She’d suppressed it and suppressed it. Had pushed it down, down, down. And it was only now, with him holding her, like he wasn’t trying to pretend, that things felt good.
“Justice,” she whispered, his name barely audible with all the noise surrounding them.
He shook his head, just a fraction. She didn’t know why. Didn’t quite know what he was saying no to. But the song ended and he released her. But he didn’t rush her away like she had thought he might. Instead he stayed and talked to everybody. Everybody. He never did that. He stayed and helped put everything away, and so did she. They stayed until everyone else was gone. All the chairs in the barn put away.
It was completely silent. He was on one side of the barn, and she was on the other. Then he started to walk toward her, every step purposeful.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“For what?”
“I’m sorry that I said it wouldn’t mean anything to you. It was the wrong thing to say. It’s us. Of course it would mean something. That’s the problem, isn’t it? What I said was dumb. And it devalued us. Our friendship.”
“It’s the kind of wild thing people say when theywant to make excuses. So they can give themselves permission to do something they know is wrong,” he said. His eyes were hot on hers.
“Yeah,” she said, nodding. “That’s exactly right.” He kept on walking toward her, each step punctuated by a breath. By her heartbeat. What were they doing? She didn’t know the answer, but there was no question they were both doing it. They had stayed this late. They had danced. They were... They weren’t pretending that it wasn’t happening.
Then, he did something he’d never done before. He turned to her and reached out, cupped her cheek, his hands rough on her skin. He smoothed his thumb over her lips, down to her chin and up her jawline.
She was utterly captivated.
Thiswas how he did it.
How he got women to take their clothes off with reckless abandon and give themselves to him for a night. Who could blame them?
She’d known this man forever and it still made her want to give him everything. Anything. Whatever he asked for.
His movements were slow and deliberate, unmistakable.
This was not friendship. This was a seduction.
She wanted to say something. Anything. Maybe his name. But she didn’t have words. She didn’t have anything but feelings. Far too big to be contained. Too big to be turned into language. She knew a moment of terror, her stomach clenching fiercely. This was the last moment to turn away.
You’re lying to yourself if you think this is the turning point.
That voice, that insistent, overly honest voice, was right. She didn’t know where the turning point had been, but it wasn’t here. Not kissing him now wasn’t going to set them back to where they’d been before. It was just going to draw out what now felt inevitable. What felt essential. So she didn’t move away.
She didn’t know what she expected. A claiming, maybe. Or something questioning. Seeking.
She didn’t get either one.
Instead, with certainty, with confidence, he closed the distance between them, his mouth soft against hers.
If he hadn’t wrapped his arm around her waist then, she would’ve collapsed. Because her knees gave out. Entirely. And that was when the kiss became firm. That was when it became an exploration. He parted her lips beneath his and slipped his tongue inside, the friction of it sliding against her own so delicious she could hardly stand it.
It was all so deliberate, all so controlled, and then suddenly, it got away from them both. Suddenly, she wrapped her arms around his neck, and both of his arms went around her waist as the kiss became all-consuming. As it spread between them like a wildfire. At no point was she unaware of whose mouth she was devouring. At no point was she unaware whose hard body she was being held up against.
Justice.
Justice King was giving her the best kiss of her life.
It all made sense.
Because he was the best of everything. So why wouldn’t he be the best of this too?
Someone was saying yes. Over and over again, and it took her a moment to realize it was her, whenever she could come up for air. Whenever their mouths weren’t fused. They were breathing hard, like they had just run a race.
Like they were on the verge of collapse.
