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My cheeks flushed. I didn’t pull my hands away, even though I probably should have. The contact felt too good. His hands were warm and strong, calloused just like Nate’s and Deacon’s. But he had a delicateness to him in contrast with the strength, a softness that didn’t seem to belong to the hands of a contractor.

They felt safe enough to allow in.

I let out a long breath; the weight I’d been carrying since we found the drone crashing down on me all at once. It must’ve shown on my face because Ethan tilted his down.

“Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.

I looked up at his pretty eyes, the golden-brown shades more prominent in the low light. His hands gave me another reassuring squeeze, and that was what did me in. I wanted to tell him. If I could tell and trust Deacon, I knew Ethan was a no-brainer.

“You know that drone we found on the road?” I asked.

He nodded, his brows drawn together in curiosity. I swallowed hard.

“I think I know why it was there, and what it was doing here,” I said.

I retraced the steps of my story, all the way from the beginning with my discovery of the company’s fraud all the way through Jules’ and my planning, to my time here. For the entire duration of the explanation, Ethan said nothing. He listened carefully, not so much as asking a question or shifting his breath. In the end, his hands just gripped mine tighter, not enough to hurt but enough to make his presence irrevocably known.

When I finished, it felt like I’d been hollowed out. My shoulders sagged, my right arm brushing against his with the way we were positioned next to each other. The measly little fire continued to flicker, and the storm continued to rage outside, but there was a shift in the air between Ethan and me.

He reached out and gently tucked my chin in his fingers, then drew his knuckles up and caressed my cheek. A shiver ran down my spine at the contact, heat chasing his fingers on my skin.

“Thank you for trusting me with the truth, Ava,” he said quietly. His fingers were so hot and gentle that it was driving me crazy. “I want you to know that as long as I’m around, you’re safe.” With a crack of thunder, he looked up in annoyance at the leaking ceiling. “Please don’t use this last weather turnaround as a litmus test. It was a freak storm, I swear.”

And just like that, the thick tension between us snapped into something lighter. I couldn’t help laughing. Ethan was still preoccupied with what he considered a failure on his end, and I thought it just made him look even sweeter. I laughed harder than I have in a while, my belly starting to ache with it. Ethan froze, his hand still on my cheek, and I placed my palm over the back of his, pressing it harder against my cheek and leaning into it. I looked at the golden-brown locks plastered to his head by the rain, and the way his eyes sparked with heat at my laughter.

It stirred up something deep inside of me, something that wanted to close the space between us. I wanted to just bask in his soft, quiet strength, wanted to feel what it was like to lose myself in his touch. I let my hand move from the back of his hand to the side of his face, cradling his jaw.

“You’re the sweetest guy I know,” I said, my words raw and unrefined but honest down to the bone. “And I trust you to protect me. I feel safe with you, Ethan. That’s why I knew I could trust you enough to tell you about why I’m here. You’ve been taking care of me this whole time. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

His eyes widened in surprise at my words. But that only lasted a moment as the hand on my cheek moved to the side of my neck. His touch was exploratory, questioning. Curious. His mouth moved to say something, but it seemed like he couldn’t find the words. Instead, his eyes did the talking, and my mouth answered.

I closed the gap between us and kissed Ethan for the very first time. His lips were softer than I expected, almost as soft as his touch, and I melted against them. His whole body seemed to thrum with anticipation, but he restrained himself until the only concession was a low groan in the back of his throat as he tilted his head and started moving his lips against mine. I wrapped a hand in his wet hair, my nails gently scratching his scalp, and a shudder ran through him. Our kiss deepened. Time melted away around us, so did the sound of the storm and the miserable cold. All that mattered was that Ethan didn’t stop kissing me, and that his mouth started moving to other places on my body.

He kissed my throat, his strong hand steady on my nape to hold me in place while he tasted my skin, nuzzling his nose against the side of my neck. My hands slipped down, wanting to get his clothes off as soon as possible, but he seemed to have other plans.

“We’re going to be here for a while,” he murmured, his hot tongue snaking its way up to my ear. I practically mewled like a cat in his arms, my body coiling around him. “Let me take my time with you, beautiful.”

His words stoked my desire. I groaned in frustration but also with pleasure, understanding now that any shyness Ethan may have had in daily interactions completely flew out the window when it came to the bedroom. Or in our case, a crappy little rain-soaked lookout post.

But just like with everything else he did, he was intentional in the way he touched me. His lips trailed down, moving to my neck and my ear as his fingers teased the seams of fabric that held my clothes together. Despite the freezing wind, my body was rapidly heating up, and I could feel my nipples hardening. Ethan noticed, throwing off my jacket and dragging his fingers down the front of my shirt, right over the hard peaks of my breasts.

I moaned, the strange tactile sensation of pressure, cold, and friction working together to deliver something exquisite. He attached his mouth to my neck again, using his fingers to twist and pinch my nipples through my soaked shirt and bra. I held onto him as if my life depended on it, gripping the hair at the back of his head hard enough to make him flinch, then laugh deeply.

“Are you okay there?” he asked, the words coming out in a low mumble against my neck. He dipped his tongue into the hollow of my collarbone, and I bit my lip hard against the cry that almost tore itself from my throat.

“Y-yes,” I stammered, trying to catch my breath.

Ethan pinched my nipples even harder, and I yelped out loud, my back arching and pressing my chest harder against his hands. “You don’t have to hold your voice back here,” he said, soothing them over with a gentleness that had me chuckle in disbelief. “No one can hear us. Be as loud as you want.” He paused, his fingers dropping down to the hem of my shirt. “Please.”

I was lost for words, taken aback by his sudden show of dominance as he lifted my shirt over my head. His deft fingers slipped behind me and undid the clasps of my bra. My breasts were now free, goosebumps all over my skin as the icy wind brushed my skin. But Ethan didn’t give me the chance to shiver. He looked my body over once, his eyes dark with desire as he drank me in before he dove his head down and took a breast into his mouth. I moaned his name, grabbing onto his hair again as every nerve-ending in my body went up in flames.

His mouth was so talented, goddammit.

While his tongue and teeth teased one nipple, his fingers moved to the other. I was panting now, white fiery streaks of pleasure blurring my vision. I was growing more impatient, tugging at his clothes, and he lifted his head just enough for me to get rid of his shirt before he went right back to it, moaning himself the second his mouth made contact with my skin.

He wrapped his arms around my waist and slowly pulled me down so that his back was on the hard, uncomfortable floor of the post’s structure. I could even protest or try a counter-offer because his calloused hands were traveling down my back, squeezing my muscles before dipping down to my ass. His touch was tactile and grounding. It was as if he spoke with his hands, channeling every shared and secret look between us into the imprint his palms left on my body.

He swapped over to the other breast with a low growl, his eyes pinching shut as though he was having the time of his life. I was breathing heavily now, the ache between my thighs in desperate need of friction. He wasn’t letting up, but I refused to just sit and wait while he took his own pleasure. I adjusted myself so that I was straddling his hips. Then I began to grind.