I pull back far enough to nip at her bottom lip, and she shivers at the teasing bite. Her fingers tighten, fisting in my shirt. I soothe the spot with soft, open-mouthed kisses, feeling her melt beneath them.
When I release her, breathless and trembling, her knees buckle.
I steady her with an arm around her waist and flip our positions, pinning her to the workbench. Tools rattle as she braces herself, her knuckles white on the wooden edge. The dragon topples onto its undamaged side, wing still secured in its clamp.
My mouth finds the pulse at her throat, salt and cedar brushing my tongue.
Her head tips back, offering more in a raresurrender from someone who keeps the world at arm’s length. “Jared.”
My name falling from her lips in that husky sigh sends heat coursing through my veins, and my cock hardens. I work my way back to her mouth, tongue delving deep as my fingers find the button fly of her jeans.
The first one slips free under my touch, then the second. Emily’s breathing turns uneven, falling into a rhythm that matches the pounding of my heart.
The third button catches, and my fumbling earns a breathless laugh from Emily, her eyes lighting up and her cheeks blooming with color. I want to see this transformation again and again, to be the cause of it.
The button gives way, and the fourth follows easily. My knuckles brush the warm skin of her belly, and she sucks in a sharp breath, her muscles contracting at my touch. The fifth button yields, and her pants loosen, revealing simple cotton underwear.
I pause, my hand hovering at the waistband, seeking permission once more. Emily grips my hair, tugging me up for another kiss that answers more than words. Her tongue traces my bottom lip, and I groan into her mouth, sliding my hand lower, seeking her heat through the thin fabric.
Emily gasps as I slip beneath the waistband, the damp heat of her folds soaking my fingers. She bucks into my touch, hips surging forward as if no one has ever touched her like this, proving she’s always been the one to give and never receive.
I want her to lock around my fingers, to have her body pull at me in tight, rhythmic draws, desperate to take me deeper, to claim me. My cock throbs, straining the front of my jeans, pressure building so fast I fear I’ll knot in my pants before I can even get inside her. It won’t matter as long as I please her, as long as she feels how much I want her.
The shrill ring of a phone slices through the workshop, jarring as it disrupts the haze of desire that surrounds us. Emily freezes beneath my touch, her whole body going rigid.
The phone rings again, the sound coming from her pocket. Her eyes snap open, the spell broken.
“I should…” She swallows hard, her breathing unsteady.
“Ignore it,” I suggest.
But Emily is already reaching for her pocket, extracting the phone with a shaking hand. Reluctantly, I withdraw my hand from her underwear, wiping my fingers discreetly on my jeans.
The screen brightens as she checks the caller ID, and the color drains from her face. “It’s Pine Street Hospital. One of my crew could be hurt.” Her lips flatten into a thin line as she answers. “This is Emily Wilson.”
She pauses as she listens to the person on the other end.
Her shoulders drop, defeat written in the set of her jaw. “Yes, I understand. I’ll be there.”
She hangs up, her eyes hollow. “Auren’s been admitted. I’m still listed as his emergency contact.”
The warmth between us evaporates, replaced by a cold dread in the pit of my stomach as the woman who melted under my touch moments ago vanishes, locked away behind armor forged from years of being mentally abused.
“Emily.” I place my hand over hers where she grips the phone. “You don’t owe him anything.”
She won’t meet my eyes. “He’s hurt.”
“He’s manipulating you.” I search for any sign she’s listening. “He saw us at the market. He’s figured out you’re moving on. This is how he pulls you back.”
Emily begins fastening the buttons of her pants, each click of metal through fabric a barrier rebuilding between us.
“Please.” I catch her hand before she can finisherasing all evidence of our intimacy. “Don’t let him drag you back into his orbit.”
For a second, I think I might be reaching her.
Then, her jaw firms. “I have to see for myself.”
The words hit harder than they should. I bite down on everything I want to say. That Auren doesn’t deserve her kindness. That she keeps patching wounds when he’s the one who made them. That he twists her strengths into weaknesses.