Page 46 of The Ampersand Effect

Subtly, and with effort to avoid disrupting their kiss, Grier gently, tactually traced the line of muscle from Tobin’s collar to her throat, pressing two fingers into the pulse beating like a caged animal. She smiled against Tobin’s lips. She shifted her head, trailing kisses down Tobin’s jawline to meet the jumping pulse at the angle of her jaw, darting her tongue over the artery before raking her teeth against it. “Mmm. Hypothesis accepted.”

Grier felt more than heard Tobin growl with need, “Come back.”

Tobin silenced her gloating, tangling her fingers in Grier’s hair and lifting her face so their lips could resume their indelicate dance. Grier loosed her own moan of approval, surrendering to Tobin’s teasing tongue while matching it with her own ravenous urgency.

They heard it together—the basement doorknob rattling, the door groaning open. They froze, lips entwined, listening, so in sync as they breathed each other’s air.

“How’s it going down there?” Harrow’s silhouette illuminated on the stairs.

The energy in the room shifted abruptly, the charge going out so fiercely it felt like the air had been sucked from their lungs. Tobin bolted upright, oblivious to the hurt flickering across Grier’s face, unable—and unwilling—to bury her feelings of rejection.

“Coming,” Tobin choked, clearing her throat. “I’m coming up. We’re done.”

Grier watched Tobin as Tobin grabbed her zippy and actually ran up the stairs, unaware of the ease with which her body now moved, having succumbed to the versed and persuasive skill of Grier’s attentive hands.

Alone, Grier sat in the quiet room. The absence of Tobin’s heat was a cool and hollow reminder of the ripened passion they had shared moments before. The peppery scents of ginger andcedar wood lingered, her only sense not numbed in the afterglow of her tempered arousal.

A knowing smile tugged at the corner of Grier’s lips as the encouraging instrumental notes of Taylor Swift’sEverything Has Changeddrifted around her. She quietly sang along.

Thirteen

Tobin ran out of the Savage’s basement like she was on fire. Parts of her were. That same fire had been stoked and fed by her dreams, breaking through the barriers she kept in place when awake. The feelings she’d been deliberately avoiding were no longer capable of being silenced. She wanted Grier.

But she couldn’t have her.

She’d fight her own desires, bottle them, bury them until they suffocated. A sacrificial offering—her heart for Grier’s impending hurt. It was an unequal but equitable trade, and it meant Grier would be safe. From her.

Tobin stared out the passenger window, knees pulled to her chest, trying to make herself as small as she felt.

She knew it would be a mistake going over there, asking for Grier’s help, knowing her self-control was dwindling. But she had been in so much pain, and the memories of Grier’s effect on her arm had beckoned her to see what she could do for her back. Lying there, with Grier’s hands roaming her body, she felt the stirrings of arousal instantly—and fought them with every hitched breath she tried to hide.

But Grier had read her like a book.

She chewed on her lower lip as memories of Grier swirled behind her eyelids like an afterimage of arousal. She could still taste the remnants of Grier’s chapstick on her lips, a light, invigorating mint tingled with the heat of their kiss.

Kisses. She could feel the feral growl caught in her throat when she demanded Grier return to her, her prideful teasing driving her toward Tobin’s own racing pulse. Subtly, she pressed her fingers to her throat, confirming what she already knew—her pulse was still racing, desire unquenched.

“We kissed.”

“I know, Tobin.” Harrow was unfazed by her declaration, but gentle.

“We kissed.” Tobin said again. Her body—ignited only minutes before—was numb, and her mind felt like a scratched record, looping the same sentence:We kissed. We kissed. We kissed.

“Tobin? Are you okay?” Harrow’s voice radiated concern.

She flung her head back against the headrest and groaned. “Everything is so much worse.”

“Worse? What are you talking about? Have you even noticed that you can walk again? Tobin, everything is better.”

No, Tobin thought.No, everything is definitely worse.

“Tobin. Have you noticed that you can walk?” Harrow pressed. “Hmm? What?” She whispered.We kissed.

“Have you noticed that you can walk?” Harrow drawled.

Tobin looked down at herself, releasing her legs from her chest and placing her feet on the floor. “I… feel nothing. I don’t have any pain.” She looked at Harrow, shock evident in the whites of her eyes. “You don’t haveanypain? None at all?” Harrow’s voice softened.

Tobin came out of her fog, taking stock of her body. She noticed a light warmth in her low back, where Grier had releasedher straining muscles. She felt more air filling her lungs as she took gradually deeper breaths. “No. None.”