Page 26 of You've Got The Love
“Amber.” He offers a faint, reassuring smile. “I’ve never done anything like this before. But I can throw a phone in a canal.”
The weak laugh that escapes me is mostly nerves, but it’s something. He disappears outside for a moment, and I hear a quiet splash. When he comes back, his hair is ruffled from the night air, and his smile is small but real.
“Gone,” he says, holding up empty hands. “No one can find us tonight.”
I let out a shaky breath. “Thank you.”
He shrugs like it’s nothing, but I can see in his eyes that it isn’t. He’s out of his depth, and yet he’s here.For me.
I sink back against the sofa, and he joins me, wrapping his arm around me again. I curl into him, letting his warmth replace the cold coil of fear in my stomach.
“You really think we’re safe?” I ask softly.
His jaw works. He doesn’t give the easy, confident answer I was expecting. Instead, he says quietly, “I don’t know. But I’m not letting you out of my sight.”
Something in my chest twists. He isn’t pretending to be a hero. He’s just…him—steady, warm, and mine, at least for this moment.
I let my fingers brush against his hoodie. The tiniest spark leaps between us. His gaze drops to my hand, then to my lips.
“Bas…” I whisper, my voice trembling for an entirely different reason now.
He hesitates only a second before cupping my cheek, his thumb stroking my skin. His breath warms my face as he leans in, and when his lips meet mine, the world outside ceases to exist.
There’s no danger. No running. No tracking phones or rival MCs. Just his warmth, his mouth on mine, the soft scrape of stubble against my skin. My fingers fist in his hoodie again as a broken whimper escapes me.
“Liefje…” he whispers against my lips. “You undo me.”
The sound of his voice, rough and low, unravels me completely. My hands slide up into his hair, threading through the soft strands, and I pull him closer, kissing him like I’ve been starving for it. He answers with a groan that vibrates against my mouth, his hands sliding down to my waist, tugging me flush against him.
I can feel the solid heat of his body against mine, and my pulse skitters wildly. His tongue brushes mine, slow andteasing, and I shiver, my whole body sparking under his touch.
When his hands roam up my back and down again, I arch into his touch, desperate to be closer, to feel more. He trails kisses along my jaw and down my neck, his lips warm and soft, his breath tickling my skin. A helpless moan slips from my throat, and he answers with a soft groan that makes my stomach clench.
Every brush of his hands is reverent, like he’s memorising me. My fingertips trace the line of his jaw, the scar on his neck, the hard muscle of his shoulders beneath his clothes. He smells like clean soap and the faintest hint of sandalwood, a scent that is already entirelyBas.
I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. But right now, on this barge, in his arms, I don’t care. All I want is him—this heat, this closeness, this slow-burning ache that feels terrifying and perfect all at once.
Chapter 14
Bastiaan
Amber tastes like fear and fire.
The moment her lips touch mine, it’s like years of restraint snap in half. Every reason I’ve had to keep my distance—every excuse, every wall I built—disintegrates. She’s trembling in my arms, her fingers in my hair like I’m the only thing holding her together. Maybe I am.
I pull her fully onto my lap, andChrist, the way she fits against me is obscene. Soft. Warm. Perfect. My body reacts before my brain can catch up, a groan tearing out of my chest as she presses against me. God, I’ve wanted this—her—for so long. And now that I finally have her here, I can barely hold myself back.
Her lips move against mine, hesitant at first, then hungry, like she’s been starving for this too. She whimpers when I grip her waist, and it shoots straight to my cock, hot and hard against her thigh. I want to lay herback, rip that sweater off, taste every inch of her until she’s shaking for a better reason than fear.
But I can’t. Not like this.
“Bastiaan…” she whispers, her voice shaky but drenched in need, and fuck, it almost undoes me.
I kiss along her jaw, down to the soft curve of her neck. Her scent—flowers and something sweetly, maddeningly her—wraps around me. She tilts her head, offering more, and I swear I almost lose it. My fingers dig into her hips, keeping her still because if she moves, if she evenrocksagainst me right now, I’m gone.
I press my forehead to hers, chest heaving. “Amber,” I rasp, my voice rougher than I want, “I want you. God, I fucking want you… but not like this. Not when you’re scared. Not when we’re running.”
She swallows hard, nodding, though disappointment flickers in her eyes. I kiss her once more, slow and deep, letting her taste linger on my tongue before I lift her off my lap. I tuck her against my side, and she exhales a shaky sigh.
