Page 34 of Marked By Tank
I swallow.
“You do.”
Not really a question anymore.
His gaze holds mine.
“Yeah,” he says, voice low. “I do.”
The answer cracks something open in me.
I do not think.
If I think, I will ruin it.
I push up on my toes and kiss him.
For one split second, he goes completely still.
Then one hand lands at my waist and the other braces against the wall beside my head, and the kiss turns hot so fast it steals the air right out of me.
He makes a rough sound low in his throat that goes straight through my body. His mouth opens over mine, and I feel the exact second his control slips enough to let me taste what is under it.
Want.
Heat.
Restraint hanging by threads.
I kiss him harder.
I do not know where the boldness comes from. Maybe fear burned out every careful thing in me and left this behind. Maybe I just needed one thing in my life to be chosen clean.
His hand tightens at my waist.
Then he moves.
One smooth shift, and my back hits the wall.
The breath leaves me in a soft gasp.
He is there instantly. Big body, hard heat, one hand at my hip, the other still planted beside my head. The wall is solid at my back. He is solid in front of me. Everything about him feels too much and not enough at the same time.
My fingers fist in the front of his cut, dragging him closer, feeling the thick leather bunch in my hands.
He kisses me again.
Slower.
Deeper.
Meaner in the best way.
Like he has wanted this longer than he should have and is losing the fight anyway.
I make a sound I do not recognize.
His mouth leaves mine and drags along my jaw.
