For a fleeting moment, Gaffer had believed the world had fallen silent.
When his lips brushed against Linda's, the entire storm inside him seemed to pause, as though something fragile had taken hold of time itself.
The contact was gentle at first—hesitant even.
Linda's breath faltered the instant their lips met, and he sensed the uncertainty running through her like a trembling thread. It was subtle, but it was there.
It was there in the stiffness in her shoulders. The faint hesitation was there in the way her fingers hovered near him, unsure whether to pull away or remain. But she did not stop him.
And somehow that small permission was enough to ignite the fire inside Gaffer.
Linda's lips were warm and impossibly soft.
When she parted them slightly, allowing him to pry it open and allow his tongue to slip inside her mouth, the sensation surged through him like lightning connecting with iron, sparking and shocking everything around it.
