Unbroken Rules (Rules 3)

“I should go.” I clear my throat and begin to turn away, but she stops me.

“Don’t. Stay.” Her face is barely an inch from mine.

“You don’t mean that. You’re just dru—”

I’m cut off by her mouth colliding with mine.

Sirens and warning bells blare out in my head. Still, I kiss her back. I jerk her body closer and cave to her familiar and eager lips. Tequila lingers on her tongue, but she tastes like fucking relief to me.

Relief, happiness…

Misery.

The misery I’ll feel when she comes to her senses and leaves me again.

I take her lip between my teeth, and a moan emanates from somewhere deep within her throat. I’m already so fucking hard you’d think we were doing way more than kissing.

Stop, this isn’t right.

My body won’t comply to my brain. I missed this. Her skin, her lips, every inch of her. I thought I’d never get to feel her this way again. Every touch feels like running out of time. I want more. I need more. But more may never come, so I can’t let go while it’s here.

I lift her up into my arms, and she closes her legs around my waist the way she’s done so many times before.

Winter.

My Winter.

I collapse on top of her on our bed, and she grinds against me with clear intent. She’s this close to being completely naked, and I know if she—

She unhooks her bra in one move and lobs it to the floor.

Just like that, I’m a goner.

My instincts take over, and I slide my hand up her ribs to grab a handful of her tits. I nibble at her neck, suck on the soft skin under her ear. Her breathing grows hollow, and when I twirl my tongue around her nipple, biting the tip lightly, she cries out. She captures my face and slams our mouths together again, seeking my belt to unbuckle it.

“I think someone’s awake,” she smirks and curves her hand inside my jeans.

Haze, what the fuck are you doing?

“Stop!” I snap back to reality. “We can’t.”

I’m off her body and back to my feet in seconds. I could punch myself. Talk about poor self-control.

“What? Why?” she questions.

“Because you’re not yourself right now.”

She’s about to say something, but she clamps her mouth shut, suddenly very aware of her nakedness. She covers her nipples with her arms. Silent, I walk to the closet and throw her one of the T-shirts I left here. One, because I couldn’t possibly pack everything all at once, and, second, because I needed an excuse to come back.

“I’m not sleeping with you knowing that you’ll regret it tomorrow. I respect you too much.”

“I won’t. I won’t regret it. Haze, I’ll never regret you.” The glimmer in her eyes kills me. The worst part is, I know, right now, in her drunk, non-Winter state, she genuinely believes that.

“Yes, you will,” I protest.

You already have.

She pulls my shirt over her head. I love seeing her wear something that’s mine. If it’s the only way part of me will ever be close to her again, I’ll give her my whole goddamn closet.