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That nearly fucking finishes me.

I angle my head and take the kiss deeper, expecting the heat that’s been building between us to finally blow apart.

Instead, she slows me down.

Her grip loosens in my shirt. One hand slides higher, fingertips brushing the side of my neck before settling against my jaw, and something about that gentle touch gets to me.

My mouth softens against hers without me deciding to let it.

One kiss becomes another, slower this time, her lips dragging against mine before coming back. My thumb moves against her waist while her fingers slip into my hair, and whatever’s been humming between us changes with it, losing some of its sharpness until our powers stop straining toward each other and into something quieter.

Fuck! I wasn’t ready for gentle.

Malgrave left a fucking graveyard where my voice used to be. For three days, I’ve reached for something that has always been there and found nothing waiting for me.

But Echo kisses me like nothing is missing.

Like she can hear every fucking thing anyway.

I pull back barely an inch, my forehead dropping against hers while both of us breathe harder than we should be.

Her pale green eyes open. “Still hate me?” she whispers.

My mouth twitches. How the fuck did she know I thought that when she first arrived?

I shake my head.

Then think better of it.

I hold my thumb and forefinger a fraction apart—a little bit.

Echo laughs against my mouth.

And I kiss her again. This one lasts longer. Long enough that the bike behind me gets forgotten, along with the wrench somewhere on the floor and every fucking reason we probably should slow this down. Echo’s arms wind around my neck, and I catch myself before I smear grease through her silver hair, settling for hooking a forearm around her back and pulling her closer. She comes closer, and for a while we don’t need words. There’s only that steady pull between us and the way her mouth keeps finding mine.

Eventually she draws back, her lips swollen, her silver hair tangled around my fingers. “I should probably go to bed.”

My hands loosen around her back.

Yeah. Probably.

Neither of us moves.

Echo glances toward the garage door, then back at me, and a small smile pulls at her mouth. “That generally requires leaving the garage.”

Smart-ass.

I give her back one last squeeze before stepping back, and the loss of her body against mine hits immediately. My hellhound pushes beneath my skin, thoroughly unimpressed with this development.

Join the fucking club.

I grab my cut from where I left it over the back of a chair, shrug into it, and hold out my hand.

Echo looks down at it, then slides her fingers through mine.

That simple touch shouldn’t hit anywhere near as hard as the kiss did.

Somehow, it fucking does.