But it’s charged.
She rubs her arms, a shiver running down her spine. “Cold.”
I shrug off my jacket without thinking, draping it over her shoulders. She looks up at me, pulling it tighter around herself, swallowing in the warmth of me.
Her breath fogs between us.
“This is nice,” she murmurs. “Tonight. The dance. You.”
My insides snap.
I close the distance between us.
Her back hits the barn wall with a soft thud. Snowflakes cling to her hair as glitter. Her lips part, her breath a soft gasp that sends my mind into a tailspin.
“Faith,” I rasp.
“Yeah?”
“I’m not thinking straight.”
Her hands slide up my chest, slow and sure, fingers curling into the collar of my shirt.
“Good,” she breathes with the same hunger that’s burning me alive. “Me neither.”
Heat explodes through me, and I plant one hand beside her head, steadying myself. The other finds her waist, pulling her closer.
There’s no space between us now.
She tilts her chin up, her lips barely brushing mine.
And then?
I kiss her.
Hard. Hungry. All the days, all the years of buried longing burst out in one single, explosive spark.
She melts into me instantly. Her hands bury themselves in my hair, pulling me closer, kissing me back with desperate, urgent need. Her body presses against mine, soft and warm and perfectly molded to me.
I groan when her fingers tug at the back of my neck. She doesn’t hold back. She takes the kiss deeper, pulling me into her, matching every move with her own.
The cold disappears.
The night disappears.
Everything disappears.
Except her.
Her lips, warm and soft and fierce against mine.
Her breath catching when my thumb slips under the hem of her dress, brushing the bare skin of her thigh.
The soft little sound she makes, half gasp, half plea, when I press her harder against the wall.
“Dallas…” she breathes, trembling with need.
“Faith,” I manage, kissing her deeper, slower, then harder, the heat coursing through us as fire.
