“I promise,” I breathe into his chest.
He growls, pulling out before slamming back into me.
“Oh fuck. Please, please . . .” I cry.
He thunders into me, sending me crashing over the edge until every part of me has separated and burst outward.
Wave after wave of bliss smashes into me. Hands grip my face, tilting it up as his hot mouth comes down over mine. Open and hungry.
His hot release spills into me.
Thrust after thrust, he fills me up. Giving me every last drop of him.
Like this man always does. He always gives everything he’s got.
This time, I pull him into my embrace, dusting sweet kisses over his throat as it bobs, his jaw as it feathers, then his mouth before I whisper, “Always, I promise.”
He swallows hard, and I tamp back the emotion he pulls straight through my chest from the depths of my soul.
Before I can object, I’m swept up in a carry hold and he’s on his knees walking over the mattress. The sheet rustles as he moves it and lays me down. He slides in behind, and a heartbeat later the sheet glides over our tangled bodies.
“Always, London.”
His arms slide around my body, pulling me closer until my back meets his chest. I’m little spoon to this gorgeous man’s big spoon. And it makes the complications, the hurts and dangers of the world seem to disappear, even for a moment.
Even for justthismoment.
I’ll take it.
The alarm wails. I open my eyes and send my gaze through the dark space around me.
Quarters. In the house.
I sit up and swing my legs off the bunk, pulling my boots on before tucking my shirt into my pants. My door snaps open, hitting the wall as Davey flies past. “Up and at ’em, Tenny.”
Ah fuck.
I rub my eyes with one hand and follow the blurry bodies of my crew down the well-lit hallway that’s making me squint.
I swear time is all fucked up on shift.
Yesterday I was tucked up against Miles, comfy and warm. Rested, thoroughly fucked, and settled. Today—well, tonight, I’m frazzled, exhausted, and on my way to our fourth callout in twenty hours.
The city can go die in a hole tonight, I swear.
I grab the pole and drop to the garage floor before rushing my turnouts. Davey is pulling his up, a grin on his face.
“Why the hell are you so damn happy?” I grunt.
He chuckles and winks like an idiot. “Someone’s not getting enough rest.”
Fuck off.
“Ha ha. I’ll ask again, what’s with the”—I wave my hands at him—“happy-in-the-middle-of-the-night shit.”
“Wasn’t snoring like someone else.”
“I was absolutely not snoring. Again, why are you awake?”
