This doesn’t happen to me.
Not in real life.
Jack’s kissing me.
No. No, he’s not.
And yet…the heat of his mouth consumes me. The scratch of his beard on my jaw. The soft, dizzying moan he expels as my body responds with optimism my heart doesn’t share. I breathe in, a sharp inhale that scrapes my lungs, startled energy thrumming in my veins, my knees loose, my pulse wild. I kiss himback, and the world tilts on its axis.
I feel it.
Jack feels it—knowsit—and relief seems to break through restraint I didn’t know existed.Hisrestraint, as one hand grips my jaw with unmistakable certainty, thumb settling below my ear, and his other arm pulls me in, tugging me against him like he’s done being careful.
Like he’s done with anything that isn’t this bruising, clawing kiss.
His kiss.
Mine.
Ours.
I’m going to pass out. My hands flail and I find his chest, solid and warm, and the contact knocks more breath and coherence clean out of me. I dig my fingers into the unyielding muscle and Jack…
He kisses me harder. And that thumb on my face? He presses it into my jaw with firm, subtle intent and I feel iteverywhere.
Oh.
Damn.
No. This cannot be real. And as gold star-amazing as this fantasy is, I need to wake up and deal with the echo of my best friend ringing through me like the worst joke on earth. I need to face it before I drift so far down this path I don’t know who we are anymore.
I need to pull back and this version of Jack, whoever he is, he feels the roadblock my soul throws up and it’s him who breaks away to stare at me in the murky light of the early morning.
He’s breathing hard.
So am I.
And he doesn’t release me, from anywhere except his mouth. He stares and stares and stares while I spin in his hold and I wonder if he knows. If he can see how unrooted I am by the very thing I’ve longed for—yearnedfor—my whole damn life.
“Tell me to stop.”
Jack’s voice is always deep, but the way he gravels those four words is somewhere near the earth’s core.
Rough. Earnest. Honest.
He doesn’t want to stop.
The realisation hits me with another wave of conflicting panic. I’m scared of how much it’ll hurt if we stop. Of how I’ll ever breathe again if we don’t. I’m scared of hurtinghim. “Jack…” Emotion shakes my voice. “What?—”
He kisses me again. And it’s different to the heart-seizing collision I came home to. Softer, sweeter. Until the slow glide of his tongue fills my mouth and I’m spun sideways all over again.
It’s shorter too.
Over before it’s truly begun and I mourn the loss of it. I bring my hand to my lips and realise I’m trembling. “Jack.” I try again. “What are we doing, love?”
Jack’s lips part and close, moving as if he’s mouthing the words back to me. His green eyes flicker and terror swamps me. But his gaze steadies faster than I’m used to and he doesn’t let go of my face.
“Tell me tostop.”