"Some lines aren't crossed, they're stumbled over, lips first."
I always thought temptation came with a warning label.
But nothing about Lucas Callahan said danger.
Not at first.
He was Daniel's brother, the wild one, the charming one, the one who vanished overseas for four years and reappeared like a slow-burning storm.
Where Daniel was composed and strategic, Lucas was magnetic.
And suddenly, all my carefully built walls felt thin as paper.
It started at our tenth anniversary party.
The room glittered with champagne and chandeliers, but Daniel was nowhere to be seen off taking yet another business call. Typical. I stood alone, nursing a half-warm drink, in a dress I wore more for him than for me.
"You're too beautiful to be ignored like this," came a voice behind me.
I turned and there he was.
Lucas, in a navy suit that looked casually sinful on him, two buttons undone, tie loose like he had somewhere better to be.
"Where's your brother?" I asked, trying for light.
He shrugged. "Missing out."
Then he plucked the glass from my hand, sipped it, and held my gaze with eyes that said I see more than I should.
The air shifted.
A slow, creeping heat bloomed between us.
I should've stepped away.
I didn't.
Later that night, on the villa balcony, I found him again.
The moon lit his face in silver as he leaned against the stone railing, whiskey in hand. I joined him, the air thick with unspoken things.
"You always looked at me like I was trouble," he said, voice low, almost amused.
"You were," I murmured. "You still are."
He took a step closer, so close I could feel the warmth of him. "And yet, here you are."
His hand brushed my waist lightly, like a question.
I didn't pull away.
"You know," he said, gaze fixed on my lips, "when I left, I promised myself I'd never come back unless I could have exactly what I wanted."
"And now?"
He leaned in, breath brushing my cheek. "Now I know what that is."
His lips hovered barely touching until I closed the space myself.
The kiss was slow at first.
Hot. Measured. Like we were tasting the idea of it.
Then it ignited.
He pulled me closer, one hand cupping the back of my neck, the other splaying across my lower back. My fingers curled into his shirt, tugging. I felt his breath catch as his lips deepened the kiss, claiming, hungry.
The night air pressed around us, warm and electric. The wind moved through my dress, his hands tracing places no one had touched in a long time not with reverence. Not with need.
My body arched into his like it had a mind of its own. Every nerve lit. Every breath stolen.
But we didn't go further.
We couldn't.
We shouldn't.
So we stood there in the dark, pressed against one another like we belonged heaving, shaking, almost lost.
When I pulled back, my lips were swollen, heart racing, soul tangled.
"I can't," I whispered.
Lucas looked at me with fire in his eyes and something softer beneath. "You already did."
Inside, Daniel was asleep on the couch, his phone buzzing beside him.
And on the stairs, Lucas stood in shadow, watching me walk past.
No goodbye.
No apology.
Just a look that said:
Next time, you won't stop me.