Dane

Dane's breath came out in a rush. Lila's fingers in his hair made him shiver, goosebumps chasing themselves down his neck and arms.

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He was kneading her thighs, he realized. A tiny, slow swirl of desire finally spinning together right at his core, between his dick and his heart. She was trying to wake him up and, fuck, he prayed she'd keep doing it.

She was so soft. So warm. There was so much love in her eyes.

Suddenly desperate for her, he slid both hands up her sides, to meet in her hair, and pulled her to him, kissing her—not with the wildness he usually gave in to when she was this close. Instead, he clung to her, pulled her hard against his chest, and kissed his love to her. His fear. His utter terror at the thought of losing her. Because she'd been right. He was starting to feel again. And it was fucking terrifying.

Her breath came faster, but her hands remained gentle on his face, in his hair. Then she slid them down to lace her fingers behind his neck as he sat up straight, pulling down on her to bring their hips together.

Her mouth opened and her breath stopped. Then she swallowed. "Don't let him steal this from us," she whispered against his lips, then kissed him, long and slow.

Dane screwed his eyes closed to fight the wave of grief that suddenly gripped him. His hands shook as he trailed them down her back, then down her thighs, to the places where the dress had fallen apart leaving her skin bare under his hands. So soft. So warm.

As they kissed, he let his fingertips trail along her thighs twice, then slid his hands under the skirt and up to her bottom, kneading it and pulling her in even tighter.

She dropped her head back for a breath.

"I l-love you," he stammered. "God, I'm so terrified he's going to take you from me, Lila."

"Shhhhhhhhh…" She slowed the kiss, stroked his hair, though she rode him slowly and gasped when he pulled her in. "We're safe right now, Dane. We're here together. And he can't find us here. We don't have to hide anymore." She tipped her head to deepen the kiss, and he groaned again as she rocked her hips in his lap.

Unable to resist, he slid his hands further around, further down, then moaned when he discovered she'd been true to her delicious taunt the other day—she wasn't wearing underwear.

"Fuck, Lila." He dipped his long fingers into her softest places and she let her head drop back again with a sigh. He dropped his head to drag his teeth along the line of her throat, nipping, then kissing to soothe the skin. "So beautiful. So hot," he murmured.

Her phone dinged somewhere in her clutch. The notification for a text. But she ignored it.

She made a noise in her throat and clung to his head to keep him against her. "Please, Dane… don't stop…" she whispered. "I told you, I wanted you to lose control. I want to be with you, Dane."

"You are. You have me," he rasped against her neck, then brought one hand up to cup her head, turn her so he could deepen the kiss until she was gasping.

"I don't want to wait anymore. I want you in every way," she said breathlessly. "I can't stand all this—" Dane's phone buzzed on the couch next to her leg. Without breaking the kiss, she leaned down to pick it up and threw it to the other end of the couch. "Ignore it."

He kept his hands on her, but dropped his head against her collarbone to break the kiss. "It might be—"

"Dane, look at me."

He looked up.

Lila smiled. "If this is our last night together, if something terrible is going to happen, I don't want to spend it on our phones."

They stared at each other for a few seconds, their breaths mingling. He was torn. He was desperate to be with her—in her—but he couldn't shake the fear that if he didn't know exactly what was happening, if he wasn't informed, the others might miss something that could be the difference between life and death. For her.

He opened his mouth, but the phone lit up, jangling with the Code Yellow alarm Chris had installed on all their phones, at the same moment Lila's came to life, dinging several times, and ringing with a call.

Both their faces fell. For a few seconds, the just clung to each other, not moving. But they knew. Dane knew. And could see that she did too. She wrapped her arms around his neck for one last, long, slow kiss. He moaned and gripped her, grinding once in a way that had them both sucking in hard. Then they broke apart, and she crawled off him to pick up her phone at the same time Dane leaned across and grabbed his.

Chris was calling. Fuck. He hoped Tish wasn't dying or something. That's just what this night needed.

"Hello?" Lila said into her phone, her voice rough. She'd turned her back to him, her spine a beautiful valley that ran the length of that incredible dress. He stroked one finger down it and she shivered.

"What is it?" Dane snapped as he brought the phone to his ear.

"What the fuck were you thinking, Dane?" Chris bellowed at the other end. "There's a photo on Portrait.com. Of you and Lila—having sex at the fucking museum? What?! How?! When did this—" Chris dissolved into growled curses. "You should have told me, Dane. We aren't prepared for this. You should have told me! Do you have any clue what he's going to do now? It's a public site, Dane. Public. It's already got over a thousand hits. It's going to go viral. He has to know already. You fucking imbecile!"

He looked at Lila who was already staring at him, her face pale.

Something inside him died.

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