Savior Complex: A Small Town Love Triangle Romance

“Then kiss me,” she says. It’s all I need before my mouth claims her, my fingers twisted with hers as I hold them to her back. And holy fuck, her taste is so sweet. Like the most fragrant flower and the most decadent dessert, all whipped cream and honey and lavender in one. My tongue dances over hers, every part of me hungry for her.

I open my eyes, just to see if she’s real, but I’m distracted by Jake just across the bar, looking directly at us. For a moment, I’m sobered into realizing what I’m doing. Looking around, it doesn’t seem like anyone’s noticed, and when I look back, Jake’s gone.

“Let’s get out of here,” I say, taking her hand and pulling her from the room. She doesn’t argue, only clutches my hand tightly as we head for the elevators.

Once inside, we stand next to each other untouching. But once those doors close, I’m on her, my hands in her hair as she meets my mouth with the same urgency. I pray to God no one needs to use the elevator, and will it to hurry the fuck up. The doors open, and we’re half falling, half laughing, our mouths still connected as we make our way to the room. I’ve never felt more alive or more drunk in my life, and fuck it feels like I’m walking on air.

We enter the room and I face her again. This time, the silence is jarring. It’s just our breathing as we take each other in. She’s wobbling. Or is it my vision? I’m hit with the realization that we’re way too drunk right now, and just how far we’ve crossed the line we’ve been toeing since the day we met.

I want her. I want her in every way imaginable. But it’s not just my life that will be affected if we go through with this—it’s hers, and it’s most definitely Jordy’s.

“We don’t have to—”

“Shut up, Winters, and undress me,” she slurs, her voice unsteady as a ship at sea. Her eyes dare me to move closer. Beg me. And when she lifts her arms above her head, I close the space between us. We stumble, but I recover, pulling both of us to standing. Then I clutch her shirt, pulling it over her head, taking a deep inhale when I see the lacy purple bra that matches her hair, and her soft ivory skin that needs my hands all over it. I want to devour her, but I also want to savor every moment.

So I take it slow, cupping her face and stroking her cheek as I taste her lips, her neck, her chest. I slide one strap of her bra over her shoulder, watching with fascination as a trail of goosebumps appear behind my lingering finger. My breath feels shallow when her tiny rosebud nipple emerges over the fabric, and I duck my head to capture it with my tongue and lips. She shudders against me, her hands gripping my shoulders, a tiny gasp escaping her mouth as my teeth graze the tender flesh.

Fuck. What am I doing? I pull back, and she loses her balance without me there to support her.

“Please,” she begs, opening her eyes. Those fucking eyes, so blue I could swim in them. Bloodshot from her stupor. Hooded as she paws at me. I take another step back, just out of reach.

“I can’t,” I say, then shake my head. “I mean, we can’t. You’re drunk. I’m drunk. We’re going to wake up tomorrow and realize what we’ve done.”

She steps closer, her breast still exposed as she presses herself to me. My cock is so fucking hard I’m seeing double. Or maybe that’s the tequila.

“Brayden,” she murmurs, her hand making lazy circles on my chest, “I won’t regret this, I promise.”

I look at her, so captivated by her. I could take her right now. I could kiss every fucking inch of her, taste the honey of her essence. I could bury myself in her and remain there all night.

I capture her hands, and she lifts her sweet face to mine.

“I can’t,” I repeat. She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, and steps back. As she adjusts her bra, I feel the air in the room grow thick. I may have ruined everything, and it’s not even my relationship with Jordy I’m concerned about. All I can think about is this beautiful girl in front of me, and how I’d give anything to be tangled up inside her. She’s the perfect storm, and I’m just a vessel on her waves. I’m ready to drown in her.

“Brayden, I want this,” she says softly, even as she puts her shirt back on. “I want you. I’ll wait, but this is happening.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I do know,” she insists. “And tomorrow morning, when we’re sober, I will still want you.”

I close my eyes, the room wavering as I rub my forehead. There are so many thoughts in my head right now. How carnal my need is for this woman in front of me. How I could give a shit about the consequences. How my whole entire life has been about taking care of everyone else, but being here with Nina, I’m finally free—and yet, my hands are tied.

Nina steps toward me. She takes my hands, presses them to her chest. To her heart.

“Come on,” she says, pulling slightly. “Let’s sleep this off.” She turns to the bed, and I let my hand slip from hers.

“My bed is over there,” I rasp, my voice hoarse from the tequila, or from the sheer effort to not cross any more lines.

“You and I both know you’re not sleeping there,” she says, flipping back the covers, then turning to me. “I’ll stay on my side, and you can stay on yours. But that couch is about a foot too small for you, and this bed is big enough to sleep sideways. So get undressed and get your ass in bed.”

I hesitate for a moment. I know I should stand my ground, especially when she slips off her shirt and pants in front of me, trading her clothes for an oversized t-shirt. Sexiest lingerie I’ve ever seen.

This is the worst idea, and yet, I strip off my clothes. I usually sleep naked, but for her I keep my boxer briefs on. I feel her eyes on me as I slip under the covers, then feel the weight of her body settle next to me.

“There’s a line, Winters,” she says huskily. I turn my body, our heads resting on our own pillows as we face each other. She traces a line between us with one painted pink fingernail, and I’m a goner for that evil glint in her eyes. “Cross it, and your ass is grass.”

Chapter Nineteen

Nina