But her face is flushed, eyes dark and wild. My thumbs sweep over her cheekbones just to keep from touching lower and crossing the point of no return.
“I’ve been thinking,” she says, and then she grins—reckless and gorgeous. “Maybe strings aren’t so bad if you’re on the other end of them.”
That’s it. Restraint?Gone.
Months of slow-burning control ignite in an instant.
I crush my mouth to hers, all the hunger I’ve been choking down pouring out. My hands grip her hips hard, dragging her against me until I feel every inch of her. She kisses me back like she’s been holding this in as long as I have.
Her fingers fist against my scalp, tugging until I groan into her mouth.
“God, Harper,” I rasp against her throat. “I’ve wanted you every day since that first one when you stole my wallet.”
I don’t mean to say it. But it’s the truth, and I can’t stop it now.
“Me too,” she fires back, fierce and breathless. “So take it. Takeme.”
The words nearly take my knees out.
Not just permission. Surrender.
Trust.
The one thing she never gives.
I slide my hands under her shirt, slower this time.Careful. Reverent. My thumbs find the edge of her bra, tracing along the soft curve beneath.
She arches into me again, and I swear I can feel every unspoken word between us in that single movement.
This isn’t just about wanting her.
It’s about the fact that she’s mine. Not because I claimed her, but because she chose me. And I’ll die before I let someone take that away from her again.
And then?—
A car door slams in the driveway.
We both freeze.
We’re tangled together, still breathing hard. The dryer rumbles beneath us like it’s trying to rat us out.
No. Not now.
“Shit,” Harper whispers. “Shit, shit, shit.”
I can feel her heart pounding against my chest.Thump, thump, thump, thump, thump. Another door slam. Voices—Mom’s laugh, Silas’s deeper one behind it.
Our parents are back. I check my watch automatically. They’re ten minutes early.
Ten minutes. 600 seconds. That’s all it would have taken.
600 more seconds and I would have?—
The basement suddenly feels smaller. Hotter. The warm, reckless bubble we were in starts collapsing under the weight of reality.
Harper’s hands are still under my shirt. Mine are still on her skin. Neither of us moves.
“They’re early,” she whispers the obvious, eyes wide, lips still kiss-swollen.