Page 170 of Sweet Nightmare

Because I’m angry with myself, too.

I shouldn’t want her.

Not like this. Fuck.

“This can’t happen,” she whispers.

She means whatever the hell is happening between us.

“Shit.”

Neither of us moves.

She should stay away from me. We both know it.

Yet here we are, rooted to the spot.

My gaze drops to her glossy, nude lips and the tiny freckle on her upper lip.

Fuck.

My hand moves before my brain can stop it. I reach for her neck, surprised by the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips.

Artemis freezes.

So do I.

Her eyes widen, mirroring the shock tearing through me. Every instinct tells me to step back before this becomes something we can’t undo.

I ignore every fucking one of them.

My fingers settle against the side of her neck, just above her delicate necklace. I step closer.

She doesn’t pull away and she doesn’t tell me to stop.

And suddenly, there’s no space left between us.

For one suspended heartbeat, neither of us breathes.

Then I do something really fucking stupid.

I kiss the fuck out of her and the second our lips touch, the world goes silent. The wind disappears. The snow, the music in my head. Everything.

There’s only her.

Her warm lips against mine.

I kiss this gorgeous woman like I’ve forgotten how to breathe without her. It’s neither soft nor sweet. It’s every argument we’ve ever had finding a language neither of us understands.

Heat against cold.

Fear against restraint.

And somehow, she feels familiar.

Terrifyingly familiar.

I don’t know how long we stay like that, but when we finally pull apart, we do it slowly. Reluctantly.