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The corner of my mouth lifts. I step into him first, and his arms come around me, pulling me close enough that I can hear his heartbeat.

He pushes me back so he can look down at me before resting his forehead against mine.

"I'm sorry."

I reach up and cup his jaw. "Then stop trying to protect me by asking me to leave."

His eyes meet mine and he nods.

When he kisses me, it feels like the end of an argument that's been going on for months. Behind us, somebody clears their throat, and I don't have to look to know it's Tripp.

"Do we gotta leave, or are y'all done emotionally devastating each other?"

I laugh against Briggs' lips.

“I'm done devastating her and myself,” he tells his cousin. “That doesn't mean I'm not going to ruin her."

Before I can process the words, he bends, hooks an arm behind my knees, and swings me up over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. The world tilts, my breath catches, and I grab onto his belt to steady myself.

"What the⁠—!"

"Christ, it's about time!" Tripp shouts from behind us, as he stomps up the stairs.

I catch a glimpse of Clint shaking his head, a smile tugging at his mouth.

"Briggs, put me down," I manage, but it comes out breathless.

"No."

He takes the stairs two at a time, and I bounce against his shoulder, my hands sliding across the worn denim of his jeans. The tremor in his muscles tells me he's not calm, he's holding himself tight, barely controlled.

We reach the top and he turns down the hall, kicks open the door to his room, and I'm suddenly airborne, landing on the mattress with a soft bounce. He follows me down, body covering mine, one hand already fisting in the hem of my shirt.

"Tell me you want this," he says, voice shredded.

I don't answer with words, I grab the back of his neck and pull his mouth to mine.

The kiss is nothing like the one in the kitchen. This one is teeth, tongue, and desperation. He yanks my shirt up and off, as one hand slides behind my back, finding the clasp of my bra by feel. It pops open beneath his fingers, and he tugs the straps down my shoulders in one impatient motion. My breasts spill free and his mouth is on me instantly, sucking my nipple into his mouth while his thumb rolls the other one, hard.

I arch into him, a gasp tearing from my throat. His free hand shoves between my thighs, palm pressing against the denim of my jeans. He groans against my skin.

"Fuck, Autumn. You're soaked for me."

He pulls back just long enough to get his fingers around the waistband of my jeans. He doesn't unbutton them, he yanks and tears them down my hips, denim scraping my skin until the fabric bunches around my knees. He pushes my legs together, and rips them the rest of the way off, taking my panties with them in one rough motion.

I'm naked beneath him, sprawled on his bed, and he's still half-dressed. He looms over me, chest heaving, eyes dark and wild. He's not wasting time. He shoves his own jeans down, kicking them off, his cock springing free, the tip glistening with pre-cum.

"I'm not gonna be gentle," he warns.

"I don't want gentle."

He drops to his elbows, settling between my thighs. His breath ghosts over my pussy, then his mouth is on me, no finesse, no teasing. He licks a flat, wet stripe from my asshole all the way up to my clit, and I buck into his face, a cry ripping from my throat.

"Briggs!"

He doesn't answer. He's too busy eating me out. His tongue plunges inside me, fucking into my hole while his nose grinds against my clit. Slick gushes out of me, coating his chin. He groans against my flesh, the vibration sending sparks up my spine.

He pulls back just long enough to shove two fingers into me without warning. I gasp, my back bowing off the mattress. His fingers are thick, and they curl immediately, pressing against that spot that makes my vision blur.