"Good." He steps closer, and I can smell leather and smoke and something that's purely Shaw. His hand comes up to cup my jaw, thumb brushing along my cheekbone while his eyes search mine.
Reading me. Calculating my reaction. Giving me time to pull back if I need to.
I don't pull back.
His mouth meets mine, and it's different from the intensity at the Forge. Softer. Slower. Like he's savoring rather than claiming. His hand cups the back of my neck, his thumb brushing the sensitive spot behind my ear that makes me shiver.
I rise on my toes to get closer, and he makes a sound low in his throat that sends heat straight through me. One of my hands fists in his kutte, holding on, and he pulls me flush against him.
When we finally break apart, I'm breathless.
10
SHAW
Kissing Mira outside the Ironside Bar feels different than kissing her at the Forge. No protocol. No negotiated scene. Just her rising on her toes to get closer, her hand fisted in my kutte, her breath catching when I pull her flush against me.
When we break apart, she's flushed and breathless. Beautiful.
"Come back to my place," I say. "We can work on the case. Go through vendor contracts, financial records."
She searches my face. "Just work?"
"Just work." For now. "Unless you want more."
"I want..." She pauses, considering. "I want to see where this goes without the Forge between us first."
Smart. Careful. Exactly what I'd expect from her.
"My bike or your car?"
"I'll follow you." Practical. Keeping her independence even while agreeing to come home with me.
The ride back to my place takes twenty minutes. I check my mirrors every few seconds, making sure her headlights stay behind me. Protective instinct that's been building since the first time someone threatened her.
Inside my house, I lead her to my home office. Vendor contracts spread across the desk, financial spreadsheets pulled up on my laptop. We've been rebuilding our professional partnership—trust growing slowly, neither of us pushing toward anything more.
Until now.
We work in comfortable silence for maybe an hour. Mira cross-references payment schedules while I review delivery logs. Professional. Focused. The sexual tension from outside the bar simmers underneath but doesn't interfere.
Then she sets down her pen, stands, crosses to where I'm sitting, and kisses me. No hesitation, no asking permission. Just her mouth on mine, soft and certain, taking what she wants.
I freeze for half a second—surprised—then I pull her closer by the waist. She tastes like coffee and something sweet underneath. Her tongue slides against mine, tentative at first, then bolder when I respond.
Choosing me. Choosing this. Giving herself freely.
I pull back just enough to meet her eyes. "We need to talk first."
"Now?" she asks breathlessly.
I keep hold of her waist and nod. "I'm clean. Got tested after my last relationship ended, haven't been with anyone since. You?"
"Clean. Tested six months ago after things ended with Todd. No one since."
"Birth control?"
"IUD. Three years left on it." Searching my face, she asks, "Are you always this responsible?"
