Page 61 of One Forbidden Moment

Chapter 23

Jillian

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The toaster popped, but nobody was there to catch the bread.It slid across the counter and hit the floor with a dull thud.

Moe pressed her against the hallway wall.Her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt.He was breathing hard, a low sound that vibrated in his chest and echoed against her collarbone.Ever since the shadow visited and Finn explained what was going on, there was a frantic energy between her and Moe.A sense of borrowed time that made every touch feel like a desperate reclamation.

The mood was heavy with the knowledge that even the house wasn't safe anymore.

Moe grunted, a short, rough sound, and wrapped his arms around her waist to lift her off her feet.He was older now, with lines around his eyes that deepened when he concentrated.

His presence in her life, though it came unconventionally, was now the only thing Jillian trusted in the world.

The beginning of their life together had been violent and terrifying, but the terror had shifted into something else over the months.The Stockholm effect was a cliché, but the way she felt when he looked at her now was a reality she couldn't ignore.He had taken her by force, but he had kept her by becoming the only person who truly knew her.

He carried her back into the kitchen, his boots thudding heavily on the linoleum.He didn't bother setting her down gently.Instead, he hoisted her up onto the tiled countertop, shoving aside a stack of mail and a bowl of fruit to make room.Jillian wrapped her legs around his hips, pulling him flush against her.She could still smell the cold outside air, clinging to him from his morning ride.

"We really don't have time for this," she whispered, though his hands were already sliding under her shirt, gripping the skin of her lower back.

She needed to go to work in a couple of hours.It was the first time they'd be apart after Finn's warning to stay together.

"Then stop talking," said Moe.

Jillian breathed, her voice a jagged edge.She arched her back, pressing herself into him, the friction of their clothes an unnecessary barrier.The urgency wasn't just desire.They both knew their world had been breached, that danger surrounded them.

Every second she spent in this kitchen was a gamble, but the thought of leaving this house without feeling him inside her felt like another kind of death.

Moe groaned, a sound of surrender, and dropped to his knees.The shift was sudden, his heavy frame crowding between her legs.He didn't hesitate, his rough hands sliding up to grip her jeans, pulling her to the edge of the tile as he removed her pants and panties.When his mouth found her, the world narrowed to heat and wetness, the contrast of his coarse stubble against the sensitive skin of her inner thigh.She gripped the edge of the counter, her knuckles white, her head falling back as she let out a sharp, uncontrolled gasp.He was thorough, his tongue tracing her with slow, deliberate precision, as if memorizing her, as if this might be the last time he ever tasted her.

"You're shaking," he murmured against her skin, his voice vibrating through her entire body.

He rose to his full height and looked at her, his eyes dark and focused, the expression of a man who had spent a lifetime taking what he wanted but had finally found something he was afraid to lose.

Jillian reached across, her fingers fumbling with the button on his jeans, her movements hurried and impetuous.She pushed the denim down, freeing him with frantic energy, and for a moment she just looked at him.

She slid off the counter, dropping to the floor to return the favor, her mouth closing around him with a hunger that mirrored his own.She wanted to swallow the fear, to replace the memory of the shadow, to reclaim every single second of the trauma and turn it into something that belonged to her.