“About what?”
“About this room.” I tighten my arm around her, pulling her a fraction closer. “Last night.”
“Was amazing.” She lets out a tiny, soft laugh, her forehead pressing against my neck.
“Are you warm enough?” I kiss the crown of her head, the scent of her hair sweet in the cold room.
“Yes.” She goes quiet for a long moment, her fingers tracing a slow circle over my heart. “Wyatt?”
“Yeah?”
“You loved him too.” Bella is silent, her hand resting flat over my heart.
“Jesse wanted this place to be a sanctuary. Not just for the dogs. For the handlers who couldn't find a way back. He thought if we could save the dogs, we could save the men who handled them.” I slide my hand down her back, tracing the line of her spine under the blanket.
“And you? What did you want?” She looks up at me, her eyes reflecting the dawn light.
I look into her dark eyes, the silver light of dawn revealing the vulnerability in them.
“I wanted to save Jesse. And I failed.”
The truth is raw and heavy between us.
“You didn’t fail.” She presses her palm to my cheek, her skin warm against my stubble. “You couldn’t carry that choice for him.”
“Maybe.”
“I miss him.” She curls into my embrace.
“I miss him, too.”
We lie in silence as the light outside shifts, the amber emergency glow fading as the winter dawn takes over. The windowpane is covered in thick, white frost, the patterns looking like ferns pressed against the glass.
Bella stirs, her body shifting under the heavy quilt as she stretches, her legs brushing against mine. The contact is warm, a sweet reminder of the night.
Instead of resting her cheek against my chest, she lifts herself up, crawling over me until she straddles my hips. She sits upright,her bare skin glowing in the pale dawn, her hair falling wild and tangled around her shoulders.
“What’s this? You’re sure you aren’t too sore?” My hands automatically find her waist, my thumbs rubbing circles against her hips.
Bella bites her lower lip, her gaze dropping to my chest. She leans down, pressing her warm lips to my collarbone, then trails a path of soft kisses down to my sternum.
My arousal spikes instantly, my length hardening beneath her, thick and demanding against the sheets. I chuckle, a low rumble in my chest, and wrap my hands behind my head on the pillow, letting her take over.
She lifts up slightly, her knees bracing on either side of my thighs, her fingers guiding the heavy tip of my length to notch it at her entrance. She pauses for a heartbeat, her eyes locked on mine, before she slowly lowers herself down.
A low groan catches in my throat as she takes me in, her heat wrapping around me like a glove. I lie still, letting her take control of the pace. The slow, rhythmic bounce of her breasts captures my focus as she moves, taking her pleasure from me with a quiet, determined focus. The heat between us rises rapidly, the lazy morning friction building into a fierce, demanding burn.
She arches her back, her breath turning to short, ragged gasps as she moves faster, her hips rolling against mine. The clench of her internal muscles is too much, shattering my restraint. I lift my hips to meet her downward strokes, driving deep into her heat until we both shatter, a sudden, blinding release locking us together.
She collapses onto my chest, her breathing shallow and frantic, her skin hot and sweat-slicked against mine. We lie like that for a long minute, our hearts hammering against each other, before she slowly rolls over onto the mattress beside me.
She rests her head on the pillow, her voice dropping to a half-asleep whisper.
“I’m really sorry, Wyatt, but don’t have a choice. I have to sell.”
The words hit me like a bucket of ice water.
I go completely still, my hand stopping its slow movement on her back. The warmth in my chest vanishes, replaced by the familiar, cold weight of the wall snapping back into place.
