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“JD—” my whisper breaks on his name, a confession of need tangled within those two letters.
“Shh,” he soothes, his thumb tracing the line of my jaw. “Let me take the lead for once.”
There’s a promise in his closeness, an unspoken pact sealed in the inches that separate our lips.
“Close your eyes,” he whispers, and I obey, letting the darkness envelop me.
The world narrows to the heat of his presence, the steady rhythm of our breathing, and the electric charge of his lips hovering just out of reach. I ache to bridge the distance, to taste the assurance of his kiss—the certainty I’ve been craving without even knowing it.
And then he kisses me, softly, like the first drop of rain on parched earth, but charged with the power of a brewing storm. The gentleness surprises me; I’m used to the harsh grip of reality, not the tender hold of longing.
My heart pounds, a staccato beat against the walls I’ve built so carefully around it. With each second, they crumble a little more, revealing the raw truth of my desire. His lips move against mine with a reverence that speaks volumes, telling me that this moment, this connection, means as much to him as it does to me.
In the sanctuary of his embrace, beneath the stars that have witnessed countless tales of love and loss, I surrender to the kiss, to the terrifying beauty of falling—no, of walking into something deep and profound with JD.
The kiss shifts, growing hungrier, more insistent. JD’s hands find the small of my back, pulling me closer, his grip firm yet careful, as if I’m something precious. The heat from his body sears through the thin fabric separating our skin, and my own hands rise of their own accord, palms pressing against the solid wall of his chest.
“Cheree,” he rumbles against my lips, the sound vibrating deep in his throat, it sends a shiver through me, not of cold, but of want—a need I’ve denied myself for so long it feels foreign and familiar all at once.
“JD,” I breathe out, the word barely a whisper, a confession.
My fingers curl into his shirt, clinging to him, to the moment. I feel the steady beat of his heart beneath my touch, its rhythm matching the thrumming in my veins.
His mouth moves with mine in a dance as old as time, yet every brush of his lips feels like a discovery. I taste the hint of smoke and the open road on his breath, a flavor as intoxicating as bourbon.
The world around us fades away, it’s just JD and me, our breaths mingling, our bodies pressed together, speaking the language of raw emotion without uttering another word. Every scar, every battle we’ve faced, it all melts into this kiss, forging something new and unbreakable between us.
My thoughts whirl, a chaotic storm, but at the eye of it all is JD. In his arms, I find an anchor, a peace that’s eluded me since I can’t remember when. It’s terrifying, this intensity—like riding through a night thunderstorm, lightning illuminating the path, thunder echoing the pounding of your heart.
“God, Cheree,” he groans, pulling back just enough to look into my eyes. “You have no idea what you do to me.”
I can only nod, breathless, feeling the warmth and strength of him beneath my hands. His shirt is a barrier I yearn to tear down, to explore the truths hidden beneath, to know every inch of him.
“Then show me,” I challenge, the darkness in my voice mirroring the night around us. It’s an invitation, a dare, laced with the vulnerability that I’ve only ever let him see.
Our kiss resumes, deeper still, it consumes all my fears and hesitations. As passion ignites, wild and untamed, it’s clear this, right here with JD, is where I belong. Wrapped up in each other, we lose ourselves to the night, to the fire that we’ve kindled together—a blaze that could either save or scorch us to the ground.
He pulls away just enough so our eyes can meet, breaths mingling in the tight space between us. The firelight flickers across his scar, painting him in hues of danger and mystery. His chest rises and falls rapidly, mirroring my own erratic heartbeat. It’s as if the silence speaks volumes, telling tales of a connection that runs deeper than either of us anticipated.
“Cheree,” he says, voice roughened by emotion. “What we have—”
“I know,” I interrupt.
His thumb traces the line of my jaw. Our heavy breaths slow in tandem, a synchronized rhythm that anchors me to this man, to this moment.
“Never thought I’d find peace like this,” I confess, leaning into the solid embrace of his arms. “With you, it’s different. It feels like... like coming home.”
“Home,” he echoes.
In the circle of his arms, I find a solace I didn’t dare dream of. It’s a comfort born from understanding. Here, with JD, I am more than my past, more than the sum of my scars.
JD stands and holds out a hand to me. I put my hand in his and let him pull me to my feet.
“JD,” I breathe out, my fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. “I’m scared.”
“Of me?”
“Not of you, of us.”
