Page 225 of Tessa and Nash

Release hits with a primal groan. Hips jerk, cock pulses, and I spill into her mouth, scorching and endless. She takes it all, eyes locked on mine, needing it as much as I do.

Then the world tilts. I blink, vision swimming, sweat tracing down my spine. My heart hammers fast as a wild beast trying to escape. I gasp, lungs burning, head spinning as I finally let go completely, losing myself in her.

I collapse back against the mattress, chest heaving, sweat slicking my skin. Tessa curls up beside me, lips wet and glistening, eyes dark and heavy-lidded as she drifts down from the edge. I brush a strand of hair from her face, letting my thumb trace the line of her jaw, just trying to ground myself in the reality of her being here… mine.

She shivers slightly and presses against me, not saying a word, just letting me feel her warmth. The scent of her, soft, musky, completely intoxicating, makes my chest tighten all over again. I kiss her temple lightly, then her lips, slower now, more lingering.

“Fuck,” I murmur, resting my forehead against hers. “You… you’re incredible.”

She smirks, teasing in that way that’s almost mischievous, even drenched in heat. “Took you long enough to say it.”

I laugh, low and rough, pressing another kiss to her hair. “I’m not great with words sometimes. You know that.”

Her fingers trail over my chest, down to my stomach, just lightly brushing, and I feel that same shiver run through me again. I pull her closer, letting her settle against me, the fire crackling softly, the little guest house around us suddenly the only world that exists.

We stay that way for a long while, just breathing, just feeling, letting the rhythm of our heartbeats sync. Nothing else matters. Not the town, not her uncle, not the past we’re leaving behind.

Eventually, I sit back slightly, still holding her.

“We should probably… eat something before we collapse completely,” I mutter, trying for humor, though my voice is still thick with need.

She laughs, a little shaky but real. “You just want an excuse to stay close.”

“Maybe,” I admit. “But you don’t seem to mind.”

She presses a soft kiss to my chest. “Not at all.”

I smile, finally letting myself sink back into the mattress, into her. Into this. The world outside can wait. Tonight, here, now… it’s ours.

Weirdly, I don’t feel the pull of everything I can’t control. Because right here, in this little guest house, with her against me, I can control exactly one thing: the fact that she’s mine.

And I plan to make the most of it.

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

Tessa

March 3rd

The Rusty Mug was not on my list of places to be this morning.

In fact, I had a plan: stay in bed, avoid reality like it’s a game of dodgeball, and pretend the whole town wasn’t imploding. But somehow, I’ve ended up at a corner table with a coffee strong enough to put hair on your chest, pastries that could double as bricks, and a silence hanging between Nash and me as if we’ve just walked into a room full of awkward.

“So, do you think they actually put butter in this, or is it just a thick layer of existential dread?” I prod my croissant.

Nash takes a sip of his coffee, his eyes fixed on me, trying to figure out if I’ve officially cracked under all the pressure. “I think it’s both. Butter and dread. The Rusty Mug special.”

I raise an eyebrow. “That’s deep. Maybe we should put that on a mug and sell it.”

“Not sure people would buy ‘dread flavored coffee,’” he smirks, leaning back in his chair, looking all relaxed when the room’s basically a ticking time bomb.

I roll my eyes, but can’t help the smile that sneaks through. It’s us. We’re trying to pretend everything’s normal, but the air’s thick with everything but normal.

“Seriously,” I add, my tone turning a little more serious, “do we talk about it now, or keep pretending the pastries are our biggest problem?”

Nash doesn’t miss a beat, just looks at me over his mug. “Well, we’ve successfully ignored it for the last two hours. I say we give it another twenty minutes.”

“Twenty minutes?” I snort, but truth be told, I kinda want to delay the inevitable. Let this moment of calm last just a little longer before everything goes to hell.