Page 35 of Twisted Truths

Her lips are soft and pliant against mine, answering my kisses with the same urgency I’m trying—and failing—to hold back. I grip her waist tighter, pulling her closer, and her heart pounds against her chest in the same frantic rhythm as my own.

She’s Sunfire Circle. She should be my enemy.

What the hell am I doing?

I break the kiss for a beat, but my hands don’t move. They can’t. Her soft scent of lavender and mint is messing with my head. “This is a mistake,” I whisper against her mouth.

Hadley looks up at me, her cheeks flushed and pupils blown wide, like she feels it as much as I do. Yet she doesn’t say anything to stop me when I kiss her again.

My body is an idiot. She fits against me likeshe belongs here, like she was made to. Because something about her—something deeper than the layers of cult rhetoric or secrets—calls to something buried deep within me.

Still, the voices in my head won’t shut up.

She’s dangerous.

She’ll ruin you.

Pushing those voices aside, I kiss her harder. Angrier. Like I blame her for this chaos inside me when I know damn well it’s mine.

Her hands move over my chest, and snake around my neck. She tangles her fingers in my hair, tugging gently, and I lose whatever grip I had on my sanity. My heart and my head are at war, and my body?

My body has surrendered.

“Wait,” Hadley murmurs between kisses. “Wait.”

I force myself to pull my lips away, breathing hard, but I don’t give her an inch of space. Bringing my hand up to cup her cheek, I swipe my thumb along her kiss-swollen bottom lip. “What is it about you, little possum? Why am I so drawn to you?”

She closes her eyes and draws in a deep breath. When they open, I’m struck by the vulnerability in her gaze. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have?—”

I shut her up by pressing my lips to hers in a soft, closed-mouth kiss.

“Weshouldn’t have,” I agree, resting my forehead against hers. “But I don’t regret it.”

My words shock the both of us.

Her lips part as her hands drop back to my chest, and my heart races under her touch.

“I don’t regret it either,” she whispers on a shaky exhale. “But this isn’t safe. If theyfind out…”

Anger tinged with an irrational fear for her surges through me. “Who? Gabriel?”

Hadley shakes her head, slowly pushing away from me. “There are rules. If they find out I … That we…”

I reach for her hand, but she evades me and backs up towards the compound. “Hadley?—”

“This is too dangerous. I can’t. I’m sorry.” She turns and flees into the trees before I can stop her.

Running a frustrated hand through my hair, I let her go, leaving me with more questions than I had before I spoke to her.

Fuck.

George Watson sitson the other side of a rich mahogany desk, a couple of brochures spread out between us as he goes through information about caskets and coffins, flower arrangements, service details, transportation, burials, gravestones. It’s overwhelming, but to say I’m distracted is an understatement.

I absentmindedly rub my thumb over my tingling bottom lip as he talks, recalling the delicate press of Hadley’s lips to mine. The way her tongue stroked against mine, slow and unsure at first, then building with confidence.

I shouldn’t be thinking about her—not now—but that kiss was …

“Nash?”