I walked to her in a few steps, the air shifting between us. I didn’t sit. Just looked down at her, hands in my pockets, heart kicking a little too fast.
“You okay?” I asked.
She nodded, then hesitated. “Yeah. Just…Declan showing up rattled me. I’m mad at myself for letting it get to me.”
“You’re allowed. Doesn’t mean you’re weak.” I breathed out slowly, allowing the peace to infuse my blood. “You don’t have to tell me everything. Just… don’t shut me out completely. I can handle your mess. I’ve got my own. We can be messy together. Like emotionally unstable raccoons, but hotter.”
She giggled, one that made my chest fill with something warm.
“Maybe we can, but I hate that he still thinks he gets a say. That he still tries to push buttons just to see what I’ll do.”
I crouched down in front of her. Her knees brushed mine as I took her hand. “He doesn’t get to take up space in your head anymore. Besides,” I said moving closer, “that space is mine now.”
“Pretty sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“Brownie, I’m sure of exactly two things. I’ll always want to protect you, and I’ll always want to ruin you.”
She studied me for a second, then reached out a hand and curled her fingers into the hem of my shirt. “And here you are doing both,” she said, the words catching on something between a sigh and surrender.
“That sounds like an invitation.”
“That depends.” Her voice dipped. “Are you here to talk about my ex-husband? Or to forget the world for a little while?”
“Neither,” I whispered. “I’m here because I can’t stay away.”
Her breath caught as she felt the shift at the same time as I did. A shift that neither of us wanted to name.
I leaned in, brushed a knuckle along her jaw. “Brownie…”
The nickname I’d given her hit differently tonight. Not playful. Not teasing. It sounded reverent. It felt reverent. A memory to tether myself to.
She reached for me, tugging me down until I was beside her, half on the couch, half wrapped around her. The book fell to the floor with a soft thud.
Our mouths met with urgency, not rushed or frantic, just steady and searching. I kissed her like I was experiencing her for the first time. Like her lips held answers that I didn’t even know I was looking for.
Her hands slipped beneath my shirt, fingers skating across my stomach, sending heat spiraling low. When she kissed my jaw, my neck, my collar bone, I let my head fall back, eyes closing, breath hitching.
“You make it hard to think straight,” I murmured, pressing my forehead to hers.
“Then don’t,” she whispered. “Just feel.”
I laid her back against the cushions; the firelight casting shadows across her face. She looked up at me like she was trying to memorize something, and maybe she was. I knew I was.
Our clothes came off fast, not tossed aside so much as torn from each other with low, desperate laughs and muttered curses. The heat from the fire brushed over our bare skin, the scent of lavender and scorched wood curling in the air. I couldn’t stop touching her, couldn’t get enough of the way her skin burned under my palms, the way her breath hitched each time my fingers found new territory. There was no patience in me tonight. No slow build. Just the ache to have her.
I caught her ankle, hauled it over my shoulder, and dragged my mouth up the inside of her thigh. Her skin was warm and smooth, tasting faintly of salt and heat. I bit and kissed my way higher, my tongue teasing that tender spot where her leg met her hip. I was about to bury my face in her pussy when her fingers curled into my hair and tugged my head up.
“No,” she breathed, eyes dark and locked on mine. “Tonight, I just need you. Inside me. Just make me forget.”
Christ. My cock jerked so hard it hurt.
“Yes, ma’am.” My voice came out rough, low, already breaking with need.
I lined myself up, my hand wrapping gently at her throat, and drove into her in one hard, deep thrust that punched a gasp from her lips. The slick heat of her almost undid me right there.
“Not yet,” I said, my voice low as her hips shifted, trying to take more. My hands clamped her in place. “You wait for me, Brownie. You don’t move until I say.” Her breath hitched, frustration making her eyes flash. “Say it,” I demanded, tightening my grip on her wrists above her head. “Tell me you’ll wait.”
When she whispered, “I’ll wait,” I started slowly, rolling my hips so deep her mouth fell open, before snapping forward, hard enough to make the sofa shift. “That’s my girl. Now take it. Every fucking thing I give to you.”
