Sage stood at the stove, preparing breakfast, trying to focus on the task in front of her. But her movements felt slow. Something inside her felt unsettled, and she knew exactly what—or rather, who—it was.
Ever since she stopped being uptight towards Jaxon, they were becoming very close, from the grocery shopping to watching movie together and her sleeping on his shoulder, she could remember it even though she woke up on her bed.
He was now standing behind her, leaning against the kitchen counter.
He didn't say anything, just watched.
She hated how aware she was of him—how she could sense every time he shifted his weight or scratched his jaw.
God, when had it gotten like this?
"Need help?" he asked casually, but his tone carried something extra.
"No," she replied too quickly, flipping a piece of bacon harder than necessary. A little grease popped, sizzling on her arm. She winced.
"Careful," he said, and then he was closer.
Before she could stop him, Jaxon reached for the cupboard above her, his arm brushing lightly across her shoulder.
He was just getting a glass.
But her heart was pounding like it had been dropped into a war zone.
She shifted to the side, trying to keep a safe distance, but there wasn't much room to move. His hand grazed hers as she reached for the salt, and for a second, neither of them moved.
Her fingers stilled under his.
Their eyes met and everything stilled.
"Sorry," Jaxon murmured, his voice lower now, barely above a whisper.
His eyes dropped to her lips, her breath caught in her throat.
This was not supposed to happen.
But her body betrayed her, without thinking her lips brushed against his, it was a brief kiss but it had happeed.
They both pulled back slightly their eyes wide, startled by their own impulsiveness.
"I didn't—" Jaxon began, but she didn't let him finish.
Because she didn't know what came over her, but suddenly Sage grabbed the front of his shirt.
And kissed him hard.
His response was instant. His hands flew to her waist, pulling her in, crashing their bodies together in a way that made her gasp. There was no more hesitation, no more tiptoeing around whatever had been simmering beneath the surface.
It ignited and exploded.
His mouth was warm and he kissed like he meant it. Like he'd thought about it and even dreamed about it.
Her back hit the counter as he leaned into her, deepening the kiss, and Sage let out a soft, surprised moan. Her fingers tangled in his shirt, then slid up to his shoulders. He was solid—God, so solid—and he tasted like mint.
Her knees nearly buckled, but his grip on her waist steadied her. He angled his head slightly, and the kiss changed becoming slower and more controlled. He teased her bottom lip with his teeth, then kissed her deeper.
Sage had never kissed anyone like this and Never felt this consumed.
Jaxon pulled back just slightly, his forehead resting against hers, their breaths ragged and heavy.
But the look in his eyes—dark, blown wide with something primal—snapped whatever restraint was left in her.
She kissed him again.
His hands moved up her back, down her sides. Every touch was electric and he made her feel like she was the only thing in the room—like the world had narrowed down to just them.
They stumbled back a few steps, bumping into the table. Sage broke the kiss with a breathless gasp her eyes locked on his.
"You're…" she couldn't finish the sentence.
He didn't let her.
His lips found her neck, dragging lightly along her skin. She let her head tilt back, gripping the edge of the table behind her as his mouth moved lower, then back up to her lips again.
The intensity of it all overwhelmed her.
She couldn't believe how good he was at this. How easily he could make her forget her name.
Sage found herself pressed between the table and his body, his hands braced on either side of her. She ran her fingers through his hair, tugging lightly, and the groan he let out made her stomach twist in the best way.
When their mouths parted again, barely inches separating them, their chests rose and fell in unison.
The air was thick.
Jaxon looked down at her, his expression unreadable. But there was no denying the fire in his eyes.
"I didn't mean to…" he started again.
"Don't," Sage whispered, cutting him off.
Because she didn't regret it. Not one second.
And the way he looked at her—hungry and desperate, like he was already thinking about kissing her again—told her he didn't either.
The smell of burned bacon filled the air.
Still, they didn't move.
She reached up and brushed her fingers along his jaw. He turned into the touch like he needed it.
"I didn't think you'd be…" she trailed off, trying to breathe, trying to make sense of it.
"A good kisser?" he asked, one corner of his mouth twitching into a crooked, cocky smile.
Her cheeks flushed. "I didn't say that."
"But you're thinking it."
"I might be."
He leaned in again, close enough to kiss her, but he didn't. He waited for the tension to hang between them.
And that made her want him more.
She stood on her toes, closing the space herself, and kissed him again.
Their lips moved in perfect sync their bodies pressed together.
The make out session that followed blurred the world around them.
Nothing else existed.
His hands roamed with confidence, not pushing too far, but claiming her in every way he could. Her breath hitched every time he shifted angles or let out a low groan against her mouth.
She lost count of how many times they pulled away just to dive back in again, even more desperate than before.
At some point, Jaxon lifted her onto the counter without warning. Her legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, and the sudden contact made both of them pause for a split second.
The realization made her pulse race.
He brushed a strand of hair from her face.
"We should probably…" she gestured to the stove, where smoke was still curling into the air.
Jaxon glanced over his shoulder, saw the ruined bacon, and laughed softly. "Yeah."
He didn't move right away. His hands were still on her thighs, his body still between her legs.
"You okay?" he asked quietly.
She nodded, biting her lower lip. "Yeah. Just didn't see that coming."
"Me neither."
And yet, neither of them seemed to regret it.
He stepped back, reluctantly, giving her space. She slid off the counter, her legs a little shaky.