Page 44 of Fierce-Colson

She parted her mouth, just a little, and he followed the invitation with a quiet sound in his throat that went straight through her belly and down between her legs.

His hand slid from her shoulder to her jaw, his thumb warm against her skin, tilting her face so he could deepen the kiss without breaking its rhythm.

Her pulse kicked up another gear.

This was Colson. Familiar and risky all at once. The boy who had once kissed her behind the bleachers, now a man who knew exactly what he was doing, and still chose restraint.

Barely.

She shifted closer, her knee brushing his thigh, and the contact sent a sharp awareness through her body. His breath hitched against her mouth. His grip tightened just a fraction.

“Marly,” he murmured, like a warning. Or a plea. Maybe both.

She knew what she wanted then. The clarity was startling.

Her bedroom was down the hall. Quiet. Private. One door away from forgetting every reason this was a bad idea.

She pulled back just enough to breathe, her forehead resting against his. Her voice came out softer than she had meant it to. “Stay.”

His eyes were dark now. Focused. On her mouth. Her eyes. The space between them.

He didn’t kiss her again. Not yet.

“I want to,” he said honestly. “Too much.”

Her heart thudded. “Then⁠—”

“But this isn’t the night,” he finished. “I told myself I’m not being reckless anymore. I can’t.”

The words landed hot, hard, and right at the same time.

He was being the mature one. It hurt as much as it helped.

Helped her see what she needed to.

She swallowed, fighting the disappointment even as respect bloomed alongside it. “Because of Bella.”

“And because of you,” he added. “And because if I cross that line tonight, I won’t do it halfway. I’ve lived with enough regrets. If we get a second chance at something, it’s going to be done without us wishing we should have taken the time to think it through more.”

Damn. She was the one who lived her life like that. Not him. Never him.

Her breath left her in a shaky exhale.

He pressed a final kiss to her lips, shorter this time, restrained, devastating in its promise and then rested his forehead against hers again.

“Another night,” she said.

He nodded, even though every part of her body protested the words she’d just said. But he was right. So very right. “Another night.”

He stood before she could stop him, giving them both distance. Space. Control.

If he stayed a minute longer, she was positive they’d both change their minds.

He was right. She didn’t want that regret.

At the door, he paused, his hand on the knob, and looked back at her with a crooked smile that was all Colson Ryder.

“Try not to think about me,” he teased. “But you know, if you do, and you need to do something about it...you can share that too.”