Making out

Samira slammed the door behind her, her heart pounding in her chest. She leaned against it for a moment, trying to calm her racing thoughts. The tension between her and Ray had reached a boiling point, and she had thought—hoped—that by retreating to her room, she could finally put some distance between them.

But she was wrong.

Just as she exhaled a breath of relief, she heard the unmistakable click of the door handle turning. Her eyes widened, and before she could react, Ray strode into the room, his expression set with a mixture of determination and amusement. He was not the kind of man to let anything slip through his fingers, least of all her.

Samira took a step back, her pulse quickening. "Ray, what are you doing? Get out," she demanded, her voice wavering between command and plea.

But Ray wasn’t deterred. He closed the door behind him with a soft thud, his eyes never leaving hers. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air thick with anticipation. He was close, too close, and every fiber of her being told her to flee, but something else—something deep and unbidden—rooted her to the spot.

"Get out?" Ray echoed, his lips curling into a lopsided grin. "Now, why would I do that, Samira? I’m just getting started."

Samira’s breath caught in her throat as he advanced on her, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. She backed up until she felt the edge of the bed against the back of her knees. Her mind raced, searching for a way to maintain control of the situation, but Ray was already one step ahead of her.

"Ray" she began, using his first name in a futile attempt to create some semblance of familiarity, to remind him that they weren’t supposed to be at each other’s throats. "This isn’t funny."

"Oh, I’m not laughing," he replied smoothly, his voice dropping an octave as he closed the final gap between them.

With a swift movement, Ray’s arms shot out, encircling her waist and pulling her flush against him. The sudden contact sent a jolt of electricity through her body, and she gasped, her hands instinctively coming up to push him away. But her palms landed on his chest, and she felt the hard planes of muscle beneath his shirt, the steady beat of his heart against her fingertips.

"Let go of me," Samira hissed, though the demand lacked the force she intended. There was a quiver in her voice, a tremor of something that wasn’t entirely anger.

But Ray just chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. "I don’t think you really want that, Samira, did you think I meant everything I said back in the living?" His voice was a murmur, his breath warm against her ear.

Samira tried to pull away, but Ray’s grip only tightened, and instead of letting her go, he leaned down, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of her neck. The touch was feather-light, barely there, but it was enough to send a shiver of desire coursing through her.

"Stop," she whispered, though her body betrayed her words, tilting her head slightly to give him better access. "Ray…"

"You’re too used to running and lying, Samira," he whispered against her skin, his lips moving lower, tracing a line from her jaw to her collarbone. "But you can’t run from this."

Samira’s breath hitched, her hands still pressed against his chest, but now, instead of pushing him away, her fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt. She hated the way her body responded to him, the way her heart raced not with fear but with something far more dangerous.

Ray sensed her hesitation, the crack in her defenses, and he capitalized on it, tilting her chin up so that she was forced to meet his gaze. His eyes were dark, smoldering with an intensity that left her breathless. "Tell me to stop little imposter, and I will," he murmured, his voice low and husky.

But Samira couldn’t form the words. She couldn’t deny the pull between them, the way his presence ignited something deep inside her, something primal and fierce. Her silence was all the answer Ray needed.

With a growl of satisfaction, he closed the distance between them, capturing her lips in a searing kiss. This time unlike in the church, there was nothing tentative or teasing about it—it was a kiss that demanded everything from her, and she found herself unable, unwilling, to resist.

Samira’s world narrowed to the point of contact, to the heat of his mouth against hers, the way his hands moved from her waist to her back, pulling her impossibly closer. She could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat through the layers of clothing, could taste the faint bitterness of the whiskey he’d had earlier, and it only made her head spin more.

Her fingers moved of their own accord, slipping under the edge of his shirt, feeling the heat of his skin beneath. Ray’s breath hitched at her touch, and he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping past her lips in a way that made her knees weak. She clung to him, her hands sliding up his back, feeling the tension in his muscles, the barely restrained power in his frame.

Ray broke the kiss, but only to move his lips lower, trailing a line of fire down her throat, across her collarbone. Samira tilted her head back, her breath coming in shallow gasps as he nipped at her skin, each touch sending another jolt of pleasure through her. His hands were everywhere, one tangled in her hair, the other slipping under the hem of her blouse to caress the smooth skin of her stomach.

"Ray…" she breathed, her voice trembling with a mixture of desire and uncertainty.

He pulled back just enough to look at her, his eyes dark with need but softened with something she couldn’t quite name. "You have no idea how I wish this was real," he murmured, his thumb brushing against her lower lip, as if memorizing its shape.

Samira’s heart skipped a beat at the raw honesty in his voice. But before she could respond, he kissed her again, and this time, there was no room for thought, only the fire that burned between them. She responded in kind, her fingers finding the buttons of his shirt and slipping them free, one by one.

Ray groaned against her lips, and suddenly, his hands were at her waist, lifting her effortlessly and laying her back on the bed. The mattress dipped under their combined weight, and Samira barely had time to catch her breath before he was on top of her, his body pressed against hers in a way that left no doubt about the direction this was headed.

But even in the heat of the moment, Ray couldn’t resist adding a teasing edge. As he leaned down to kiss her again, he paused, his lips hovering just above hers, close enough that she could feel the warmth of his breath. "You know, Samira," he said with a wicked grin, "you’re really terrible at getting rid of me."

Samira couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled up at his words, her irritation at his earlier arrogance momentarily forgotten. "Shut up, Ray," she retorted, her voice breathless but filled with humor.

"Make me," he challenged, his grin widening.

She didn’t need to be told twice. With a playful growl, she grabbed the collar of his shirt and pulled him down, capturing his lips in a kiss that was both fierce and hungry, her laughter melting into a moan as his hands roamed over her body.

Their mouths moved together in a desperate rhythm, the intensity of the moment swallowing them whole. Ray’s hands found the buttons of her blouse, and he made quick work of them, his fingers deft and sure. Samira arched into his touch, her body a live wire of sensation, every nerve ending tuned to his movements.

When he finally peeled the fabric away, revealing the soft skin beneath, Ray paused, his breath hitching as he took in the sight of her. "You’re beautiful," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. The way he said it, with such reverence, made her heart skip a beat.

Samira felt a flush of heat rise to her cheeks, but before she could respond, Ray’s lips were on her again, kissing a trail down her throat, across her collarbone, and lower still. Every touch, every caress, sent a fresh wave of heat through her, leaving her gasping for air, her fingers digging into his shoulders.

She had never felt anything like this before—this overwhelming need, this desperate longing that seemed to consume her from the inside out. And as Ray’s hands continued their exploration, her mind spun, lost in a haze of pleasure and anticipation.

But just as the tension reached its peak, just as Samira thought she might shatter from the intensity of it all, Ray pulled back, his breathing ragged, his eyes dark with something she couldn’t quite place.

"Wait," he said, his voice hoarse.

Samira blinked, her body protesting the sudden loss of contact. "What?" she asked, her voice a breathless whisper.

Ray’s gaze darkened, and for a moment, the cocky, self-assured mask slipped, revealing a vulnerability that took her by surprise. He swallowed hard, as if struggling to find the right words. "I just… I hoped this to be real, Samira, unfortunately it's not."