“It’s not wrong,” he said. “Unless it feels that way.”

I shook my head. “Everything I do with you…it feels beyond right.”

A small smile shaped his lips.

“Dean?” I asked, my voice soft as I smoothed my hand over his chest.

“Pixie?”

“Kiss me?” My heart filled my throat, damn near blocked the words, but within two blinks, Dean had stolen the little breath I’d managed.

His lips on mine. A sweet, long, and gentle kiss. Hot enough to make my eyes flutter shut and my body arch into his.

“I want this, Amber. I want you,” he said against my lips, barely breaking our kiss. “I just don’t want to cross any lines. I don’t want you regretting a thing with me.”

“Not possible,” I said, gasping for breath as he kissed it from me. I jumped—knowing he’d catch me—and hooked my legs around his hips. He groaned, sinking onto the bed, my knees on either side of him while our lips never broke.

Warm, electric tingles buzzed underneath my skin, humming everywhere he touched. His hands were gentle as they slid up my back, in my hair, and down again, holding me to him like he couldn’t get close enough.

Everything in my heart screamed more.

Everything in my gut told me it was right.

Months of connecting with others through the blog, of taking action with communication, and laying myself bare just now…I’d somehow managed to let go of my past.

I’d become the girl I’d always loved being again.

And now I was confidently, hopelessly lost in Dean’s kiss.

Dean—my confidant, my challenger, my friend.

He made me feel like his while still being solely me.

That was enough to shatter the walls I’d built around my heart, and in the span of a few beats, it belonged to him.

Slowly, I pulled my lips from his and reached across the bed to turn off the lamp on the side table. Heart hammering against my chest, I returned to the bed, lying on my side to face him. I traced the line of his jaw with my fingers, trailing them over his neck and down his chest, until I found the hem. Trembling slightly, I explored the taut skin underneath, sparks of heat traveling in my blood as he gripped my hip and pulled me closer. I hitched my leg over his hip, our bodies aligned as I found his lips again.

God, he tasted good. Felt good. The warmth from him enveloping me…his scent, the way he kissed me like my mouth was something to be savored.

“Dean,” I said, sighing against his lips.

He pulled back an inch, his hand stilling on my hip, his other occupied with propping his head up to look down at me. “Too far?” he asked, genuine concern in his eyes.