CHAPTER 5: FIRST TIME

STEEL

  I'd been planning for this day for weeks. Her eighteenth birthday.

  The very day I wasn't going to let the world and its noise get to her. No one of those slimy rumors, no envious stares, no sticky-hand professors. Just her and I.

  She had no idea I'd overheard the way I did. She never imagined anyone would. But I caught the small things. How she'd talked once about how her mom made a strawberry shortcake every year. How she hated red roses but loved lilies because they represented new beginnings. How she'd never once had someone sit out her birthday without appearing to be dying of boredom.

  So, yeah—I listened. I remembered. And I decided she was gonna get every damn thing she deserved.

  I stood outside her dorm, leaning against the bike with the box sitting on the seat beside me. I heard her footsteps before I could see her—light, cautious, like she was already bracing herself for disappointment.

  When she swung the door open and spotted me, her lips parted.

  "Steel?"

  I hesitated, smiled. "Happy birthday, Sin."

  Her face softened at once. No one addressed her in that tone without me asking them to, no one but me.

  "What are you doing here?" she asked, tugging at the cuff of her sweater as she did when she was angry.

  "What does it look like? I'm kidnapping you for the day." I nodded at the helmet. "Don't argue."

  She laughed—God, the sound killed me every time. "You're unbelievable."

  "And yet you're smiling." I handed her the helmet, took the box. "Hold this carefully. It's for you."

  Her brows furrowed as she peered inside. The cake. Frosting white, strawberries on top. Not bakery-perfect, but I'd put in the hours. My hands were used to gripping handlebars and fists, not piping bags, but for her? I tried my best.

  Her hand rose to her mouth. "Steel… you made this?"

  "Don't laugh at it." I massaged the back of my neck, getting a shiver of nervousness. "Might appear to be a five-year-old's attack with crayons, but it'll be good-tasting."

  She shook her head once more, eyes glassy. "No one has ever done something like that for me before."

  I had to swallow hard, because damn if that didn't punch me in the stomach. "Get used to it. This is just the start."

  We bucked out across the edge of town, the wind rushing through us. She hugged me tight, her cheek against my back, and I swear I felt like I was home. I took her to the old viewpoint above the lake. No one came here any more—it was ours now.

  I spread the blanket out, set the cake upon it, and produced the small box from my jacket pocket.

  "What's this?" she asked, eyes wide.

  I unfolded it. A line of silver, delicate, with a tiny charm shaped like an ink droplet—because she always had graphite smudges on her fingers, always drawing, always creating.

  Her breathing hitched. "Steel…"

  "Don't get it twisted," I growled, tightening it around her neck. "It's not jewelry. It's a promise. You're mine. Today. Tomorrow. Forever."

  She stroked the charm gently, her fingers shaking. "You only say things like that."

  "Because I do mean them." I held her face, running my thumb across her cheek. "I've waited too long to observe you at a distance. I'm done waiting."

  Her lips parted, and she did not look away, for once. "I don't know how to do this."

  "Then show me." My voice dropped hard and husky. "Just let me know if I ever get out of control."

  Her throat knotted as she swallowed, eyes slanting to my lips. "Steel…"

  And that was it. I waited no longer. I kissed her.

  Slow at first, with the frosting still on her lips, her breath freezing on mine. Then more forceful, hungrier, like I'd been years without sustenance. Her hands crept higher on my chest, wrapping into my shirt, and I swear my heart ceased functioning.

  I stepped back, forehead to hers. "You're eighteen now. Nobody can do this to us. You're mine, Sin. Say it."

  Her whisper was shaky, but sure. “I’m yours.”

  Then with those words, the night shifted.

 Her whisper—"I'm yours"—was the dam break I'd been fighting for months.

 I pulled back enough to glimpse her face in the semi-darkness, the lake glinting in her eyes. She was skittery, yeah, but there was a spark, too. A kind of trust I hadn't expected.

 "Say it again," I whispered, tracing the tip of my thumb against her lip.

 She nibbled it gently before saying, "I'm yours, Steel."

 My chest pulled in so hard it ached. "Damn right you are."

 I kissed her again, slower. I wanted her to feel all of it—every promise, every hurt, every last fiber of patience I'd torched for this day. Her hands were tentative at first, tracing my jaw, then falling into my hair. When she tugged softly, a low growl escaped me.

 Her cheeks were aflame. "Did I… do that?"

 I smiled into her lips. "Angel, you don't know what you do to me."

 I put her back onto the blanket, leaning over her but not on top of her. My hands framed her face, moved to her shoulders, her waist. I memorized every curve as if I didn't have a second to spare.

 "You're shaking," I breathed.

 "So are you," she snapped back, her voice barely a whisper.

 That made me smile. "Fair enough."

 I kissed down the side of her neck, slow and deliberate, feeling her gasp. Every noise was a payoff. I'd never cared before about holding back for anyone—but her? Every second mattered.

 When my hand crept over her hip, she went rigid for a moment. I froze right away.

 "Too fast?" I asked, looking into her eyes.

 She hesitated, and then shook her head. "No… I just… I've never…"

 "I know." My tone was gentler now. "That's why we take it slow. You control it, Sin. You tell me when to stop."

 Her hands clamped on my shirt like she was afraid I'd disappear. "Don't stop."

 Those two words… shit. They crushed whatever hold I had on myself.

 I kissed her harder, my hand slipping under her sweater, following the warmth of her skin. She leaned against me, a low moan escaping her, and it nearly destroyed me.

 "You're so damn beautiful," I growled against her collarbone. "You have no idea how many nights I've imagined this."

 Her laugh was shaking. "You think about me that much?"

 "Every second," I confessed, stepping back far enough to catch her eyes. "I've had a crush on you since high school, Angel. You haunted me. Still do."

 Her lips trembled, and instead of answering, she pulled me back into her mouth.

 The sweater was taken off slowly, slowly. I did not want to look at her, but I did not want her to know that I was in a hurry. When the sweater moved over her head, she blushed and tried to cover herself with her arms.

 "Hey," I said softly, holding her wrists. "Don't hide yourself from me. You're perfect.".

 Her eyes blazed with doubt, but when I kissed the naked skin of her shoulder, then along her arm's line, she sank back.

 And then… her hands tugged on my shirt.

 "You want me to remove it?" I teased, raising a brow.

 She nodded quickly, chewing on her lip.

 I ripped it off in one motion, her eyes going wide as she stared. I chuckled low. "What? Didn't think the tattoos were real?"

 Her hand reached out, tracing the ink along my chest, slow and questioning. "They're… lovely."

 "Not half as lovely as you." My voice was gruffer now, heavier.

 She panted when I kissed down her chest, her belly, slowly. She wiggled under me, and I grinned on her skin. "Easy, Angel. We've got all night."

 Her laughter was breathless. "You're enjoying yourself, torturing me."

 "Damn right I am." I kissed down, just below her jeans, then back up to her. "But only because I know what comes next."

 Her pupils blew wide. "Steel…"

 That was all it took. Hearing my name said like that, hungry, shaking—it was gasoline on the fire.

 I kissed back up along her body, crouching over her, my mouth tracing her ear. "You ready for me, Sin?"

 She nodded, whispering, "Yes."