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His gaze drops to my lips again, and I silently will him to kiss me. To forget all his reasons for denying what we both want and give in. My bags are packed, and I can’t think of a single reason to deny myself a night I’ll never forget.
“If we do this, I’m never letting you go.”
My breath stalls in my throat as his fingers grip my waist.
I have lived to hear those words on his lips.
Now, given the timing, they almost feel like a cruel joke. I push that thought away and focus on the moment: the softness of his sweater, lust burning bright inside me, and need, so heavy and strong, pooling between my thighs.
“That’s the best thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“Shoulda said it years ago,” he murmurs, tugging me forward a few more inches until my ass is barely on the sofa.
And then his mouth is on mine, firm lips, hot breath, and a soul-deep groan I feel to my core. I open for him, and he takes immediate advantage, sweeping his tongue between my lips. My breasts swell and tingle. I’m dying for his touch. It’s been such a slow death.
And now I get to explore him. Excitement zings through my veins as I slide my hands up his strong chest and wrap them around his neck. As if it’s also just occurred to him that he can touch me, like really touch me, a big palm slides to the outside of my thigh.
A sound of pure pleasure bubbles up, and I sink my fingers into his hair. Finally. Finally!
His fingers flex into me, saying without words how much he’s restraining himself. He’s not alone.
I nip his lower lip and grin when he growls. I love the urgent sound. So heavy with desire and long, unfulfilled need. My hands coast over his shoulders, memorizing every hard angle.
“Been wanting to do this forever,” I whisper, then take a deep breath and kiss him again.
His beard tickles my nose, and I pull back, grinning like a goofball. I have seriously dreamed of every detail of this. Those dreams pale compared to reality. His lips are firmer in real life, his breath scented with whiskey.
“Sorry.”
“Don’t you dare apologize. I’ve wanted to feel your stubble forever.” I brush the backs of my fingers against his jaw.
He stares at me for a long moment, an odd look on his handsome face.
“What?”
Why does his silence make me so nervous? Our friendship was built on honesty and open communication, even when it wasn’t comfortable. Even when we realized we had someone important in common.
He shakes his head, a rueful twist of his lips doing wild things to my tummy. “You’re too good to be true.”
“I feel the same way about you.”
The dim light makes the confession all the more intimate. It makes me want to share everything and release all the secrets I’ve held back into the open.
“I’ve thought that since we met.”
“Pie—” Our mouths crash. Mate.
I can’t get enough.
Years of pent-up tension pour from my lips, my fingertips, and my soul.
The relief of finally being in his arms makes me lightheaded. Or maybe it’s his drugging kisses.
His big hands wrap around my waist and lift me, tugging me onto his lap. I moan into his mouth. This is exactly where I’ve always longed to be. And now that his rock-hard thighs are beneath my ass, I squirm around, making myself at home.
He cuts off our kiss with a groan and rests his forehead against mine. My heart clenches, and I smile because I’m so happy I could burst.
“I knew you were going to be a tease,” he grumbles, but it’s good-natured. The prison he’s been locked in for the last few years has thrown open the gate, and he’s stepping into the daylight. A cloak of sadness is puddled on the floor, and the Hunter I first met, the one who made me laugh, is back.
