Twenty-Two

Idropped my phone onto Lander's hardwood floor in my rush to kiss the shit out of him, and by the sound of it, the phone is ruined. I don't care. My phone isn't the only thing I'm breaking tonight.

It's a test of willpower to separate my lips from his, but I manage. Staring into his eyes, breathless, I say, "I'm going to break my rule."

Lander's eyebrows flick with surprise, which is adorable because, again, I'm kissing the shit out of him. Of course I'm breaking my rule.

"You're serious?" he questions—and there's that rare, crackly vocal fry again.

"Absolute—"

"YES!" Lander bellows, throwing his head back and smiling like I've never seen. "Fuck yes, baby." He's spinning us in a circle, laughing out loud, and planting kisses all over my face. I've never heard him laugh before, but it's glorious. The sound travels right into my chest, into the dense space where my heart resides, and this is the closest I've been to bliss in years.

He closes his front door and presses me against it, his body pinning me off the ground. The joviality immediately morphs into heat, and it's downright embarrassing how readily I wrap my legs around his waist.

"Valeria—"

"Lander—"

"When you said—" Kiss. "—you were breaking—" Kiss. "—your rule, did you mean—" Kiss.

I pull myself away from the last kiss and wiggle out of his arms, choosing to show him exactly what I meant. Grabbing his hand, I lead the way to his bedroom, practically running.

He follows me, looking windswept and elated, and at the same time, he looks like he's about to pounce on me if I don't move things along. I strip off my sweatshirt, revealing nothing but tits underneath because I knew exactly how tonight was going to go.

I came over here to get fucked.

"Shit, girl," he murmurs, perusing my bare chest with his burning gaze before he grabs me by the shoulders and tugs my half-naked body against his. His usually even expression has melted into disbelief, and his jaw remains lowered until he looks down at me and folds his lips over his teeth, exhaling through his nose.

He's going to eat me alive.

Somehow, I knew we'd get here a year ago. From the moment I laid eyes on this guy hauling a gigantic cardboard box labeled historical fiction out of the elevator, carved biceps bulging under a tight white t-shirt, I knew I would eventually get under him. Spread my legs for him. Let him rearrange my organs. For an entire year, I tried to resist it. I even convinced myself it was a monumentally bad idea. But that's the thing about kismet: If it wants you to fuck, you best believe you'll be fucking. And who am I to deny fate?

Gazing up at Lander, I do as he requested the first time we spoke.

If you ever need anything, ask.

Luckily for him, I'm a simple girl with simple wants and needs. I rise on my toes and kiss him before whispering into his ear, "Will you fuck me again, Lander?"