Jay's POV
The house was silent now, but somehow it felt louder than before.
Maybe it was because everyone else had gone.
Maybe it was because Keifer was still standing right in front of me, looking at me like he had no intention of letting me get away from him anytime soon.
He was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed, that smug little smile on his lips again, and I hated how much it affected me.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" I asked, trying to sound annoyed, but my voice came out softer than I wanted.
His eyes darkened a little. "Like what?"
"Like you want to do something."
He pushed off the wall and walked toward me slowly, deliberately, until I had to tilt my head back to keep eye contact. "Maybe I do."
My heart jumped.
He stopped just inches away, close enough that I could feel the heat coming off him, close enough that the only thing separating us was the air neither of us was willing to break first. His hand slid to my waist, firm and possessive, and I felt my breath catch.
"You know," he murmured, "I don't like the idea of anyone else getting to look at you like this."
I swallowed. "Like what?"
His thumb brushed lightly over my side. "Like you belong with me."
That sent a sharp shiver through me.
I gave him a look, but it was impossible to be serious when he was touching me like that, when his voice had gone low and rough and completely unfair. "You're being dramatic."
He smirked. "You love it."
I opened my mouth to argue, but he bent his head and kissed me before I could say a single word.
It wasn't gentle this time.
It was slow, confident, and full of that dangerous kind of sweetness that made my whole body react to him. His hand tightened at my waist, pulling me closer until there was barely any space left between us. I caught the front of his shirt, holding onto him as he kissed me again and again, each one deeper than the last.
When he finally pulled back, we were both breathing harder.
He looked down at me with that same smug expression, but there was something softer underneath it too, something almost vulnerable. "There," he said quietly. "That's better."
I scoffed, though my cheeks were definitely warm. "Better for who?"
"For me," he said immediately, like the answer was obvious.
I shook my head, trying not to smile, but he saw it anyway. Of course he did.
He stepped in again, brushing his nose against mine. "You're mine," he said softly, possessively, and the words made my stomach flip.
I lifted a brow. "Bold of you."
He smiled against my lips. "Am I wrong?"
I should've teased him. I should've rolled my eyes. I should've acted normal.
Instead, I grabbed his shirt and pulled him into another kiss.
This one made him laugh under his breath, which only made me kiss him harder.
His hands moved to my back, holding me like I was something precious, something he had no intention of letting go. And when he kissed the side of my neck afterward, slow enough to make my knees feel weak, I had to grip him tighter just to stay standing.
"Keifer..." I breathed.
He lifted his head, eyes fixed on mine. "Yeah?"
"You're impossible."
He smiled, completely unbothered. "And you still keep kissing me."
I glared at him, but it was ruined by the way I was smiling.
He leaned in again, lips brushing mine, his voice low and warm. "Good," he whispered. "Because I'm not done with you yet."