Chapter 14
Natalie’s heart pounded. The fire warmed her side, but Emma’s body inches away burned hotter. She kept her eyes closed. Looking at Emma might break her. That kiss had been five years of silence pressed into Emma’s mouth and the fingers twisted in Natalie’s hair.
She could still taste the faint malt of whiskey on her own tongue.
Could feel the exact pressure of Emma’s thumb against the frantic flutter at her throat.
Her hands had somehow ended up fisted in the thin cotton of Emma’s tank top, knuckles brushing warm skin underneath. The contact made her dizzy.
This was really happening. Emma had kissed her like a woman who had run out of reasons to wait.
Natalie swallowed, the movement dragging against Emma’s thumb. She managed to open her eyes. Hazel ones stared back at her, bright in the firelight, steady in a way that made Natalie’s stomach flip. Emma looked younger and older all at once. How had so many years gone by?
“All this time,” Emma whispered again, voice husky, like she needed to hear it confirmed out loud.
Natalie’s shoulders hunched forward. Her voice came out thin, stripped bare. “Yes. Since that summer. Before that, maybe. I just... I didn’t know how to say it.”
Emma’s hand slid from her hair to cup her neck. The touch was steady, and it loosened something in Natalie’s chest. Her pulse wouldn’t settle.
“I’m sorry it took me so long,” Natalie murmured. Her fingers loosened their grip on Emma’s shirt and slid upward, tracing Emma’s jaw.
Emma stayed quiet for a moment. When she spoke, her voice came low and rough. “You’re here now. That’s what matters.” Emma’s hand found Natalie’s waist. The grip was firm, possessive, and Natalie’s stomach fluttered. “I spent five years trying not to wait for you.”
Natalie’s breath quickened. She looked at the fire instead of meeting Emma’s gaze.
“I don’t know how to stay,” Natalie whispered. Her fingers tightened on Emma’s collarbone, feeling the pulse beneath. “My life is noise and schedules and people who only want a certain version of me. But with you the noise stops. It terrifies me how much I want this.”
Emma’s hand moved to cup her jaw, tilting her face until their eyes met. Natalie’s breath caught.
“Then stop running,” Emma said, simple and devastating. Her thumb brushed Natalie’s lower lip. “I’m not asking for promises tonight. Just stop leaving before we’ve even begun.”
Natalie’s heart lurched. She leaned in and closed the distance between them.
Their mouths met softer this time, less desperate.
Emma tasted sweet, familiar. Natalie’s hands moved to Emma’s waist, pulling her closer until their bodies pressed together beside the dying fire.
The kiss stretched, slow and deep. Natalie forgot the chill in the air and the weight of five lost years.
All that existed was Emma’s warmth and the quiet promise of this being the start of something real.
Natalie sank deeper into the kiss, her body forgetting how to hold itself upright. Her hands found the curve of Emma’s hips, fingers pressing into the fabric of the tank top, feeling the steady heat of skin underneath.
Emma made a small sound low in her throat, the vibration traveling straight through Natalie’s chest. That sound undid the last careful distance Natalie had tried to keep.
She angled her head, deepening the kiss until their breaths tangled and the world narrowed to the press of lips, the slide of tongues, the way Emma’s fingers tightened in her hair.
Her own pulse hammered against her ribs.
She pulled back just enough to drag air into her lungs, forehead resting against Emma’s again. Her voice came out rough, stripped of every practiced cadence. “I can’t believe this is real.”
Emma’s laugh broke soft and breathless against her mouth. “It’s real.” Her thumb traced Natalie’s jaw, the touch so gentle it hurt. Those hazel eyes held hers without flinching, steady in a way that made Natalie’s stomach tighten with both fear and want. “Been waiting long enough for it.”
Natalie kissed her again, slower this time, savouring the way Emma opened to her without hesitation.
She let her hands explore the slope of Emma’s back, mapping the familiar yet changed lines of her through thin cotton.
Five years of wondering what this might feel like and it was better, sharper, more dangerous than any memory.
Emma broke the kiss with a shaky exhale, her lips brushing Natalie’s as she spoke. “We should go inside.” Her voice dropped lower, husky with the same need Natalie felt thrumming through her veins. Those deft fingers slid down to tangle with Natalie’s, warm and sure.
Natalie took in the flush across Emma’s cheeks, her hair loose around her shoulders. The invitation hung between them.
Natalie swallowed and squeezed Emma’s hand. “Inside,” she said. She wanted this desperately, and the fear of it was just as sharp. But she let Emma lead her from the dying fire. The back door waited—warmth, privacy, and the possibility of dropping every pretense.
Emma’s fingers closed around hers, warm and certain. Natalie’s pulse hammered as she followed across the cool grass. The night air raised gooseflesh along her arms. Every step felt weighted. This wasn’t a summer flirtation or a persistent memory. This was real.
Emma pulled the back door opened. Natalie followed her inside, blinking as her eyes adjusted to the lamplight. She watched the way Emma’s tank top clung to her body.
The door clicked shut behind them with a soft finality that sent a shudder through Natalie’s ribs.
She reached for Emma, fingers curling into the fabric of her thin tank top, dragging her close until their bodies collided with a breath-stealing inevitability.
When their mouths met, it was less a kiss than an overdue collision, a breaking open of five summers’ worth of pent-up restraint.
Emma made a sound against her lips—low and broken and utterly unguarded.
Emma’s lips parted with a quiet sigh. The slide of her tongue sent a jolt through Natalie that made her knees weaken.
Her hands flew to Emma’s face, palms cupping her cheeks, thumbs brushing beneath her eyes.
She clutched at Emma as if she might disappear—as if all those years of near-misses and unresolved longing might slip away again.
Emma backed her up with careful steps until Natalie’s hips met the counter.
The solid edge grounded her even as her heart raced.
When Emma’s hands settled on her hips, another moan escaped against Emma’s mouth.
Heat spread through her clothes at the contact.
She felt every point where their bodies touched, every shared breath, the slight tremor in Emma’s hands that betrayed her composure.
Natalie’s breathing came uneven. This close, the clean warmth of Emma’s skin swept away her arguments about age and logistics and leaving.
She broke the kiss and pushed herself onto the counter.
Her legs parted. Emma stepped between them, their foreheads touching again.
Natalie’s fingers found the wavy fall of chestnut hair and slid through it, tugging lightly.
The moan that escaped Emma this time sent heat pooling low in Natalie’s belly.
She kissed her harder, pouring into it every unsaid July, every lonely night in Los Angeles, every moment she had convinced herself that wanting this made her selfish.
Emma’s hands moved up her sides, thumbs grazing the undersides of her breasts through fabric.
Natalie arched into the touch, a broken sound rising in her throat.
The kiss turned deeper, slower, their mouths learning each other with a thoroughness that left no room for doubt.
She could feel Emma’s heartbeat where their chests pressed together, fast and strong, matching her own.
Emma pulled back a fraction, breathing ragged, hazel eyes dark with emotion.
“Tell me if this is moving too fast...” Her voice came low, threaded with the same vulnerability Natalie felt cracking her open.
“I know we’ve waited a long time for this, but that doesn’t mean we have to rush into anything either. ”
Natalie felt Emma’s breath against her lips, ragged and close. Her own breathing came too fast. She studied Emma’s hazel eyes.
“No,” Natalie said, the word simple and certain.
Her fingers stayed tangled in Emma’s chestnut waves, holding her there.
“I don’t want to wait. Not unless you do.
” She swallowed, throat tight. The vulnerability in Emma’s tone had mirrored her own so perfectly it stole her breath.
Her body angled toward Emma without permission, knees bracketing those slim hips.
The contact sent small sparks along her nerves.
A slow smile tugged at her lips as understanding clicked into place.
Of course Emma might wonder. Natalie had never come out.
She had kept every quiet affair tucked away in Los Angeles hotel rooms and trusted friends’ apartments, women who understood discretion and never asked for more than she could give.
Those moments had been careful and fleeting, nothing like this.
Nothing like the way Emma looked at her now.
Emma’s brow creased in quiet question, reading the smile.
Natalie brushed a thumb across one freckled cheekbone, the skin warm and slightly flushed.
“I’ve been with women before,” Natalie said.
“Quietly. Carefully. But never like this. Never with someone who knows me the way you do.” Her free hand found Emma’s waist again, palm sliding under the hem of the tank top to rest against bare skin.
The touch grounded them both. Natalie’s pulse fluttered at her throat where Emma’s gaze dropped for a moment.
“I want this,” Natalie whispered. Her fingers traced the line of Emma’s spine under the fabric, feeling the subtle arch of her back. “I want you.”
Then she kissed Emma again, slower this time, letting the slide of tongues say what her guarded heart was still afraid to say.
Heat flared brighter in her core. She forgot the counter’s hard edge digging into her thighs, forgot the grief that had consumed her.
There was only Emma’s hands sliding up her sides, the soft gasp shared between their lips, and the terrifying certainty that she no longer wanted an exit.