Page 93 of Almost Ours
By the time I heard her soft footsteps returning, I was still in the middle of that argument with myself, no closer to an answer.
When she returned, I was leaning back against the headboard, running a hand through my hair to clear mythoughts. She looked at me and smiled–just soft, a little shy. And it knocked the breath out of me.
Her hair was slightly mused from sleep, falling in loose waves around her face. She wore my shirt from last night, the hem brushing mid-thigh, buttons undone, and the sleeves pushed up like she’d done it a thousand times. Her cheeks were still a little flushed and her eyes held something I couldn’t name, but felt like gravity.
She climbed back into bed, the mattress dipping beneath her, and before either of us could speak, our mouths found each other.
It started slow–tentative, tender–but when she sighed against my lips, it lit something in me. That hunger. That ache.
And I kissed her like I needed her to believe that last night hadn’t been a mistake. Because it wasn’t.
It couldn’t be. Not when it already felt like something I couldn’t let go of.
My hands slid under the hem of the shirt she wore, fingers tracing the curve of her waist. She didn’t stop me, instead, she lifted her arms out wordlessly, and I pulled the fabric off of her, revealing soft skin and bare curves that made my breath catch.
“Jesus, Harper,” I murmured, my voice rough with awe. “You’re beautiful.”
She looked away almost instantly, eyes darting toward the window like she was trying to pretend she hadn’t heard me. Like the words made her uncomfortable. Like she didn’t believe them.
That didn’t sit right with me.
I reached up, gently catching her chin between my fingers and tilting her face back to mine.
“Don’t look away,” I said softly. “You need to hear it. You need to believe it.”
Her eyes flicked to mine, uncertain and vulnerable.
“Every part of you,” I continued, brushing my thumb across her jaw. “You’re so damn beautiful, Harper. I wish you could see what I see.”
Her breath hitched, and she blinked rapidly, like she didn’t know whether to kiss me or cry.
I let my mouth follow where my hands had been, brushing kisses along her collarbone, down the slope of her chest. I wanted to taste her. To memorize every sound she made. I nipped gently at her nipple, and the way her body arched off the bed in response nearly undid me. Her hands tangled in my hair, anchoring me to her, her voice a breathless whisper.
“Ryan… please…”
The way she said my name–low, needy, full of trust–made something primal stir inside me.
“Tell me what you need,” I murmured against her skin, kissing down her ribs, across the soft line of her stomach. “I want to give you everything.”
She met my eyes, her voice trembling. “You. I need you.”
And hell, I was already hers.
I slid my hand between her thighs, the heat of her hitting me like a wave. When I eased a finger inside her, she gasped–head falling back, hips rocking against my hand. God, she was already so wet. So ready.
A second finger joined the first, my thumb brushing in slow, teasing circles as my other hand moved to her chest, fingers grazing her nipple until she arched off the bed, clinging to me.
“Ryan–” her voice was a breathless plea, and I didn’t make her wait. I shifted lower, pressing a kiss just above her hip before burying my mouth between her thighs. The moment my tongue met her, she let out a cry that made my chest tighten with need. Her hands tangled in my hair, her thighs trembling around me as I drew another gasp–then a full, unrestrained moan–from her lips.
She was unraveling for me, and I wanted to watch every second of it.
And then–
Ding dong.
We both froze.
Her body stiffened beneath me. I lifted my head, blinking in disbelief.
