My climax builds slow and hot, a simmering fire growing with every thrust, every stroke of his fingers, every sound he makes against my skin.
“Come for me,Sunshine,” he whispers. “Let go. I’ve got you.”
And I do.
I cry out, trembling around him. He follows with a deep groan, burying himself to the hilt, holding me tight as he spills inside me.
When we finally settle, our bodies tangled and breathless, he kisses my forehead.
“You wreck me,” he murmurs.
“Right back at you.”
He pulls me close, and I curl into his chest.
I never thought I’d feel this.Wanted.Safe.Loved.
But I do now.
Withhim.
Chapter 7
Caleb
Nya’shandisstillin mine as we make our way down the stairs from her apartment. I’m not letting go anytime soon. Her palm is small, warm, soft. Like every damn thing I never knew I needed until now.
We step into the shop, and the scent of wildflowers hits me first. Then cinnamon. Murphy’s still at his food truck, flipping pancakes and probably eavesdropping through the window like the nosy old bastard he is.
Sure enough, as we pass out back to load the flowers into the truck, Murphy leans halfway out of the order window with a spatula in hand.
"You kids sure took your time," he calls out with a wide grin. "Nya never takes her break at noon. Must’ve been real busy upstairs."
Nya blushes so hard I swear her cheeks might combust. She ducks her head, biting her smile, and I can see the way her shoulders shake with a silent laugh.
My jaw ticks. Part of me wants to say something, to tell him to ease up, but it’s Murphy. The old man means no harm. And the teasing is harmless in that familiar, gruff way of his. Like family.
Murphy’s laugh booms as he turns back to his pancakes, clearly pleased with himself.
We work together in easy silence, arranging the floral centerpieces into the truck bed. She checks each vase twice to make sure everything’s secure. It’s all warm hues. Burnt orange dahlias, deep red roses, sunflowers, twigs wrapped in rustic twine. The kind of color that saysfall.
"Looks amazing," I say, meaning it.
She smiles up at me. "Thanks. I hope they like them."
"They will." I brush a piece of hair from her cheek. "And if they don’t, they’re idiots."
Once the truck is loaded, I swing my leg over my bike. She’ll follow me there, and I hate the idea of even a few miles of distance between us, but at least I’ll have her in my mirrors the whole way.
"You good?" I call out.
She nods, settling into the truck’s cab. "Meet you there."
We ride.
The road between Wild Petals and the clubhouse is long and winding, the kind that calms your nerves if you let it. Trees are turning orange and gold. The air’s cooler today, crisp with the first real bite of fall. It feels like a turning point. Like something in the world is shifting in time with us.
When we pull into the lot, a few bikes are already parked outside. I get off mine and meet her at the back of the truck.
