Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 303(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
When I try to help, he gestures to one of the tall chairs at his kitchen island. “Sit.”
A minute later, he puts a plate of food in front of me. I haven’t had an appetite all day, but the chicken smells delicious.
I’m the most relaxed I’ve been for a while, even though an undercurrent of something hard to define is running through me. It’s an unruly mixture of desire, nerves, anticipation, and hesitation, and I have no hope of calming it. Not on my own, anyway.
During the drive here, Buck and I talked about things related to the day’s events, like temporary equipment replacements, the district’s response, and how T.J. would likely do at Kira’s tonight. Now, we eat mostly in silence, but as he sits beside me, his arm only a couple of inches from mine, the air between us is charged with restless energy.
After a few minutes, he sets his fork down. “I’ve been fighting this since September.” When I look over at him, his gaze doesn’t move off me. “The first time I saw you in Moon Ridge, I knew you were trouble for me.”
I should probably laugh, but I don’t. My chest feels tight in a way that’s entirely different from earlier, and the undercurrent of emotions is now raging like river rapids. “You barely knew me.”
“That wasn’t the problem.”
The words land heavy and hot, and I push my plate away. My appetite is gone for reasons that have nothing to do with the food or with stress. “I tried not to think about any of you.”
His brows lift. “Any of us?”
My cheeks heat, but I don’t look away.
When I don’t respond, Buck says, “Tell me.”
I shake my head once as I laugh to myself, because I never imagined telling any of them about how I’ve watched them around town, but there doesn’t seem to be any reason to hide the truth. “I had no idea who you were. You, Weston, and Calder. But I noticed you. All of you. Big, strong, competent men. The kind who protect people and handle things. I thought I just had a thing for firemen, but maybe my body knew who you were before my mind did. About your connection to Tyler.”
Buck goes still.
“I was attracted to all three of you.” I swallow. “I am attracted to all of you.”
He keeps watching me like this confession doesn’t faze him. “I’m not asking you to choose.”
He swivels in his chair and turns me toward him, capturing my knees between his. He rests one of his big, warm hands on my thigh. It’s barely above my knee, but it’s thrilling just the same.
“Are you regretting being here?” he asks.
I don’t hesitate. “No.”
“Regretting kissing me?”
“No.” It’s the opposite. I desperately want to kiss him again, and I’m too worn out from the fires to keep holding up my protective walls.
He slides his hand a few inches higher on my leg as he brings the other to my face and caresses my jaw. “Then I’m done telling myself not to want you.”
He kisses me again, and it’s soft and slow, and feels far more dangerous than the one in my office. He’s claiming me with each press of his mouth, each taste of my lips, each touch of his tongue. Not claiming me for himself—just claiming me.
I grow dizzy as his mouth moves over mine, but he slides his hands over my shoulders, keeping me steady, then rises to stand between my legs.
When I explore his body, it’s warm and solid beneath my touch. I caress his broad chest, then curl my hands around the back of his neck and up into his short-trimmed hair. When I brush my thumb against his lips, his mouth parts, and he licks the pad of it like he’s savoring me.
With an arm around my waist, he tugs my body closer, and a hard shape presses against me from the front of his pants. “Want me to go slower?” he murmurs against my mouth.
“I don’t.”
He pulls his head back an inch, his whiskey-brown eyes burning into mine. “Elena.”
“I’m tired of being careful.”
He kisses me again, and it’s like a switch has been flipped. Suddenly, he’s all hunger and need. He spreads a hand over my lower back as the other gently cups the back of my head, his movements conveying a sort of devotion that feels frighteningly close to worship.
I touch every part of him I can reach—his shoulders, his jaw, his neck. I don’t know where to put all of the longing that’s suddenly overflowing, and I can’t get close enough to him.
I’m not a small woman, but when he lifts me, it’s effortless. I wrap my legs around his hips, and when the heat at my core presses against the bulge of his erection, we both groan at the same time.