Page 123 of Wish You Were Mine
It was doing the exact opposite.
Instead of satiating my need for this girl, it only made me want more. More of her sighs. More of her skin beneath my hands and lips. More of the way she looked at me, like I was something she’d been aching for, too.
I shifted, turning us slowly until my back met the wall. My knees were about to give out, and the last thing I wanted was to drop her. So I slid down, bringing her with me, my hands steady at her waist.
She didn’t say a word. Just settled onto my lap like she belonged there—her knees on either side of my hips, her weight warm and perfect against me.
“We probably should’ve found a less cramped place to do this,” I murmured, voice rough as I looked up at her.
“Probably.” Her lips curved, the softest whisper of a smile.
But then, as if she didn’t actually mind the cramped quarters, she was kissing me again.
Soft at first—testing, teasing—and then deeper. Her tongue tangled with mine, igniting instant heat between us, like a match struck in the dark.
I groaned into her mouth, my hands roaming, sliding up her sides, tracing the elegant line of her spine through the thin fabric of her dress. Every brush of her body against mine made my pulse stutter, made the air in my lungs disappear.
She made a soft, involuntary sound, and I swear, it nearly undid me.
Because that noise?
It wasn’t just desire. It was trust.
Surrender.
Like she was as wrecked by this moment as I was.
Like maybe I wasn’t the only one who’d fallen so hard.
I curled my fingers into the fabric at her hips. Anchoring her…or maybe anchoring myself. I couldn’t tell anymore.
But one thing was clear: I didn’t want to stop. I didn’t want to go back to keeping our distance. Ever.
She exhaled softly, her breath mixing with mine as her fingers slipped beneath my shirt, slow and searching—as if she was looking for something solid in all this heat and wanting.
“I can’t even think when you kiss me like this,” she whispered, her voice barely audible, like it had been pulled straight from the center of her.
And that wrecked me.
Because maybe I wasn’t the only one losing control.
Maybe she was right there with me.
“I’m having a hard time thinking, too,” I admitted.
She leaned forward, her chest pressing flush against mine, and I swear I felt it all the way to my toes. My hands slid lower, finding her thighs, bare and warm beneath the hem of her dress. I curled my fingers there, grounding myself in the feel of her, in this impossibly perfect moment I never wanted to end.
And then?—
Footsteps.
Coming down the stairs.
We froze in unison, like someone had yanked the emergency brake on the universe, causing every cell in my body to go on high alert.
Because we were in a dark pantry. Alone. Tangled up. And this was not a moment we could explain away.
Not to Theo.
