Chapter 246
CMWMBB 48
Venus
I didn’t have time to speak.
I didn’t even have time to breathe.
The door hadn’t fully swung open before Aaron moved-fast, decisive, as if the world had narrowed to a single point and I was it. His hands came up, framing my face, rougher than I remembered, desperate in a way that bypassed thought entirely.
And then his mouth was on mine.
Hard.
Unapologetic.
The sound I made was small, useless, swallowed instantly as he kissed me like he was afraid I might vanish if he let go. As if the argument, the house, the words-leave my house-had all been lies we’d told ourselves.
I should have pushed him away.
I didn’t.
My hands rose on instinct, fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket, anchoring myself to something solid before my knees gave out. His body was warm, familiar, devastating. Every memory lived there-in the way he leaned in, the way his breath hitched just slightly when I kissed him back.
Because I did.
God help me, I did.
The door shut behind us with a dull click I barely registered. I was aware only of him-of the weight of him crowding my space, of the way his hand slid to the small of my back like it had always known where to go.
I wasn’t thinking.
I couldn’t think.
My mind was noise and heat and grief, colliding until the only thing that made sense was this: Aaron was here. Aaron was touching me. Aaron hadn’t let me go.
He kissed me again, slower this time, deeper, as though he were trying to say everything he hadn’t allowed himself to say when he stood in that living room and told me to leave. His forehead rested briefly against mine, our breaths mingling, uneven.
“You-“I started.
He didn’t let me finish.
He nudged me backward, step by step, until the backs of my legs hit the table. I gasped as I sat, the world tilting, my hands braced behind me on the cool surface.
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My phone lay there.
I didn’t see it.
I noticed only the way Aaron’s jaw tightened when his eyes flicked downward, registering it in the periphery of his vision.
His hand shot out.
The phone was gone in a blur-lifted, flung across the room, hitting the wall with a sharp crack before skidding across the floor.
I didn’t care.
I was too lost in the way his hands came back to me, gripping the edge of the table on either side of my hips, boxing me in without trapping me. Giving me space while taking everything else.
“You shouldn’t- you shouldn’t be here,” I whispered, though the words lacked conviction.
“I know,” he said.
That was it.
Not an explanation. Just acknowledgment.
His forehead dropped to my shoulder. I felt the exhale there, heavy, like he’d been holding it in for hours. Days. Weeks.
“I’ve stayed away too long,” he said quietly. “I tried. But no more p>
My chest tightened painfully.
His hands shifted, one sliding to my wrist, thumb brushing over the place where my pulse hammered too fast. The contact grounded me and unraveled me all at once.
He lifted his head again, eyes dark, searching my face as if he were looking for permission, absolution, or something he’d already decided to take.
Then he leaned in again.
This time, I didn’t hesitate. My hands slid higher, clutching his shoulders, pulling him closer until there was no space left between us. The kiss was urgent, messy, the kind that left no room for thought-only sensation. His breath mingled with mine, uneven, ragged, as though he’d been starved of this for too long.
I tilted my head, deepening the kiss, tasting the familiar ache of him. My fingers threaded into his hair, tugging just enough to draw a low sound from his throat that vibrated against my lips. The sound undid me. I kissed him harder, reckless, surrendering to the pull that had always existed between us, the one that would always be there.
Aaron’s hands moved with desperation, sliding up my sides, memorizing me all over again. His thumb brushed the curve of my rib, his palm flattening against my back, pressing me into him. Every touch was a reminder-of nights we’d lost, of words we hadn’t said, of the truth neither of us could escape.
I broke the kiss only to breathe, but he chased me instantly, his lips finding mine again, slower now, coaxing
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instead of demanding. It was a rhythm we both knew, a language we’d never forgotten. My chest rose and fell against his, my pulse hammering in time with his own.
For a moment, there was nothing else. No house. No silence. No grief. Just the two of us, tangled in something too fierce to name.
That was when it hit me.
Not gently.
Not gradually.
Andrea’s voice slammed into my head, sharp and merciless.
One of Iris’s fingers.
The image was instant. Violent. Unforgivable.
I stiffened.
My breath caught, my heart lurched so hard it made me dizzy. The room snapped back into focus-the table
the lamp casting its small circle of light, the empty space where my phone had been.
beneath
me,
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
The words trembled-but they were clear.
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Ruby Walker
Ruby Walker is a rising voice in the world of romance and spicy fiction. With a gift for weaving deep emotions, sizzling chemistry, and unexpected twists, her stories are a blend of passion and drama that captivate readers from start to finish. Ruby’s writing style is bold and irresistible—perfect for those who crave intense, addictive love stories.