Chapter 26
TWENTY-SIX
AUSTIN
She pulled back just enough to whisper it—soft, shaky, wrecking me in one syllable.
“Please.”
Her fingers were still wrapped around mine, tight like she wasn’t sure I’d follow. Like she didn’t know I already would’ve followed her anywhere.
“Come inside,” she repeated with a whisper, her voice unsteady, like she was afraid I might say no.
Like I ever could.
The porch step creaked under her bare feet, her eyes fixed on mine like I was something she wasn’t sure she should want—but was about to take anyway.
Then her lips were on me again. Not soft and tentative, but hungry.
Selene kissed like she was trying to anchor herself in a storm, her fingers curling in my shirt as if to tether me closer. I didn’t hesitate—I couldn’t. My hands found her jaw, my thumbs brushing the delicate curve beneath her ears as I deepened the kiss.
She tasted like salted caramel and fear and something so fucking addictive I already knew I’d crave it long after she let me go.
She was pulling me in. Pushing me away. Both at once. Honestly, I didn’t care which—so long as she didn’t stop.
The porch light flickered faintly overhead, moths circling, their wings whispering in the dark. It was the only sound besides our breathing, our lips, the needy noises catching in her throat.
Selene pressed closer, her hips brushing mine, and my restraint—always shaky around her—frayed to threads.
“Selene,” I murmured against her mouth, unsure whether it was a warning or a prayer.
Her hands fisted in my hair, tugging just enough to make me groan, to make my pulse thunder against my ribs. I kissed her harder—desperate, frantic in a way that cracked something wide open inside me.
This wasn’t casual.
This wasn’t just fun.
For a flash, I was fifteen years old again, standing outside a house I wasn’t allowed to call home. Cold hands. Cold nose. Watching through the glass as Brody set the table inside, laughter spilling past walls I could never breach.
I’d told myself I didn’t need them, that I didn’t need anyone.
But here? Selene’s hands on me, her mouth claiming mine like I belonged to her? It undid me.
A sound broke from deep in my chest—rough, needy—as I pressed her back gently against the porch rail, my forehead resting against hers as we both fought for air.
Her eyes searched mine, wide and dark and shining.
My throat was too full with the taste of her, my head still spinning from the way she’d kissed me—like I was her last solid thing in a world slipping sideways.
Selene tugged gently, her palm warm against mine. I let her lead me through the door, the porch light buzzing faintly behind us as the night air clung to my skin.
And Christ—this woman. She didn’t even know what she was doing to me.
Her hand fit so naturally in mine, her thumb brushing absent circles over my knuckles as we stepped inside. The door clicked behind us, shutting out the world like it wasn’t even real anymore.
The house smelled faintly of her shampoo and vanilla candles. The hush was thick, intimate, broken only by the faint tick of the kitchen clock.
Selene stopped in the entryway. She turned toward me, her eyes shining in the glow from a lamp left on in the living room. Her lips were parted, still flushed from the kiss on the porch, and I couldn’t help myself.
I cupped her jaw, my thumb grazing the delicate curve of her cheekbone. Her skin was warm, and there was a flicker in her eyes—hunger, yes, but also something rawer. Something that made my heart twist.
“Selene,” I murmured. It wasn’t a question, not exactly, but it felt like one anyway.
Her hands slid up my chest, fisting lightly in the fabric of my shirt. “Shh . . . don’t overthink it,” she whispered. “Just kiss me again.”
I couldn’t say no to her if I tried.
I kissed her like a starving man, my fingers tangling in her hair as she pressed against me, soft and insistent. She made a sound—quiet, desperate—that went straight to my gut.
I deepened the kiss, tasting passion and fear and wanting all at once. Her mouth was hot and pliant beneath mine, her hands tugging at my shirt like she needed me closer than skin.
My back hit the wall with a muted thud as she pushed me there, her body slotting against mine. I gripped her hips, holding her steady as her tongue slid against mine, sweet and urgent.
There was a fragility in her urgency that nearly undid me. She wasn’t kissing me for fun. She was kissing me like she was drowning and I was the only air left in her world.
And, fuck, if that understanding didn’t make my skin feel too tight.
I kissed her harder, one hand sliding down to her lower back, anchoring her against me.
“Selene,” I breathed between kisses, my forehead resting lightly against hers. “We don’t have to rush.”
But she shook her head, her fingers curling around my collar as she whispered, “Please don’t stop.”
That single, shaky plea burned through me.
“Okay,” I murmured against her mouth. “Okay, baby.”
Her hand caught mine again, tugging me toward the stairs. The movement wasn’t hurried—it was deliberate. Like she’d made up her mind and there was no going back.
And god help me, I was already gone.
Selene tugged me toward the stairs, her steps light on the creaking wood floor. I followed without hesitation, my pulse thrumming low and heavy in my throat.
The house felt too quiet, like the stillness was a living, breathing thing. The hum of the refrigerator. The faint tick of a wall clock. The whisper of fabric as her sweater brushed against my arm.
Halfway up the stairs, I saw the faint sliver of light spilling from under a door at the end of the hall. Winnie’s room.
Selene glanced back at me, her hazel eyes glassy in the dim light. Her lips parted, but no sound came. She didn’t need to say anything.
I understood.
We moved slower now. Careful. The air felt thick enough to drown in, charged with that precarious combination of want and restraint.
In the hallway, she stopped in front of her bedroom door. Her hand hesitated on the knob like she was weighing something—then she pushed it open and stepped inside, pulling me with her.
The door clicked shut behind us, muffling the world again.
Her room was dim, lit only by the faint glow of a lamp on the dresser.
The curtains stirred gently with the breeze through the cracked window, carrying the faint scent of autumn air and her vanilla lotion.
The bed was still slightly rumpled from the morning, an invitation that punched me right in the chest.
Selene turned to face me, her chest rising and falling fast. Her hands slid up my chest, fingers curling in the fabric of my shirt as if she couldn’t decide whether to push me away or pull me closer.
She pulled.
I caught her face in my hands, my thumbs brushing her flushed cheeks as I kissed her—slower this time, but no less hungry. Her body melted into mine, the heat of her seeping through my clothes like a brand.
She felt unbearably good.
Her hands slipped under my shirt, palms skating over my ribs and my stomach. I shuddered at the contrast of her soft fingers against my heated skin.
“Selene . . .” My voice was rough, too loud in the quiet room. I kissed her again to swallow it down, moving us backward until her knees hit the edge of the bed.
She sank onto it with an exhale, her legs parting slightly as her hands fisted in my shirt, tugging me down to her.
“Wait,” I murmured, breaking the kiss just enough to search her eyes. “We don’t have to—”
“I said don’t stop,” she whispered again. The plea in her voice was soft, but it cracked something open in me.
I kissed her harder, my hands sliding into her hair as she gasped against my mouth. Her thighs tightened around my hips, anchoring me there like she didn’t plan on letting go.
Outside the door, the house creaked faintly, and my gut tensed with the awareness of a child sleeping down the hall.
We both froze for a heartbeat.
Then Selene’s lips curved faintly against mine, her fingers tugging me down until our foreheads touched.
“We’ll be quiet,” she whispered.
The words lit a fire low in my stomach.
My voice went low and thick as my hands trailed down to her hips, pinning her to the mattress. “Then you better not let me hear a sound then,” I murmured back.
Her answering smile was wicked. Her fingers curled in my shirt, tugging me down until our mouths found each other again. The kiss was slower this time but no less urgent—like we were both trying to memorize the shape of this want.
The quiet of the house pressed in on us, amplifying every sound. The rustle of the sheets as she shifted beneath me. The faint catch of her breath against my lips. The creak of the headboard when my knee brushed the mattress.
We both stilled at that, a silent agreement passing between us.
Be quiet.
Selene’s lips curved faintly, her hands sliding up to frame my face. “You’re heavy,” she teased in the faintest whisper, though her eyes said the opposite—stay.
I shifted slightly to ease my weight off her, my forearms braced on either side of her head. My thumbs brushed her jaw, tracing the delicate line of her throat as I bent to kiss her again, softer this time.
“I’ll always be careful with you,” I murmured against her mouth.
Her hands skimmed down my chest, fingers slipping beneath the hem of my shirt. Her touch burned as she pushed it higher, higher, until I sat back on my heels just long enough to peel it over my head and toss it aside.
Her eyes swept over me in the low light, something raw flickering there. Not lust—not only lust.
Want.
Need.
Maybe even fear.
“You’re staring,” I whispered with a crooked smile, trying to keep the moment light even as my pulse roared in my ears.
“Can you blame me?” Her voice was barely audible, her thumb brushing over a faint scar near my lip.
I caught her hand, pressing a kiss to her knuckles before guiding it to my chest. “Touch me all you want.” My voice was low, rough edged. “But you better let me return the favor.”