Page 69 of Full Out Fiend

Smooth.

I take two steps into the room, scanning her bedside table. Maybe she needs water. Or antacids. I’m no stranger to thecan you bring me more Tums?texts these days.

She shifts in the dark, sitting up a bit straighter and arranging the covers around her.

Her voice comes out a whisper—raw and emotive in a way I wasn’t expecting.

“When you left… you said this—us—that it’s my call… that it’s up to me…”

She strings the words together in a barely coherent thought. But the way she’s sitting there, the way she sounds so soft and open and—fuck—hopeful? This moment is so much more than recapping our earlier conversation. It has to be.

I stay quiet. I don’t trust myself to not jump to conclusions or put words in her mouth. If there’s even a glimmer of hope that she wants what I want…

I hear her inhalation. I sense her vulnerability. I clench my fists at my sides, willing her to go on.

She audibly swallows before she finally speaks again. “I don’t want us to be undefined anymore. I’m tired of tiptoeing around how I feel. I know this is complicated and rushed and it’s not just us we have to worry about… but if you meant what you said earlier…”

“Every fucking word,” I swear, taking two more steps toward her like a man possessed.

“Then I’m yours. I want to be yours.”

All the nerves in my body light up like fireworks on the Fourth of July. Every emotion, all the longing, every ounce of attraction I’ve shoved down and buried over the last few months fire off in rapid succession.

I rush to the bed, then force myself to halt at the edge—too eager and excited to even make sense of what to do next. I bend low and brush the hair off her face. Even in the dark—even when I can’t see her clearly—I know. I just fucking know. She’s never looked more beautiful.

“I’m going to kiss you now,” I murmur, cupping her jaw with one hand and tilting her chin up.

She presses her fingers to my lips before I can make good on my promise.

“I want you to do so much more than kiss me,” she whispers, both her arms circling my neck and pulling me down until our lips collide.

Chapter 38

Daphne

Heliftsmeeffortlessly,holding me to his body as he strides across the hall. When he kicks the door open, he grips me tighter, the muscles of his forearms flexing beneath me.

All that holding back. All that restraint. Now we’re here.

“You’re sure?” he asks on an exhale, placing me on the edge of his mattress before standing up to pull off his shirt.

I nod and eagerly drink him in. I’ve seen him shirtless plenty of times over the last month. But not like this—not when I could look and touch and appreciate every ripple and contour of his body.

“Just to clarify…”

The doubt in his voice breaks me out of my trance, and I study his face, taking in how his lips are pressed together.

He runs a hand through his hair like he’s nervous, looking over at the huge windows against the far wall before scrutinizing me, shameless vulnerability radiating from him.

“This is for real? Not just for tonight?”

My heart hammers in my chest as my insides melt to goo. This man routinely disarms me. But never more so than in this moment—when he’s confirming for his own peace of mind that I want him, that this is real, and that it’s not just a moment of weakness or a fleeting desire.

“For tonight. For tomorrow. For as long as you’ll have me—I want to be yours.”

“Fuck.”

I barely have time to process the reverent curse before he’s closing the space between us and crushing his lips to mine. “Do you know how badly I’ve wanted to hear those words from your mouth, angel?”