“You’re gonna come,” I breathe against her skin, my balls drawing up tight. “And I’m gonna fill you up. I’m gonna mark you as mine from the inside out. Because you are mine, aren’t you?”
“I’m yours,” she says breathlessly. Electricity shoots down my spine, my vision whiting out. “I’m yours, Brax.”
That’s what sends me over the edge, even as I try to fight it back, a loud groan rumbling out of me. I never stop moving as my cock pulses, shooting rope after rope of cum deep into her. I pinch her clit, and she detonates under me, her pussy squeezing me like a fist, milking the cum from me.
I surge forward one last time as I collapse over her, my dick still throbbing in time with my heartbeat. Gracie wraps herself around me, clutching me to her. She lets out a shaky exhale, damp air rushing over my neck, and I shudder.
It takes minutes before I can talk without sounding winded. “You okay?” I lean back just in time to catch her smile, her eyes blue and warm as she watches me.
She reaches up, running her hand through my hair, nails scratching against my scalp. “I’m perfect,” she murmurs. “Messy and in need of a shower, but perfect.”
I brush my nose against hers. “Midnight shower together?”
Gracie dips her chin, shifting under me and making my softening dick slip out of her. She pulls a face. “Better make it quick, because this couch is about to get a lot wetter than it already is.”
I stand, hauling her up beside me, wanting to keep my hands on her and not an inch of space between us. She sighs, snuggling into me, even as she presses her thighs tightly together, making me smile.
“Gracie.” She tilts her head back, her eyes sleepy, and I know I need to do everything in my power to keep this woman. She’sitfor me, and I can’t let anything get in the way of that—even if it’s myself. “Love you, Rumpel.”
Her smile is soft and satiated. “42 percent.”
My head jerks back, mouth dropping open. “Are you kidding? I only lost four percent?”
She lets out the sweetest-sounding giggle, patting me on the chest. “Keep working on it,” she says solemnly. “Who knows what will happen?” Gracie gives me an arch look. “But a good start will be cleaning me up and putting me to bed.”
I laugh, unable to help myself, my hand landing against her ass with a solidthwack. She yelps, eyes flaring with shock, but I’m already ushering her to the bedroom. “Sure, baby. I’ll clean you…right before I dirty you all up again.”
CHAPTER 9
Braxton
“Tell me again what we have,” Asher orders from the driver’s seat, expertly maneuvering the rig around the slow-moving traffic. He lays a heavy hand on the horn when one car doesn’t move to the side despite the flashing lightsandsiren.
“One vehicle crash. Single female driver, possible infant,” Theo recounts from the passenger seat.
I knew that. The chief told us before we rolled out, but a cold sweat still slips down my spine, my shoulders rigid under my bunker gear. I can feel Marco looking at me from his seat behind Asher. I keep my head down, focusing on locking those memories back into the vault they’re seeping out of.
Across from me, Harrison’s focus is out the window, his brows drawn low. He’s not usually on our crew, but he’s covering for Ryan today. A little older than me. I don’t know much about him except that he’s a good guy and damn good at his job.
“Dispatch didn’t get a lot of details before the caller hung up,” Theo continues. “Injuries are unknown. Apatrol car is en route to direct traffic, and the paramedics are coming from Ashland. They’ll be another twenty minutes.”
We fall quiet at that, and I don’t have to guess that we’re all thinking about the last serious crash we got called to.
Twenty minutes wasn’t fast enough…but even ten would have been too long.
Suburban streets give way to empty space and pastures just as Asher curses. “Got a visual. The car is smoking from the hood.” He parks the rig a safe distance away, all of us piling out.
Harrison grabs the Halligan bar before we all pause, critically taking in the scene. The green hatchback is sitting nose-first in the ditch on the side of the road, the front crumpled, and the driver’s side tire angled wrong. There are thin tendrils of black smoke curling up from where the hood has cracked open, and the breeze is tainted with the smell of burnt rubber.
My fingers tremble, but I clench them into fists inside my gloves, relieved no one can see them.
Asher talks into the radio. “Engine 3 on scene. Single vehicle in a ditch, smoke showing. Crew heading in on foot.” There’s a crackled response, but I can’t make it out past thewhooshingin my ears.
Marco moves first, rounding to the other side of the car, his eyes focused on the back window. Harrison goes for the driver’s side, and I inhale sharply before moving in behind him.
The window is down, the woman inside conscious. Curly blonde hair is in disarray around her head, and there’s blood trickling from her nose. Dazed eyes shift toward us, widening as Harrison crouches beside the car, setting the Halligan bar down.
“Ma’am, my name is Harrison. We’re here to help you. Can you tell me where you’re hurt?”
