Page 40 of Tides of Change
The image was crystal clear.
I smiled, warmth blooming in my chest despite the anxiety still lingering there. “Looks good,” I called through the door.
The porch light cast a glow over Garrett’s face, highlighting his dark hair and the unruly lock that had fallen over his forehead. He brushed it back with one hand, but it slipped freeagain. For a moment, all I could think about was how good he looked standing there, framed by the soft light.
I opened the door. “Do you want to come in and wash your hands?”
He left his supplies on the porch and stepped in. His shoulders relaxed as he crossed the threshold.
I gestured toward the hallway. “Bathroom’s straight ahead.”
He disappeared for a moment, and when he returned, the faint scent of my woodsy hand soap clung to him. Something about that pleased me, a quiet, unspoken claim. My soap, my home. Garrett here.
“Thank you,” I said, barely above a whisper.
His gaze softened. “I’ve got your back.”
The air between us thickened with a buzzing current of electricity. My pulse quickened, my heartbeat loud in my ears as he took a hesitant step closer. The soft glow of the overhead light cast shadows across Garrett’s face, highlighting the sharp angle of his jaw, the dark sweep of his lashes, and that unruly lock of hair.
His gaze locked on mine, and the intensity stole my breath. There was no indecision in his expression—only certainty, only want.
I swallowed hard, my throat suddenly dry. Everything I’d been holding back crashed into the need building inside me. My fingers twitched at my sides and ached to reach for him.
And then, as if something had snapped between us, we moved at the same time.
Garrett gripped my face with a desperate reverence. His touch was firm yet trembled. I clutched his shoulders and pulled him closer. Any space between us was unbearable.
When his lips met mine, the kiss was anything but gentle. It was fierce and frantic, a collision of lips and breath that stole the air from my lungs. It wasn’t careful or soft—it was raw,all-consuming, like the release of everything we’d been holding back.
My back hit the door, but I barely registered the impact. All I could focus on was Garrett—the way his fingers tangled in my hair, the way his lips moved against mine with a hunger that matched my own. His kiss tasted of heat and desperation.
I gasped against his mouth, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue slid against mine, and the velvety glide sent a shiver down my spine. My hands slipped from his shoulders to his chest, and I felt the rapid thud of his heart beneath my palms. His heartbeat matched mine, wild and erratic, as if we were both caught in a storm we had no desire to escape.
Garrett pressed closer, his body flush against mine. The bulge of his hard cock thrust against mine, and I groaned. I clung to him, needing the contact, needing him. Every touch, every brush of his lips, was a fresh experience. A step forward into whatever this was between us.
When we finally broke apart, we were both breathing hard and our chests heaved in unison. Garrett’s hands remained on my face, his thumbs brushing my cheekbones in a tender contrast to the urgency of the kiss we’d just shared.
Garrett’s gaze held mine, a promise lingering in the depths of his blue eyes. He leaned in again and brushed a softer kiss to my lips.
Everything had shifted between us.
Where would we go from here? We hadn’t done anything more than kiss, yet they’d been the best kisses of my entire life. Hot, needy, earth-shattering.
What would it be like to take things further?
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Garrett
Early morning light seeped beneath my eyelids. I slowly blinked them open, but my mind was already wide awake, replaying every detail of the night before. The stalker. The spray paint.
The kiss.
I sat up and scrubbed a hand over my jaw, the rasp of stubble loud in the quiet room. The previous night wasn’t a dream. The timing hadn’t been perfect—a stalker’s threat wasn’t romantic.
But the moment had felt charged, like a spark waiting to catch fire, and I’d leaned in and let instinct guide me.
And Ethan? He hadn’t pulled away. Heck, he’d met me halfway with a quiet intensity that knocked the breath out of me. The kiss had been passionate and raw. Fervent. Hot. Eye-opening. And the way our hard cocks had ground together was a leap. Not just for me, but for us.
