Page 30 of Shooting Stars


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When her lips pressed against mine, I kissed back. It was a soft, chaste kiss, lips pressing sweetly against each other. The affection I felt for the woman lying in my arms was immeasurable. We separated, and I could now see the outline of her face as my eyes had adjusted to the dark.

“Jase.” She whispered my name, and her anguish bled through the darkness. I couldn’t stop myself cupping her nape and pulling her mouth to mine again, and this time our kiss was not soft. It was not chaste, nor sweet. My tongue sought entry to her mouth and she granted it with a whimper. I kissed her over and over until my dick was hard and she was wriggling against me.

It took every ounce of strength to rip my mouth away from hers, my breathing heavy. “Emilia.”

“I know.” Her fingers landed on my lips, tracing them softly. “We should stop.”

I was grateful I didn’t have to explain anything. Neither of us were thinking straight, the demons of our past having come back to haunt us. I wanted to give Emilia everything she deserved: champagne and silk sheets and rose petals.

Something I couldn’t do, not here and now.

But a part of me hidden deep inside hadn’t wanted to stop. Had been waiting for a long time to kiss Emilia, to get her naked and slide inside her. That part of me I’d never acknowledged existed because long ago, we’d agreed we’d never cross that line.

And it was only now, in the cloak of darkness as we lay together in a cheap motel in a little town in Kansas, that I realized the line had been long gone.

Maybe it had never existed at all.

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