Page 58 of Easy, Tiger

"Y-yes—" The word fractures as I angle deeper, finding the spot that makes her back bow.

"You're not sketching anymore, are you?" I growl, landing another light slap that releases a gasp out of her.

She laughs, breathless. "Mental notes only. I'll draw it later."

"I'll hold you to that." I inch forward, chest to her back, and trail my lips beneath her ear. "Tell me when you're close."

"Close," she manages, the word barely surviving intact.

Her muscles clench around me, pulling me toward the edge right alongside her. Wrapping an arm around her waist, I haul her upright against my torso, her back pressed to my front, and slide my hand down to circle her clit in time with every thrust. "Come with me."

She shudders, head falling back against my shoulder, one hand reaching back to grab my neck. "Now, Nolan, now⁠—"

We break together, her cry sharp and satisfied, mine a ragged groan against her neck. Her body milks me through the last pulses until we collapse sideways onto the quilt, limbs tangled, hearts hammering.

Her laughter puffs warmly against my collarbone. "Overachiever."

"Blame the muse." I nuzzle her temple, breathing in the warmth of her skin.

"Six-fifty pounds of inspiration?"

"Just you." I kiss her palm. "Always you."

Halsey curls into my embrace, her fingers tracing lazy patterns through the hair there. The fire has died to embers, casting the room in soft orange shadows. Her skin is flushed and warm where she fits against me.

"You know," she murmurs, her voice drowsy, "when I first drove up that mountain road, I thought Red Pine would be a place to hide until my career recovered."

"And now?"

"Now I can't imagine leaving. This has become permanent, Nolan. Red Pine is home."

It hits me square in the chest. I've been terrified she'd eventually want to return to her old life, that what we have here wouldn't be enough once the danger passed.

"Good," I say, pressing a kiss to her temple. "Because I've been dreading the day you might pack up and drive back down that mountain."

"Never happening. Though I have to ask—when did you know? About us, I mean."

It catches me off guard, the asking of it. I've never told her about that moment beside the creek, when consciousness returned and I saw her face above mine, exhausted, dirt-streaked, fierce with determination to save a creature that should have terrified her.

"The moment you chose compassion over fear," I admit. "When you sat next to a wounded tiger and decided to help instead of run."

She rests against me. "You were already awake?"

"Barely; saw you cleaning the wound and heard you talking to me like I was something worth saving instead of something to fear." My hand finds her hair, threading through the dark curls. "You could have walked away. Should have walked away. But you stayed."

"Of course I stayed. You were hurt."

"You didn't know I was me."

"Didn't matter." She props herself up on one elbow. "Tiger, human, grumpy woodworker—I would have stayed regardless."

"That's when I knew. That's when I fell in love with you."

Her smile is radiant in the firelight. "Before you even truly knew me."

"Before I knew anything except that you had the biggest heart I'd ever encountered."

She leans down, kissing me soft and sweet. "Well, lucky for you, that heart is taken."