Forbidden Ties

Chapter 11: Crossing The Line Again.

Sam's P.O.V.

His lips crashed against mine, and the world around us disappeared. For a moment, there was no chaos, no confusion about how we felt, no disapproving parents—just him. His kiss was urgent, almost desperate, as if he was trying to tell me everything he couldn’t say out loud.

My hands found their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer even as my mind screamed that this was dangerous, reckless, utterly stupid. But my heart didn’t care. It wanted him, needed him, in a way that made no sense but felt inevitable.

The heat between us was intoxicating, but it wasn’t just the fire—it was the tenderness beneath it. The way his hands framed my face like I might break, the hesitation just before his lips met mine again, as if he was giving me the chance to stop this. But I didn’t. I couldn’t.

When we finally broke apart, his forehead rested against mine, our breaths mingling in the quiet between us. My heart thundered against my ribs, a wild rhythm that refused to settle.

"You know this changes everything again, right?" he said, his voice barely above a whisper, a raw edge to his words that made them feel like a promise and a warning all at once.

I nodded, unable to trust myself to speak. Because he was right. Whatever this was—whatever we were—it was about to change our world in ways neither of us could undo. And even as a thousand reasons to step away filled my head, only one thought lingered: I didn’t care.

For a moment, neither of us moved, caught in the fragile stillness that followed something so irreversible. His eyes searched mine, as though he was trying to piece together what came next, and I found myself holding my breath, waiting for him to speak first.

But the silence stretched too long, and the weight of it pressed down on me. "Do you regret it?" I asked softly, barely recognizing my own voice.

His jaw tightened, and for a terrifying second, I thought he might say yes. But then he shook his head, his expression softening in a way that made my chest ache.

"Never," he said, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt. "But you need to know something, Sam."

I swallowed hard, bracing myself for whatever was coming.

"This... you and me..." He exhaled, running a hand through his hair. "It's not going to be easy. Not with everyone watching, waiting for us to screw up again. Not with everything working against us."

His words were a reality check, but they didn’t extinguish the spark still burning between us. If anything, they made it brighter.

"I know," I said, my voice steadier than I expected. "But easy was never the point."

Something flickered in his eyes—pride, maybe, or relief—and before I could second-guess myself, I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his.

"We’ll figure it out," I added, more for myself than for him. "Even if we have to fight for it."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in a half-smile, the kind that made it hard to think straight. "Then I guess we better start fighting."

I didn’t know if it was bravery or recklessness—or maybe just that same magnetic pull that always brought us back together—but I tightened my grip on his hand, silently vowing that no matter what came next, I wasn’t letting go.

He stepped closer, and the tension between us shifted—no longer hesitant, but charged with something undeniable. His free hand rose to cup my jaw, his thumb brushing my cheek in a touch so gentle it sent shivers racing down my spine.

"Sam," he murmured, his voice low, the sound curling around my name like a promise. "Tell me to stop if this is too much."

I didn’t. I couldn’t.

Instead, I leaned into him, the heat of his body overwhelming, grounding, and electrifying all at once. When his lips found mine again, there was nothing desperate or rushed this time—just deliberate intensity, a slow burn that melted everything else away.

His fingers tangled in my hair, tilting my head back to deepen the kiss, and I felt his other hand settle on the small of my back, pulling me closer until there wasn’t an inch of space left between us. My own hands found his chest, the solid weight of him under my fingertips both comforting and maddening, as if he were the only real thing in a world that had otherwise tilted off its axis.

Every rational thought I had screamed that this was dangerous, that we were on a knife’s edge, but I didn’t care. His touch, his kiss—it was everything I shouldn’t want but couldn’t resist.

"Sam," he said again, this time against my lips, his breath warm and uneven. His forehead rested against mine as he tried to catch his breath, his hands still holding me like I might disappear if he let go.

"You’re going to ruin me," he whispered, his voice hoarse but filled with something I couldn’t quite name.

"Good," I whispered back, my voice trembling but firm. "Because you’ve already ruined me."

The words hung between us, heavier than the silence, and yet they felt right. Honest.

For a second, I thought he might pull away, that the weight of everything unsaid between us might snap the fragile connection we’d just rebuilt. But instead, his lips found mine again, more insistent this time, as if he’d made his decision.

And so had I. The line was crossed and nothing could be done about it now.

His lips moved to my jaw, trailing a line of heat down my neck, and I gasped, my fingers tightening against his chest. He felt so solid beneath my touch, every part of him anchoring me even as my head spun.

"Jax," I whispered, barely able to get the word out as his lips brushed a spot just below my ear that made my knees feel like they might give out.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching mine, dark and full of something that felt like a storm waiting to break. "Say the word, Sam," he murmured, his voice rough but steady. "Tell me to stop."

I didn’t. Instead, I reached up, pulling him back to me, and that was all the answer he needed.

He backed us toward the bed, his hands never leaving me, and when the backs of my knees hit the edge, I tumbled backward, taking him with me. His weight settled over me, and for a moment, all I could feel was him—his warmth, his strength, the way his breath hitched as I ran my fingers through his hair.

The world beyond these four walls ceased to exist. We were the only thing that mattered.

Jax paused, his forehead resting against mine as he caught his breath. His hands which had been so sure moments ago, now rested lightly on my hips, his thumbs brushing my skin in a way that sent sparks skittering through me.

"Are you sure?" He asked, his voice barely audible, but his eyes were locked on mine, steady and waiting.

I didn't hesitate. I reached up, my fingers brushing his cheek, and nodded. "Yes."

His lips crashed into mine again, this time with a fire that left no room for doubt. Whatever was coming, whatever fallout awaited us, we'd face it together. For now, we had this.

My body felt like it was on fire the moment his lips met mine again, this time with a deeper urgency.

The air between us thickened with heat, desire, and the weight of everything unspoken.

Jax’s hands skimmed over my skin, sending jolts of electricity through me. When his lips left mine, trailing a path of soft kisses down my neck, I couldn’t contain the shiver that ran through me. His touch was possessive, but tender, as though he was savoring each moment. I let myself get lost in him, in the way he made me forget the consequences, forget everything but the intensity between us.

We fell back onto the bed in a tangle of limbs, and for a moment, he pulled away, his eyes searching mine for any hint of hesitation. I saw the vulnerability there—he was just as uncertain, just as afraid—but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I wanted him. Wanted this.

“I really care about you,” he whispered, his voice rough, as if the words were more of a plea than a declaration of affection.

Without saying a word, I kissed him again, deeper this time, letting him know with every movement that I wasn't backing out.

As we came together, there was a brief moment where time seemed to stand still, the rest of the world fading to nothing. It was just us, lost in the moment, lost in each other.

I felt like I was exactly where I was meant to be. Stepbrother's arms or not, everything felt perfect.

We collapsed into each other, our bodies tangled in the aftermath, the weight of what had just happened settling between us like a promise. As exhaustion took over, we drifted into a deep sleep.

But just as the silence of the night wrapped around us, a sharp knock on the door jolted us awake.

My heart skipped a beat.

We both froze, a mix of panic and disbelief flooding through me.

Whoever it was, whatever they wanted—it wasn’t good.