Fire and pride

Jeremy stepped closer, his presence a calm storm brimming with unspoken intensity that made Sophia's pulse skip. The warmth of his touch ghosted over her skin before settling gently under her chin, tilting her face upward. Their eyes locked his dark-blue gaze, as deep as a midnight ocean, drew her in like an irresistible tide. It was reckless, the way he looked at her, as if she were something so precious he could never bear to lose her.

"You look even more captivating when you're angry," he murmured, his voice a husky caress that seemed to bridge the fragile gap between them. His thumb traced the delicate curve of her lips, the very lips he ached to kiss again.

Sophia's breath hitched, her heartbeat drumming like distant war signals. Heat crept up her neck, betraying the blush that colored her cheeks, yet she fought against the pull of his charm. Jeremy's smile deepened into mischievous warmth as he shifted the conversation with an effortless tease, as if he could hear the frantic rhythm of her pulse and knew exactly how much she struggled to resist him.

"You dressed up for me, didn't you?" he teased softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with lingering fingers that sent a shiver down her spine.

Sophia's scowl deepened. With a frustrated push, she tried to break free of her firm gesture but not as forcefully as she intended. Over her shoulder, she tossed him an indignant glare. "I did not dress up because of you," she snapped, her voice laced with defiant sharpness, though beneath the veneer of anger lay vulnerability.

She strode away toward the kitchen's main exit, her steps quick and purposeful, as if distancing herself might cool the fire he so easily ignited within her.

Jeremy chuckled a low, rich sound that curled around her like silk. "Oh? Then why do you look so breathtaking?" His voice followed her, teasing and challenging in equal measure.

That little shove? Weak.

That glare? Hollow.

Sophia was still mad, still clinging to her pride, but not nearly as furious as she wanted him to believe. He knew her too well: the sharp edges, the stubbornness, the way her emotions warred beneath the surface.

Very amusing. But I have my ways.

She was only a few steps from the exit when strong arms caught her from behind, pulling her back against a familiar, unyielding chest.

Warmth. Strength.

And that scent is clean, crisp, undeniably his. The one she hated to admit she liked.

Her breath hitched.

"Jeremy," she managed, her voice barely above a whisper.

He grinned slowly, deliberately, the kind of smirk that sent warning bells ringing in her mind. His arms tightened around her waist, effortlessly holding her against him.

She stiffened, willing herself to push him away, but he wasn't fooled. He felt the slight falter in her stance, the way her body betrayed her just as much as her racing heart did.

Oh, Sophia. You're never going to admit the truth on your own, are you?

His lips brushed against the shell of her ear, his voice dropping into something softer, something dangerous.

"Still angry, Snugglebug?"

A shiver raced down her spine, her body betraying her before she could even think of a response.

What on earth does he think he's doing?!

No. The real question was why wasn't she stopping him?

Jeremy leaned in, his breath warm, teasing, as it fanned against her skin. One hand trailed upward, fingers slipping into the silky strands of her hair, brushing them aside to expose the delicate curve of her neck.

Then, without warning his lips found her skin.

Soft. Lingering.

Each kiss was slow, deliberate, like embers igniting a slow-burning fire beneath her flesh. Every press of his lips sent heat spiraling through her veins, his touch calculated, coaxing, relentless in unraveling her defenses.

Sophia sucked in a sharp breath, her entire body tensing.

She had to stop this. Had to push him away.

But Jeremy didn't miss the way she curled slightly, as if grasping onto the last frayed threads of her resolve.

Amusement flickered in his gaze.

What is he doing?! We're not done with our conversation, and now he's doing this?!

She squeezed her eyes shut, inhaling deeply, willing herself to stay in control. But it was a losing battle. The heat of his mouth against her skin, the slow drag of his lips, it was overwhelming. Dizzying.

Her heart pounded wildly, a storm of sensations crashing into her, intoxicating and consuming.

This isn't fair.

He knew exactly what he was doing. Building up emotions within her, setting her on fire without even trying.

She clenched her fists at her sides, trying desperately to hold onto her anger, but it was slipping. Fading. Being replaced by something far more dangerous.

Jeremy smirked against her neck, his lips ghosting over her pulse. He could feel the exact moment she faltered.

Got you.

But he wasn't done.

His fingers tightened around her waist, pressing her back against him just enough for her to feel the tension in his stance, the quiet intensity of the moment. His lips hovered over her ear, his voice a husky whisper.

"You always run, Sophia," he murmured. "But tell me… why haven't you pulled away yet?"

Her breath stilled.

The worst part?

She had no answer.

Not one she was willing to admit.

And Jeremy knew it.

"Ugh… fine," she exhaled shakily, the words slipping from her lips like a reluctant confession. "I hate to admit it, but you win, Prince Frost."

Jeremy stilled at her surrender, then pulled back just enough to catch her gaze. His smirk deepened, satisfaction gleaming in his midnight-blue eyes.

That's my girl.

The way he said it, low and possessive, sent another wave of heat crashing through her senses.

Sophia huffed, tilting her face away slightly. "I dressed up because of you…" she admitted, voice softer now, something shy threading through her words. "Not only that, but because it's our fifth anniversary today." She hesitated for a second before continuing, "I wanted to look my best… after the family gathering."