Thirty Seven
The second Savannah kissed them back — really kissed them, warm and wanting — something in Tilly snapped loose.
They didn’t lunge or pin her. But their restraint frayed, thin as thread.
Their hand lifted to her jaw, thumb brushing the soft place under her ear. Savannah shivered — a full-body tremor that rippled straight through Tilly’s chest.
God.
They stepped in, close enough that her back pressed more firmly into the counter. Not trapped — just caught in the pull between them.
Savannah’s breath hitched as her lips parted under theirs. Her hands stayed braced behind her like she needed grounding, but her chest lifted toward Tilly’s body in a way that sent heat through them in a sharp rush.
Their mouth deepened against hers, slow but hungry — a careful drag at her bottom lip that pulled a soft, startled sound from her throat.
Tilly swallowed it, dizzy with wanting.
Their other hand slipped free of their pocket and hovered a beat before settling at her waist — just enough pressure to feel her gasp. Savannah arched subtly into their touch, her body relaxing under their palm like she’d been holding herself tight all night.
Tilly exhaled shakily against her mouth.
“Sav…” They said it like they were steadying themself.
She made a tiny sound in response — quiet, helpless — a sound that hit Tilly low and hard. Their hand at her jaw angled her mouth up, deepening the kiss with the kind of intention they’d been swallowing for weeks.
One of her hands left the counter and landed on their chest, trembling.
Tilly’s breath stuttered.
Her fingertips curled into their shirt — not pulling them closer, just choosing them. It undid something deep and unguarded inside Tilly.
Their hand tightened at her waist, drawing her the slightest bit nearer. Their thumb traced the line of her ribs once, slow and testing. Savannah inhaled sharply, her fingers flexing against their chest like she didn’t know where to put the feeling building in her.
Tilly leaned their forehead to hers, breath uneven.
“This okay?” they whispered.
Savannah nodded, quick and desperate. “Yeah.”
Her voice cracked.
Tilly’s restraint dissolved.
They kissed her again, deeper — still careful, but with a heat that made Savannah’s knees weaken. She clutched their shirt harder, her body tilting into theirs like she needed the contact to stay upright.
Tilly let their hand glide up her side, fingertips brushing her ribs, her shoulder, the warm line of her neck. Savannah shuddered, a soft sound escaping her, barely held back.
They swallowed it, tasting how much she wanted.
Tilly pulled back just enough to look at her. Flushed. Breathless. Eyes wide and wrecking.
“Savannah,” they murmured, voice rough from restraint.
Her fingers tightened in their shirt, tugging them just slightly closer — not demanding, just asking without words.
“Tell me to stop,” they whispered.
Savannah shook her head, breath trembling.
“I can’t do this again if you don’t want—”
“I want this,” she said, cutting them off, quiet and certain.
Tilly froze.
Her words hit like heat to the chest — sharp, stunning. She trembled under their hands, wanting, wide-eyed, looking at them like something would break if they stepped back.
Tilly swallowed hard. “Savannah…”
But she was already leaning in, her breath brushing theirs, her lips parted, wanting everywhere.
It shattered the last piece of their restraint.
They kissed her again — not rushed, not forceful, but full of the hunger they’d kept buried for weeks. Savannah inhaled sharply, her fingers curling tighter in their shirt.
Tilly slid a hand along her waist, feeling the give beneath her sweater. Savannah shivered — a small, involuntary tremor that Tilly felt under their palm. They wanted to touch her everywhere, to feel every place she reacted to them.
Their thumb stroked her ribs again, asking. Savannah gasped into their mouth, her hips shifting a fraction toward them before she caught herself against the counter.
Tilly’s breath broke.
She wasn’t pulling away. She wasn’t hesitating. She was meeting them, wanting them, trembling and certain all at once.
They deepened the kiss, guiding her closer with a hand at her ribs. Savannah melted into it, breath shaking, lips soft and open under theirs.
Her hand flexed at their chest, trembling and intent.
Tilly pulled back just enough to see her — really see her.
Her lips were swollen.
Her breathing uneven.
Her eyes were wide and glassy.
She was the most beautiful thing Tilly had ever seen.