Page 115 of Tessa and Nash

I step closer, and Nash stills.

He looks at me, waiting for permission from a part of me that rarely gives it. My hand lifts, fingers brushing his jaw. He inhales sharply.

His eyes close for half a second as if it hurts.

And then I kiss him.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Nash

January 16th

I kiss her harder, deeper, desperate to close the distance between us. I forget the journal upstairs, the map with both our family names written side by side like a warning.

I’m drowning in her. Winter pine and bergamot, her warmth threaded through the cold of Juniper House, the only sane thing left. My hands find her waist, pull her closer, and for one suspended second, the storm outside is a rumor.

I can’t wait any longer.

My hands move swiftly, pulling her sweater off over her head, the fabric slipping from her body as if it never existed, exposing her to me, every inch of her glowing under the soft light. My eyes run over the goosebumps that pop along her arm.

She’s perfect, flawless, and I can’t resist the urge to taste every inch of her skin. My lips find the sensitive spot just below her ear, kissing it softly, then trailing down her neck, feeling the rapid pulse of her heart against my mouth.

She gasps, arching into me as I move lower, my lips brushing the delicate curve of her collarbone, then down to the swell of her chest. I hear her breath hitch when my fingers graze the skin above her bra, and I can’t help but smile. She’s so beautiful, so irresistible.

“Tessa…” I murmur, ragged, trembling with everything I’m trying to hold back, but I can see it in her eyes. She’s desperate for more.

My fingers find the clasp of her bra, trembling with the same need that’s clawing at me. The snap of it coming undone is almost too much. I can’t wait. I lean down, kissing her, just a quick press of my lips before I move lower, exploring, tasting every inch of her soft skin.

She lets out a soft, breathy moan, and I take my time, savoring the feel of her body beneath my hands. Nothing else exists but us.

Her hands move down my chest, over my stomach, and then she’s at my belt, her fingers trembling as she works it loose. I know what she wants, and I’m not stopping her. I can feel the sizzling between us, the pull of her hands as she tugs, and the sharp intake of breath when she finally gets me free, leaving me in nothing but my boxers.

Tessa looks at me then, eyes dark and needy, lips parted, her hands trailing over my jaw. Before I can process it, she pulls me to her, her lips crashing into mine with a desperation that matches the hunger inside me.

We’re past the point of no return.

I can’t hold back any longer, so I slowly drag her leggings down her hips, pausing to look at her, to drink in the flush of her skin, the way her body reacts to my touch. She helps me free her from the fabric, and I slide them off, feeling the curve of her thighs, every inch of her soft, burning skin.

My hands move to the waistband of her underwear, grazing the delicate lace. I meet her gaze, searching for any hesitation, but I find none. There’s only hunger, only urgency there, and I know I’m not stopping. She’s pulling me closer, her body urging me on with every movement, every breath.

I tug at the waistband tantalizingly slowly, savoring the moment, and when they finally slide down her legs, I’m struck by the beauty of her, laid bare, exposed for me.

I take a moment just to look at her, every inch of her skin flushed, her chest rising and falling in quick breaths, her eyes molten with desire.

She’s everything. Every soft curve, every trembling breath. It’s all I can think about as I press against her, feeling the heat of her body, the slickness of her skin as she moves beneath me. She rocks her hips once, and the friction sends a bolt of electricity through my spine, hitting me right in the core.

A low groan escapes me, raw and needy, before I can stop it. My body tightens, my control slipping, and I feel myself harden even more, aching for her, desperate for more. Every inch of her is a damn temptation, and I’m losing myself in her, in this moment. I guide her backward through the doorway, kissing her hard, until we hit the couch.

I lean down, my breath hot against her ear, pressing a slow, intense kiss to the sensitive spot just below it, feeling the rapid thrum of her pulse beneath my lips. She shifts against me, her body a silent invitation, and I let my lips trail lower, grazing her collarbone with a touch that’s both light and firm.

I can’t get enough of the feel of her skin. Her breath catches when I brush past the curve of her chest, and a dark smile tugs at my lips. She’s already undone, chest rising and falling with every shallow breath, body trembling beneath my touch.

“Nash…” she whispers, barely more than a broken plea, thick with need.

She’s losing control and doesn’t want to fight it anymore.

I move lower, lips brushing the curve of her breast, then trailing down her stomach, savoring the smooth skin beneath me with a tantalizingly slow touch. Her back arches, and she groans, hands gripping my hair, pulling me in closer, desperate for more.