جميع فصول : الفصل -الفصل 30

Brielle didn’t sleep. Not after the way Jaxon kissed her in a hungry, desperate, slow at first, then with the kind of urgency that rewrote the temperature of the room. She could still feel it. His hands in her hair. His mouth trailing fire down her throat. Her fingers fisted in his shirt as if letting go might undo everything they’d fought through to get here. But what kept her awake wasn’t the heat. It was the way he whispered her name like it meant something. Like it meant everything. By morning, the sun had barely risen when she found herself pacing her bedroom floor, heart pounding at the memory of how she’d left him breathless, forehead resting against hers, both shaking and laughing like they couldn’t believe they’d actually crossed the line they danced around for weeks. She needed to see him. Not later. Not at the garden. Now. Before her fear caught up. Before doubt whispered all the reasons she should run. Before she convinced herself she imagined all of it. --

Brielle had been staring at her closet for fifteen minutes before admitting something absolutely humiliating: She was nervous. Genuinely, stomach twisting, pulse fluttering nervous. Nervous because it wasn’t just a date. Not after everything that had happened. Not after that kiss that long, heated, breathtaking kiss the one that felt like it had pulled every emotion they’d ever buried straight to the surface. Her fingers brushed her lips. She could still feel him there. The knock on the door nearly made her jump. Her mother called from the living room, “I think that’s for you, sweetheart!” Of course it was. No one else knocked like that. Firm, warm, a little too confident. Brielle took a breath, checked herself in the mirror soft curls, a simple dress, not overly done and stepped out of her room. Her mom looked far too excited, pretending to read a magazine while sitting on the edge of the couch like a teenager before prom. “Mom,” Brielle warned. “What?” her mom aske

The room was dark except for the soft golden wash of the bedside lamp, its glow settling over tangled sheets and the outline of two bodies already pressed close. Brielle wasn’t sure how they’d gotten here, how the slow kisses on the couch had become deeper, how deeper had turned into breathless, how breathless had turned into Jaxon murmuring “Come with me” as he laced his fingers with hers and led her toward the bedroom. But now she was here. In his arms. In his bed. With her heartbeat thundering against his chest like it was trying to reach him first. Jaxon lay on his side facing her, one arm beneath her head, the other draped low around her waist, pulling her in as if he’d been waiting years maybe his whole life to hold her exactly like this. His thumb made slow, warm circles against the small of her back, and each one sent a shiver right up her spine. “You okay?” he murmured, voice husky from everything they weren’t saying out loud. Brielle nodded, breath unsteady. “Too okay

The first thing Brielle felt was warmth. Not the kind that came from sunlight filtering through a window though that was happening too, soft and golden and gentle. No… This warmth was alive. Breathing. Wrapped around her like a promise. Jaxon’s arm was draped across her waist, heavy in the sweetest way, holding her close as if he were afraid she’d drift away the second he loosened his hold. Her back fit perfectly against his chest, their legs tangled under the blankets, skin brushing skin with every slow inhale. For a long moment, she didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t think. She just felt. His breath, warm against the back of her shoulder. The steady rise and fall of his chest pressed into her spine. The subtle tightening of his arm as he pulled her just a little closer, even in sleep. The soft whisper of his lips grazing her shoulder when he exhaled unconsciously, tenderly. Her heart fluttered in a way she’d never known it could. Last night had been… God. She still

The sound of the shower starting filled the hallway with a soft rush of water, a constant, rhythmic hiss that curled into the air like a whispered invitation. Brielle hadn’t even made it halfway to the kitchen before she realized Jaxon wasn’t behind her anymore. She turned. He stood in the bedroom doorway, shirtless, steam behind him like a halo rising from the bathroom. His eyes were fixed on her slow, heated, hungry in a way he didn’t bother trying to hide anymore. “Where are you going?” he asked, voice low and warm. “I, I thought we were cleaning up the dishes,” she said, breath catching the moment his gaze dragged down her body and back up again. He shook his head once, deliberate. “That can wait.” Her knees felt suspiciously unreliable. “Jaxon…” He extended his hand, palm open, eyes locked onto hers. “Come here.” God, that voice. That quiet command wrapped in gentleness. That warmth that always pulled her toward him like gravity. She stepped toward him. Maybe one st