Page 115 of Honeyfires

"Your turn," she whispered, but I shook my head.

"I just need—" I couldn't finish. Didn't know how to explain that I needed to give, not receive. Needed to focus on her pleasure instead of my own spiraling thoughts.

"I know what you need." Her voice was soft but firm. "And you need to let me take care of you, too. Please, Petra. Let me."

She guided me back against the couch cushions, her hands already working my pants open. When she settled between my thighs, I felt tears prick my eyes again—not from sadness this time, but from the overwhelming feeling of being cared for, being seen, being loved even at my most broken.

Her mouth on me was gentle at first, tentative, like she was afraid of hurting me. But when I gasped her name, when my hands found her hair, she increased the pressure, her tongue working me with growing confidence.

"Vera," I breathed, my hips moving against her mouth. "Baby, that's—oh god…”

She hummed against me, the vibration sending shocks of pleasure through my body. One of her hands slid up my stomach, between my breasts, finding my racing heart. Grounding me. Reminding me that I was here, alive, safe.

The orgasm built slowly at first, then crashed over me like a wave, pulling a broken sound from my throat. Vera didn't stop, working me through it with gentle insistence until I had to push her away, oversensitive and trembling.

She climbed up my body, wrapped herself around me, and held me while I caught my breath. Neither of us spoke for a long time. We didn't need to. Her heartbeat against my chest said everything that needed saying.

Eventually, she grabbed the throw blanket from the back of the couch and pulled it over us, cocooning us in warmth.

"Whatever happens with the investigation," she said softly, running her fingers through my hair, "we'll face it together."

"They're going to crucify me." My voice was raw, broken from crying and smoke damage.

"Maybe. But you saved your crew."

"Did I?" The doubt crept back in despite the temporary reprieve of pleasure and release. "Or did I just panic and get lucky?"

"You trusted your instincts." She tilted my face up to look at her. "You read the fire, saw the danger, and acted. That's not panic. That's training and experience and being good at your job."

"Rodriguez almost said I was right," I admitted quietly. "Basically implied the homes were already lost."

"Then why are you suspended?"

"Because I disobeyed a direct order. Because I undermined his authority in front of the crew. Because six homes are lost and they need someone to be the fall guy." I closed my eyes. "Because even when you're right, there are consequences for breaking the rules."

"That's bullshit."

I almost smiled at the vehemence in her voice. "It's protocol."

"It's still bullshit. You saved lives, Petra. That should matter more than protocol."

"In a perfect world, maybe. But this isn't a perfect world." I pulled her closer, breathing in her vanilla-coconut scent. "This is a world where firefighters die because someone made the wrong call. Where homes burn because the wind shifts at the worst possible moment. Where doing the right thing can still cost you everything."

"Not everything." Her arms tightened around me. "You still have me. You still have your crew because the ones who matter will understand. You still have yourself, your instincts, your training, and your honor. They can't take that away with a suspension."

I wanted to believe her. Wanted to trust that this would all work out, that the investigation would clear me, that I could keep doing the job I loved.

But right now, wrapped in Vera's arms with her scent surrounding me and her heartbeat grounding me, I could let myself just exist. Just be Petra—not Forewoman Alves, not the woman under investigation, not the person carrying eight years of trauma and guilt.

Just Petra. Loved. Safe. Home.

"I could've died today," I whispered into the darkness. "Stevens could've died. We all could've."

"But you didn't." Vera’s arms tightened around me. "You're here. You're alive. You're with me."

"Yeah." I closed my eyes, breathing her in. "I am."

Tomorrow would bring the start of the investigation, the questions, the crew's reactions, the potential end of my career. Tomorrow would bring all the consequences of the choice I'd made on that ridge.