Page 6 of Let it Sizzle (Playing with Fire #3)

I don’t even think about it. I stand, walk around the table, and sit down right next to her like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

Close enough that my thigh brushes hers.

Close enough that I can feel the heat rolling off her skin.

She stiffens a little in surprise, but she doesn’t move away. Not even an inch.

I reach for her plate casually, sliding it a little closer to her, my hand brushing along the inside of her thigh under the table. Slow. Deliberate. Just enough pressure to make her breath catch.

God, she’s warm and soft. And when I glance sideways at her, she’s biting her lip, her whole body tense like she’s fighting not to lean in closer.

I lower my voice so it’s just for her. "Easier to hear you like this."

She swallows hard, and nods like she can’t find her voice.

I could tell her it’s just about the noise, but we both know it’s a lie. I’m right where I want to be.

I keep my hand resting lightly on her thigh, stroking slow, absent circles with my thumb like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And the way she squirms, the way she fidgets with her fork and keeps sneaking glances at me from under those long lashes?

Yeah.

I know she feels it too.

I can't stop touching her. Can't stop looking at her. Like if I blink too long, she might vanish again. Like those missing years might swallow her up and leave me standing here, wondering if I dreamed her up in the first place.

"You know," I say, my thumb tracing lazy circles against the back of her hand, "the town never felt the same after you left."

Her head lifts, surprise flashing across her face.

I nod, holding her gaze. "Places were still here. People too. But it was like someone turned down the color. Nothing felt right without you in it."

Her mouth parts slightly, like she wants to say something but doesn't know how. Her fingers twitch in mine, but she doesn't pull away.

"You didn’t just leave a house behind, Serena," I murmur. "You left a hole."

The air between us thickens, humming with something raw and electric. The waiter drops our plates off, but I barely notice. My whole world is this table. This girl. This second.

We eat, talk, and pretend everything's normal, but the tension never fades. It coils tighter every time her knee brushes mine under the table, every time her breath catches when I lean in to say something too intimate to be said above a low whisper.

When we're finished, I toss some cash down for the bill before she can even think about reaching for her purse.

I know I don’t want this night to end. Not yet. Not with her still looking at me like that—like she’s unsure if this is real. Like she’s afraid I’ll disappear again.

When we step outside, the first droplets of rain start to fall, cool against my overheated skin. I glance up at the sky, then at her, and before I can think better of it, I reach for her hand.

“Come here,” I say, tugging her gently toward the alley beside the restaurant, where the narrow brick walls offer just enough cover. She lets me pull her in, and when we stop, she’s pressed against me, her body molded to mine like it’s always belonged there.

Her chest rises and falls against mine, fast, and when I look down at her, she’s already staring up at me with wide, unsure eyes. There’s something about that look—soft, hopeful, a little afraid—that makes me want to protect her all over again.

And I can’t hold it in anymore.

“I need to tell you something.”

She nods, her gaze never leaving mine, like she already knows it’s going to matter.

“Ever since that night,” I murmur, brushing a strand of damp hair from her cheek, “the day you left… I haven’t stopped thinking about you.”

Her lips part, but I keep going, my voice low, steady, and just a little rough.

“Not a day’s gone by that I haven’t wondered if you were okay. If you were happy. And now that you’re here, standing in front of me again, I realize I don’t want to go another day without you in my life.”

She swallows hard, her hands curling into my shirt. “I felt the same way,” she whispers, breath shaky. “After the night you pulled me out of the house. For years, I didn’t know if it was just me… if I made it all up in my head. But that night? It never left me either.”

I exhale, something tight and raw uncoiling in my chest.

“I should’ve told you sooner,” I say. “Should’ve come after you.”

Her smile is small, but it lights up her whole face. “I wouldn’t have been ready back then. You found me anyway.”

And then I kiss her.

Soft at first—just a brush of lips. But when she sighs against me, I deepen it, tilting her chin and pressing her back into the brick wall behind us.

Her body melts into mine, her fingers sliding up to cup the back of my neck, and the taste of her—sweet, a little breathless, all mine—makes my knees damn near give out.

Her lips are soft, hesitant for all of two seconds—then she opens for me, and I swear I lose my goddamn mind.

I kiss her like I’ve been dying for it. Like my body’s been waiting eight long years for this exact moment, and now that I’ve tasted her, I’m never going back. My tongue sweeps into her mouth and she moans, sweet and breathy, and that sound? It shoots straight to my cock.

I grip her hips, pressing her back into the wall like I’m claiming her, staking territory I’ve never had but always wanted.

Her curves mold to me perfectly, like her body was made for mine to hold.

And fuck, when she presses her thighs together, grinding just the tiniest bit against me? I nearly lose control.

"Levi—" she breathes, and it’s all the encouragement I need.

I slide one hand up her body, dragging my palm over the swell of her breast until I’m cupping her through the fabric. She gasps against my mouth, and I groan, thumbing over her nipple until it peaks under my hand.

“Fuck, baby… I’ve dreamed about this,” I growl against her lips. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you like this. To feel you. Am I dreaming?”

She shudders, her fingers clutching at my shoulders, pulling me closer.

“You’re not dreaming,” she whispers, voice wrecked. No. This is real. And I want more.

I drag my mouth down her neck, kissing, sucking, nipping until she’s trembling.

Her head falls back softly against the brick wall, giving me full access to the soft column of her throat, and I take my time worshipping her.

She smells like vanilla, and when I kiss the curve where her neck meets her shoulder, she lets out a soft, broken sound that damn near undoes me.

“I need to take you home,” I rasp, breathing hard. “If we stay here much longer, I’m going to fuck you right here against this wall.”

Her eyes flash with heat. “Then what are you waiting for?”

I don’t hesitate for a second and we both run to my truck. I drive like a demon possessed holding her hand tightly all the way home.

By the time I get her inside my house, my hands are shaking with how badly I want her.

I barely get the door closed before I’m kissing her again, deep and rough, like I’m trying to drink her down. I take off my shirt.

She’s breathless when I pull back.

Eyes wide.

Body trembling.

She’s so goddamn beautiful it hurts.

I reach for the light switch, but her hand shoots out to stop me.

“No—wait.” Her voice is small. Shy. “Can we… can we leave it off?”

I freeze, my hand hovering above the switch.

She’s not looking at me.

She’s staring at the floor like she’s bracing for me to laugh at her, like she’s already expecting rejection.

My gut twists into a hard knot.

“Baby,” I rasp, stepping closer until my chest brushes hers. “Don’t you know how long I’ve waited to see you?”

She stills.

I tilt her chin up, forcing her to meet my gaze even in the dimness.

“I want to see you,” I growl. “All of you. Every soft, gorgeous inch. Don’t hide from me. Ever.”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t argue.

Good. Because I’m done waiting.

I flick the lights on and kick my boots off, grabbing her hand and leading her to my bedroom.

When we get there, I don’t rip her dress off like some impatient asshole, even though my dick is so hard it’s painful.

No. I need to take my time with Serena. Show her she’s beautiful and that I want every damn inch of her.

I trail my fingers over her collarbone, the curve of her shoulder, the swell of her tits pressing against the fabric. She’s breathing hard, chest rising and falling, and I can feel the tremor in her body as I slide the straps of her dress down one by one.

“You’re fucking perfect,” I whisper, dragging my mouth down the side of her neck as I push her dress lower.

Her tits spill free, full and heavy, nipples tight and begging for my mouth. I cup them both in my palms, squeezing gently, thumbing over the peaks until she whimpers and presses closer.

“You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about these perfect tits,” I growl. “How many nights I jacked off thinking about sucking on them, burying my face between them while you rode my cock.”

She moans as I slide her dress the rest of the way down, letting it slip over her gorgeous body, pooling like silk around her ankles. I step back, just for a second, because damn—I need a minute to take her in.

But she looks away, her arms twitching like she wants to cover herself.

Not a chance.

I reach out, tilt her chin up with two fingers, making sure she’s looking me straight in the eyes.

"Look at me," I murmur, voice low, rough. "Look at how I’m looking at you."

Her breath catches.

"You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen," I add, tracing my thumb along her jaw, slow and reverent. "And I’m not letting you hide from that."

She bites her lip, all shy and unsure, but her body leans into mine like she wants to believe me. And fuck, I’m going to make sure she does.

I don’t even pretend to be gentle when I lift her into my arms and carry her to the bed.