Page 38 of If He Hadn't Cheated
“I like them. I don’t like dying in one.”
That earns a quiet laugh. He runs a hand through his hair, then opens the door. “Come on.”
The air outside hits cold and wet. My heels slip against the gravel as I run after him. By the time we reach the door, I’m soaked to the skin.
He unlocks the entrance and steps inside. The sound of rain fills the cavernous space like static. The house smells of cedar and wet stone.
“Power’s still on,” he says, flicking the switch. Light spreads across the marble floors.
I trail behind him through the wide halls, trying not to stare at the way his shirt clings to his shoulders. He checks the generator system, the security panels, the basement. Always focused. Always composed.
And somehow, that makes me want to break him more.
When thunder hits again, closer this time, he looks up at me. “You’re shivering.”
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not.”
He disappears for a moment, returning with a blanket he finds in one of the storage rooms. He drapes it around me without asking, his fingers brushing the back of my neck. The touch feels like an electric current.
He doesn’t step away right away. His hand lingers near my shoulder, his voice lower than usual. “You shouldn’t have come with me today.”
“Why not?”
“Because I can’t keep pretending this isn’t happening.”
My heart skips. “You think I can?”
His eyes darken. “You shouldn’t have to.”
The storm grows louder, the windows shaking. The air between us feels charged, like lightning waiting to strike.
He takes a step closer. “Tell me you want me to stop.”
I can’t. I don’t even try.
His hand finds my jaw, his thumb tracing the corner of my mouth. The warmth of his skin seeps through me, grounding and dangerous all at once.
I whisper, “Don’t stop.”
The kiss happens like a spark hitting fuel. It’s slow at first, restrained, like he’s still trying to convince himself he has control. Then it deepens, his hand sliding to the back of my neck, pulling me closer. My breath catches, my pulse racing as he moves with the kind of precision that feels learned but desperate.
When he pulls back, his forehead rests against mine, both of us breathing hard. “Lana,” he says, voice rough. “If I go any further, I won’t stop.”
“Then don’t.”
His restraint fractures.
He kisses me again, harder this time, and for a few heartbeats the storm outside becomes nothing but noise. His control, my fear, every wall we’ve built is gone.The world narrows to heat and breath and skin.
We end up on the bed tangled in sheets practically ripping put clothes off. Suddenly we’re both naked. His body hovering over mine taking me in with his eyes. Every inch of my body.
“Is there any part of you that isn’t beautiful?” Then he kisses me again before I have change for my mind to catch up. This isn’t sex with a faceless man. This is connection.
A part of you that has wished for a moment you never thought would come with someone you never thought was capable.
We make love.
