Page 164 of If By Chance


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He tucks me closer, my front flush with his chest, and if he notices how my body trembles, he doesn’t say. He leads with confidence—like always. I try to inhale deeply to calm my pulse, but breathing around him is hard.

I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m afraid if I do, my mind will catch up and realize what’s happening here, and I’m not ready to admit it yet.

As if reading my thoughts, his body shifts closer. I open my mouth to speak, but my words get trapped somewhere deep in my throat. I lick my lips because his eyes have wandered there.

“Jake?” I whisper, everything in me screaming for him not to come closer, but thinking I’ll die if he doesn’t.

“Claire?”

Another inch closer.

“What are you doing?”

I don’t think he blinks, and he doesn’t hesitate when he says, “Not kissing you is torture, but I’m afraid if I start, I’ll never be able to stop.”

There goes my heart.

Fully and wholly.

Because there’s no going back after this.

When my heart shatters, I’ll never be able to put it back together. The pieces won’t fit the same.

It’s almost like he’s waiting for me to stop him, but I can’t.

I couldn’t if I wanted to.

And I don’t want to.

I want to taste him.

Another inch closer, and his lips are hovering over mine.

“God, you’re perfect,” he breathes before his mouth presses to mine.

I stay still, not knowing if I should move because I don’t want to. I’m afraid if I open my eyes, this won’t be real.

The small vibration at the back of his throat when he begins to move makes me whimper, desperate for more.

His kiss is soft. Like he’ll break me if he deepens it. He pulls away slowly, but I don’t open my eyes.

“Christ,” he rasps.

His mouth comes crashing against mine.

It isn’t gentle this time.

It’s rough.

It’s demanding.

It’s annihilating.

I gasp. My mouth parts, and when his tongue brushes against mine, I moan.

I claw at his shirt as if I can somehow open him up and melt into him. I’m sure he’s breathing for both of us, swallowing my every pant and whimper. I feel his fingers in my hair. He tugs, tilting my head back, opening me up for a bruising kiss.

I was right.

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