Page 108 of False Catch

The valley below glitters with scattered lights, but I don’t see any of it. All I see is her—flushed, gasping, looking at me like I’m the only thing in the world that matters.

I break from her lips just long enough to drag my mouth along her jaw, down the curve of her throat. Her pulse thrums wild under my tongue. I can feel her shiver when I scrape my teeth lightly across that sensitive skin.

“God, you smell like temptation,” I mutter against her neck. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”

She arches into me, her chest brushing mine, and breathes, “Show me.”

The two words are gasoline.

I grab her hips, pulling her tighter against me, and grind just enough to make my point clear. The heat of her body against the hard line of my cock has me biting back a curse. She whimpers at the friction, and I swear my vision goes white for a second.

“You don’t know what you’re asking for,” I say, though my voice is already ruined, wrecked with want.

Her hand slips under my jacket, fingers sliding over my shirt, mapping the shape of me. She drags her nails lightly across my chest, and the sting makes me hiss through my teeth. “Maybe I do.”

I slam my mouth back onto hers, devouring her. The kiss turns rougher, filthier—teeth clashing, tongues tangling. My hand fists in her hair, tugging her head back so I can take her deeper, harder. She moans into me, a sound that vibrates down my spine and straight into my cock.

I can’t stop touching her. My hands roam—over her back, her ribs, down the curve of her ass. I palm her firmly, pulling her against me until there’s nothing but friction, heat, the sharp ache of wanting more. She’s trembling, but it’s not fear—it’s anticipation. I can feel it in the way she pushes back, meeting me with equal hunger.

I press her harder against the bike, letting her feel exactly how far gone I am. “This is me not being careful,” I rasp. “Still want it?”

Her answer is a desperate kiss, her tongue stroking mine like she’s trying to pull the air from my lungs. That’s all the permission I need.

I trail my mouth lower, back to her throat, down the line of her collarbone. Her shirt is in my way, and I shove the fabric up, exposing warm skin. I drag my lips across it, suck lightly until she gasps and clutches at my shoulders. The sound has me biting down just enough to leave a mark, and her answering shudder makes my cock throb so hard it hurts.

“Cameron…” she breathes, half plea, half prayer.

I lift my head, catching her gaze. The moonlight paints her eyes dark, wide, full of want. Her lips are kiss-bruised, glistening, and I can’t resist claiming them again, softer this time, almost reverent. A contrast to the storm still boiling in my blood.

“You have no idea how many nights I’ve imagined this,” I whisper against her mouth. “How many times I’ve thought about what you’d sound like, taste like… feel like.”

Her hand slides lower, fingers brushing the waistband of my jeans, teasing, testing. I groan, bucking into her touch without meaning to. She smiles, wicked and breathless, and I know I’m completely fucked.

“Careful,” I warn, but it comes out hoarse, half-laugh, half-threat.

“Not tonight,” she whispers back.

I kiss her again, slower now, dragging it out. Her lips part under mine, pliant and eager, and I savor the way she clings to me, the way her body presses close like she can’t stand any distance. I let one hand cup her ass, lifting her slightly onto the edge of the bike seat so our hips align better. The angle has her gasping, rocking against me, chasing friction.

I grind back, controlled but deliberate, until we’re moving together in a rhythm that’s nothing but promise. The night air is cool, the stars bright above, but we’re hot, sweat starting to bead at the nape of my neck, her skin damp where I press into her.

I could kiss her forever like this—slow, grinding, lost in her taste. But I know this is only the beginning.

When I finally pull back, we’re both panting, foreheads pressed together.

“Reese,” I murmur, brushing my thumb over her swollen bottom lip, “I can’t stop. I’ve held myself back for so long, but if this isn’t–.”

“Cameron,” she says, her voice wrecked and sure. “I want this. I want you.”

Something inside me snaps. The fragile leash I’ve been clinging to unravels, and all that’s left is heat and hunger and the desperate need to taste her.

I don’t give her a chance to second-guess. My mouth crashes back onto hers, messy and consuming, my tongue plunging past her lips like I can drink the need straight out of her. She answers with a moan that vibrates through my chest, nails raking down my back hard enough to sting. I cage her against the bike, one hand tangled in her hair, the other gripping her hip like I could anchor her there forever.

When I finally drag myself away from her mouth, we’re both panting. “Gonna ruin you,” I rasp, my forehead pressed to hers. “Been dreaming about it too damn long.”

“Then do it,” she breathes.

That’s all I need.