Page 204 of Romeo

One hand slid into my hair while the other moved to my waist, drawing me against him. His tongue traced my bottom lip, and I opened for him without thinking. Heat swept through me as he deepened the kiss, stealing whatever breath I had left and making the porch beneath my feet seem suddenly unreliable.

I held on tighter.

Jasper’s fingers dug into my hip and he kissed me harder, then seemed to catch himself, easing the pressure for half a second before I followed his mouth.

That was apparently all it took.

His restraint snapped again.

By the time he finally pulled away, both of us were breathing too hard. He rested his forehead against mine, his fingers still threaded through my hair.

“Fiona.”

“Yeah?”

“You need to go inside.”

I blinked up at him. “Why?”

“Because if you stay out here, I’ll kiss you again.”

“That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

A rough laugh left him. “It does when I don’t want to stop.”

I looked at his face. His pupils had swallowed most of the blue from his eyes, and the control he usually wore so easily looked a lot less certain now.

“I don’t want you to stop.”

“I know.”

His thumb moved over my bottom lip, and my breath caught again.

“But you deserve better than me losing my damn mind on your grandmother’s porch.”

“I don’t care where we are.”

“I do.” He leaned in and pressed his mouth to my forehead, lingering there before forcing himself to step back. “Go inside, Cher, before you find out exactly how bad my self-control really is.”

I didn’t want to go inside. My lips still tingled, and every inch of distance he put between us felt unnecessary. But I could see what stopping was costing him.

For once, I didn’t mistake it for rejection. “Okay.”

“Goodnight, Ma Belle.”

“Goodnight, Jasper.”

I opened the door and stepped inside. When I looked back, Jasper still stood on the porch, watching me. Whatever he was thinking left something raw in his expression that made my chest ache.

Then he turned and headed toward his bike.

I closed the door and leaned against it, lifting my fingers to my mouth.

For months, every conversation between us had lived somewhere between friendship and something neither of us would quite name. I’d questioned flowers, texts, looks, and every almost-kiss Jasper refused to finish.

There wasn’t anything left to question now.

He wanted me.