Chapter 243: Just Us.
Sherry’s apartment was wrapped in a soft, intimate quiet, broken only by the low, forgotten hum of the TV flickering with some show neither of us was watching. We were stretched out on the couch, her back warm against my chest, my arms loosely wrapped around her waist. The weight of the day had finally begun to loosen its grip.
I pressed a small, distracted kiss to the side of her neck, lingering on the soft skin just below her ear.
She shifted with a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating against me. "Are you even watching this?"
"Not even a little," I admitted, my thumb tracing slow, lazy circles over the curve of her hip. "I’m completely distracted."
She turned in my arms with fluid grace, swinging one leg over until she was kneeling on the cushions, straddling my lap. Her knees pressed into the couch on either side of my thighs. A small, knowing smile played at the corner of her mouth, her short brunette hair falling in messy, tousled waves around her face, a few strands catching the lamplight like threads of burnished copper. "By what exactly?"
I looked up at her. The face I’d somehow memorized without ever meaning to. The way the lamplight caught in her eyes. The quiet strength beneath the exhaustion of the day. All I could truly think about was the Awakening barreling toward us and how quickly moments like this would become fragile, rare, stolen.
"By the fact that you’re right here," I said softly.
"No it’s not." She tilted her head, studying me with that sharp, gentle gaze that saw too much. "Tell me what’s actually going on."
I exhaled slowly. "Sinn. He doesn’t trust the hierarchy and he wants me to build an inside team."
"You don’t have to worry about that right now," she murmured, shifting her weight on my lap in a way that sent heat curling through me.
Her smile softened into something deeper, warmer, more intimate. She leaned down until our faces were barely an inch apart, her breath warm and sweet against my lips.
"Why are we still on the couch?" she whispered, voice husky.
"Good point," I breathed.
I sat up slowly until our foreheads touched, sharing the same air. "You okay?"
"Perfect," she whispered back, eyes half-lidded. "Just happy to be right here. With you."
I wrapped my hands around her waist, fingers splaying across the small of her back, and closed the distance. Our mouths met in a slow, deliberate kiss—deep and unhurried, tasting of relief, need, and everything we weren’t saying. Her lips were soft and plush, parting for me as the kiss grew heavier. The first time between us had been electric fire. This felt like more.
Her fingers slid into my hair as the kiss deepened, bodies pressing closer. The TV droned on, forgotten. Outside, the city night pressed against the windows, but in here, for this moment, there was only the heat of her skin, the soft sounds she made against my mouth, and the fierce, protective ache in my chest that told me I would burn everything down before I let the coming storm take her.
I pulled back just an inch, my eyes meeting hers in the soft glow of the lamp. "Can I take your shirt off?" I asked, my voice surprisingly gentle.
Sherry nodded, a small, genuine smile lighting her eyes. "Yes, please."
I reached for the hem of her shirt, my fingers grazing the warm, smooth skin of her waist. A visible shiver rippled through her, her stomach tightening under my touch. Slowly, reverently, I lifted the fabric. She raised her arms for me, and I pulled it over her head, letting it fall blindly to the floor.
She sat there on my lap, bare from the waist up, bathed in soft gold light. Shadows and highlights traced every curve—beautiful, open, trusting. My hands settled on her ribs, thumbs brushing just beneath her breasts.
Then she leaned forward, her hands slightly unsteady as she worked on my shirt.
She tugged it over my head. The moment our bare chests met, skin to skin, it hit like a sudden, grounding shockwave—electric, intimate, undeniable. Her softness pressed against my harder frame, her heartbeat thundering against mine.
Everything else vanished. Sinn. The hierarchy. The Awakening barreling toward us. There was only her. Only this.
We moved together in a slow, tangled dance of limbs and need. I slid my arms under her, lifting her easily as I stood. She wrapped her legs tight around my waist, her face buried in the crook of my neck, letting out a soft, breathy laugh that warmed my skin. Her breasts pressed warmly against my chest with every shift.
"The bed," she murmured, lips brushing my collarbone with every word. "Before we end up on this floor."
"I’m working on it," I teased, though my voice had gone rough and low, thick with how badly I wanted her.
I carried her the short distance into the bedroom. The darkness there was broken only by the soft ambient light spilling in from the hallway, painting faint silver across the sheets.
We made it only a few steps before we tumbled onto the mattress together in a soft, breathless landing that brought her right back on top of me. The cool blankets were a sharp, delicious contrast to the growing heat between our bodies.
I looked up at her, my hands framing her face, thumbs gently brushing away the stray strands of brunette hair that clung to her flushed cheeks. There was no rush tonight. We had time.
She leaned down, her lips brushing mine once, twice—slow, devastating kisses full of promise. Her hair fell around us like a dark, silky curtain, tickling my skin.
"No more talking," she whispered, her eyes locking onto mine with fierce, unmistakable hunger. "Just us."
"Just us," I agreed, voice hoarse.
I pulled her down into the dark, hands sliding over the warm, smooth expanse of her back, fingers tracing the delicate dip of her spine, and let the rest of the world burn away.