neck, and a whimper escapes my throat. Electricity shoots straight to my core, lighting up parts of my body I thought were long since dead.
“Don’t you dare,” I mumble, breathless and wrecked. If I wasn’t already ruined for any other man by the delicate way he cares for me every day, this would push me over the edge.
Our kiss deepens, raw, desperate, perfect in its ferocity. Everything outside this room could fall apart. Maybe it already has. But here in this kitchen, something realburrows deep into my chest for the first time in my life. I want to give this man everything I have to give. My heart, my soul, my mind, my body, everything. I want to reveal my deepest, darkest secrets to him and never go back to hiding again.
His kiss is not soft. It’s combustion, an inferno. It’s a confession silently spoken. His hand is in my hair, the control he’s demanding is such a different feeling than the way I’ve been controlled before. My nails scrape down his spine through his shirt, and he hisses into my mouth. His rough hands trail down the curves of my body, exploring every inch of me.
“Beckett. I’ve wanted this for so long,” I say, breathless and panting.
“Say the word, and I’ll never stop. I’ll spend the rest of eternity making sure you’re kissed exactly the way you deserve to be kissed, pretty girl.” He whispers, goosebumps trailing down my arms.
And just when he’s about to deepen the kiss, just as I lean toward him, finally surrendering something I never thought I would give away again…
The front door closes quicker than we can process.
“What the fuck is this?” Jaxon’s voice cuts through the haze in my mind, snapping me out of the lust-induced coma. I push Beck off of me, instantly missing the warmth of his body against mine.
“Jax! What are you-” I ask, but he cuts me off.
“Fuck what I’m doing, what the fuck are you doing?!” His voice sounds panicked, strained.
“Hey, let’s just calm down, okay? I understand this is…probably not the kind of position you want to see us in. But you don’t need to speak to your mom that way.” Beck holds up his hands, trying to diffuse the situation.
But I see the confusion and fear in my son’s eyes. It’s not anger, which is what I expected. I’d even have understood a feeling of betrayal. But I’ve seen this look on my son’s face before, and he’s scared. Something is wrong, something bigger than catching Beck and I together. I know he loves Beckett, and he’s not blind to the way we’ve been dancing around each other for years. I thought he was okay with this, but maybe I was wrong.
