Page 32 of Firefly Embers

Brushing her off, I released her hand and stood up, pacing the length of the small cove, my hands running through the long strands of my hair.

“I’ve been doing some research⁠—”

“Research? You’ve been looking up my form of crazy, Sunshine?”

“You’re not crazy. I think you may have a form of PTSD. It’s⁠—”

The moment she insinuated I was suffering from PTSD, she obliterated all the work we had just done to calm my breathing and my racing heart.

There was no fucking way I was being shoved into a box with America’s heroes. Nothing I did warranted being on the same playing field, or even in the same realm as the people who valiantly served our country.

“I don’t have PTSD! What is it with everyone trying to shove that diagnosis down my fucking throat?” I shouted, standing toe-to-toe with her, my fists tightening by my sides. True to her nature, she didn’t so much as flinch.

“Okay, so you don’t have PTSD. What do you think this is?” Waving her hand from top to bottom, she gestured at my body, currently vibrating with rage. I took a step back and resumed my pacing.

Being close to Rayna Cortez in the mindset I was in was dangerous. I knew in my heart that I wouldn’t hurt her, but I might make decisions that couldn’t be taken back. Ones that might push us over the edge and past the point of no return.

Stepping up behind me, I felt her slender arms wrap around my waist, holding me tightly as she rested her cheek in the center of my back.

“Tell me what you need,” she whispered into the cotton of my shirt. Her words vibrated through me as the thrumming need to lose myself in her took over.

Turning around so we were face-to-face, I placed both hands on the sides of her throat, using my thumbs to lift her chin.

“You, Sunshine. I need you.”

RAY

Words I never thought I’d hear coasted from his lips as if he’d been saying them his entire life. In a way, it felt like we had. The stolen glances, tender moments of silence, playful banter, all of it leading us to this very moment.

We were standing on the edge of a cliff, both of us content to jump but not knowing if we were going to be jumping alone. Except this time, Wade reached out a hand and asked me to jump with him.

“You, Sunshine, I need you.”

Five simple words set me ablaze faster than dry kindling and the spark of an ember. I gripped his wrists, which were holding tightly on either side of my neck, and used them as leverage to pull myself toward him.

I had to stand on my tiptoes to be able to reach his mouth, but nothing was going to stop me from putting my lips on his.

Just like it had been outside Jack’s, there was nothing gentle about the way Wade and I kissed. There was a potent hunger that had been building for almost fifteen years, desperate to claw its way out through our touches. Each brush of our lips sent shivers down my spine and tingles of desire straight to my core.

Like a man possessed, Wade held my jaw, using his thumb to open me up to him as his tongue coasted across my bottom lip, requesting entrance.

With a soft moan, I opened for him and melted into his strong embrace. One of his hands coasted down my side and came to rest on my hip. His grip was punishing as he tugged me closer, erasing any semblance of space between us.

With an agonizing groan, he tore his lips from mine and coasted them down the slope of my neck. Where each open-mouthed kiss had been placed, the cool air coasted across it, bringing goosebumps to my skin.

“Fuck, baby,” he rasped as his hands trailed over every inch of skin they could.

I felt the rough calluses of his hands as they brushed along my waist, hitching up my T-shirt in their wake. The undiluted need in his groan, blended with his words, caused my nipples to tighten beneath my thin cotton bra and my core to ache with need.

Wade had always been so put together, albeit a joker, but he was always responsible and wise beyond his years. Seeing him so uninhibited and possessing the knowledge that it was me who caused his undoing gave me a heady sense of power.

“I need you, Wade Daniels,” I moaned, cupping his growing erection through his jeans. He sucked in a hiss between clenched teeth as I slowly added pressure and continued rubbing against his length.

He gripped my wrist to stop me, and I held back the whimper of disappointment that threatened to spill past my lips. A wicked grin spread across his face as he let go of my wrist and trailed his hand up the center of my chest, avoiding exactly where I wanted him to touch me.

He gripped my neck, adding slight pressure on the sides, and I nodded in approval at his questioning gaze. Yep, I sure as fuck liked that.

I had only been with a couple of guys through the years, and none of them made me feel as powerful and sexy as Wade did.