Page 16 of Forever, Never, Always (Forever #2)

Her breath is shallow against my lips, but she doesn’t pull away this time. Not like before. Instead, she stays there with her eyes closed and her forehead resting against mine like she’s trying to memorise every detail as her eyes roam my face. “I shouldn’t want this,” she eventually whispers.

“I know,” I breathe, “but we do. It feels right.”

“If Zoe ever found out . . .”

“She won’t,” I say quickly. “No one has to know right now. Just . . . say yes.”

There’s a beat of silence between us. It hangs heavy. She could still ask me to leave, and I would—this time for good—but I see that flicker of surrender in her eyes.

She nods once, barely, and it’s all I need. I slam my mouth against hers, and this time, the kiss is bruising as I walk her backwards. There’s no hesitation anymore. No asking. Her hands find my shoulders then slide into my hair, pulling me closer like she’s been starved for this . . . for me.

We stumble back, all our earlier guilt forgotten. Her lips are warm and soft, just like I imagined, and as we fall back onto the couch, it feels like we’re crossing a line we’ll never come back from.

And neither of us want to.

She clambers over me, pressing her delicate hands against my chest as she pulls back, breaking the kiss.

I slide my hands around her waist, keeping eye contact as I slide them up under her shirt, running my hands over her soft skin.

Her chest rises and falls in time with mine, and when I gather her shirt, she helps me lift it over her head, throwing it to the floor.

She’s naked underneath, and I move closer until my lips are almost touching her nipple. I glance up, “If you want me to stop—”

“I don’t,” she whispers.

I circle her nipple with my tongue, enjoying her sharp intake of breath. And when I suck her into my mouth, her fingernails dig into my shoulder, and she grinds against my straining erection.

She reaches for my shirt, clumsily unfastening the buttons as I continue to tease her. “God, I’ve thought about this long before I should have,” she pants, tugging my shirt from me and discarding it.

“Me too,” I admit, popping the button on my jeans before pulling my wallet out and taking a condom from it.

She climbs from me, making fast work of removing her clothes as I slide my jeans from me, kicking them to the pile of abandoned clothing.

And then I stop, looking at her and drinking her in.

Every curve, every inch is . . . “You’re so damn beautiful,” I say, my voice sounding gruff.

Her cheeks colour slightly, and I reach for her hand, tugging her to sit back over me so I can pull her in for another toe-curling kiss.

My fingers trace down her sides and along her thighs until she’s panting for air between clumsy kisses.

I rip the condom packet open and sheath my erection. And when she finally lines me at her entrance, sliding onto me inch by inch, we both groan like our worlds have titled. Her hands grip my shoulders, her nails gently biting into my skin as she begins to ride me . Fuck . She feels good.

We move together, every thrust a silent confession.

We’ve both wanted this for too long. I grip her around the waist, turning us so she’s lying beneath me.

The hunger in her eyes lights a fire inside me as I thrust harder.

Her lips roam my chest, then my shoulder, then my throat, with her teeth gently grazing my skin.

She comes undone first, crying out and arching her back.

I catch her nipple, dragging every ounce from her as she writhes beneath me.

I follow seconds later, groaning as I strain to empty every last drop.

I bury my face against her neck, breathing hard as we both come back down to Earth.

I drop down beside her, pulling her into my side and wrapping my arms around her tightly, like I’m afraid she’ll regret what we just did.

We stay like that for a few minutes, catching our breaths as silence stretches out between us.

Eventually, she says, “We just made everything a lot more complicated.” She traces her fingers over my chest.

I kiss her forehead. “I’ll protect you from the chaos.” Because there’s no way I’m letting her go now.

Zoe

“Have you heard from him?” asks Meg as she places two coffees on the table.

I shake my head. “I should have known,” I almost whisper, stirring my drink. “I just wasn’t supposed to get the nice guy.”

Meg sighs, placing her hand over mine. “You deserve to be happy, Zo. Maybe Ric just isn’t it for you, but there will be someone out there. Someone who will treat you like the queen you are.”

I place the spoon down, mulling over my next words carefully. “He likes Sofia.”

She stares wide-eyed. “Of course, he doesn’t. Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I asked him, Meg. I asked outright, and he didn’t deny it.”

She looks shocked, which I’m glad about. At least it hasn’t been blaringly obvious. “Is that why he ended things?”

“Yes. No. Maybe.”

“And that’s why you thought she’d told him about the abortion?”

“I didn’t know at that point, but I only told you two. I shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions. And it turns out he found out from the emails on my phone.”

“Oh.” She frowns. “Wait, he went through your phone?”

I half laugh. “I’d be mad if I wasn’t so . . . sad.”

“Oh, Zo, I’m so sorry this happened. What a mess.”

“Sofia doesn’t know how he feels,” I say, “and I told him not to tell her.” Meg bites her lower lip, and I groan. “Does that make me terrible?” She shakes her head. “I don’t want to lose her, and I thought if she never knows, we’ll be fine. We can just carry on like Ric never happened.”

“You’re trying to keep your friendship, and he’s got no right trampling between you. Anyway, Sofia wouldn’t go there.”

“But if she knew . . . if she felt something too . . .”

“She wouldn’t,” Meg repeats more firmly.

I don’t reply because there’s a nagging whisper in the back of my mind telling me I might be wrong and that me preventing him from telling her is more to protect my own heart and dignity over our friendship. What kind of a person does that make me?