Page 76 of Worth the Fight

“Funny,” I murmur as my body sags against his in contentment. “But . . .”

“We’re enjoying each other.”

A brush of his lips against mine, and then he pulls my bottom lip gently with his teeth, kissing me fully again. His free hand drops the hammer—which lands with a soft thud—and then slowly slides up my thigh.

“But . . .”

“I’m getting lost in you, Dylan. It’s so damn easy. When I’m with you, I forget the bad. I forget the fire. I forget the bad dreams. The three nights you were in my bed were the first nights in forever I didn’t have nightmares. So, I’m kissing you because when I’m with you, my mind stops, and the world starts turning again.”

His name is a sigh on my lips, and my heart stops and then starts again at words more seductive than have ever been spoken to me before.

“But what about when I have to leave⁠—”

“We’re enjoying each other. We’re getting lost in each other. And that’s enough for right now. That’s what both of us need. You’re getting over someone, and I’ll never be in a position to commit . . . and that’s okay.”

The desperation in his kiss and the conviction in his words drown out the questions and concerns I know I should be thinking to guard my heart.

It’s my turn to lean forward and initiate. And while my lips kiss his to tell him his words are enough, my hands slip beneath the hem of his shirt and pull it over his head. I need to feel his skin. I need to give him the same unspoken reassurances he’s given me in the only way I know how to.

“I thought you didn’t like firefighters.” He laughs, his lips moving against mine, and his hand coming up to cup my breast and ignite the frenzy of nerves in my hardened nipple.

My mouth spreads into a smile I know he can feel. “I’m making an exception this one time.”

“One time?” He leans forward and steals another kiss. “Baby, I plan on making it a hell of a lot more than one time.”

“Promise?” I chuckle.

“You say I need to get used to firefighting again, you know what the first step in training is?”

“What’s that?” My breath hitches as he rolls my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, sending a lightning rod of sensation straight down to the apex of my thighs.

“Knowing how to use my hose.”

My laugh turns into a moan as his hand slides down my torso and dips beneath the waistband of my shorts. “Mm, I don’t think you can put this fire out, Malone.”

“You bet your ass I’m going to try.”

With that, our lips crash against each other’s as his hands go to both of my hips and shift me so I sit astride his lap. I can feel him hard and ready against his board shorts, and as I deepen the kiss, I slide my hands ever so gently over his flank and onto the ridged skin of his lower back.

I swallow his gasp, refusing to let him pull away. Not allowing him to think about his back or his scars or be self-conscious. If he’s getting lost in me, I want all of him to be able to. His doubts. His insecurities. His everything.

And so I let my lips and my hands do the talking as they continue to slide over his scarred skin until they hook under his arms and pull him against me. Just like any normal couple would.

Without thinking about our pasts.

Without thinking about our future.

And I ride him under the glow of moonlight, on the steps of the back porch, and we get lost in each other once again.

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

DYLAN

“Everything going good for you?” my agent asks.

“Yeah. Sure,” I reply, distracted as I hold the phone to my ear, balance the box the delivery man just handed me in the other, and close the door with my hip.

“Are you sure?”