Total pages in book: 23
Estimated words: 24365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 24365 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 122(@200wpm)___ 97(@250wpm)___ 81(@300wpm)
“You’ve been different,” she says lightly.
“Different good or different bad?”
“Different open,” she says. “You’re not hiding anymore.”
I glance at her. “You did that.”
She shakes her head. “You chose it.”
We stop at the overlook. The world spreads out below us, bright and ordinary and enough. Ember leans on the railing, eyes distant.
“I love this place,” she says. “I love what we’ve made.”
“Me too.”
The words land heavy. Right.
I turn to face her. She follows my movement, curiosity flickering across her face. “What’s that look?”
“The one where you’re about to tell me something that will either make me laugh or punch you?” she asks.
“Neither,” I say. “Hopefully.”
I take her hands. They’re warm. Steady. I drop to one knee before my courage can change its mind.
Her breath leaves her in a soft, surprised sound. “Boone.”
“Ember Price,” I say, voice rough. “Firefly.”
Her eyes shine. “You’re doing it.”
“I’m doing it,” I confirm. I pull the ring from my pocket—simple, engraved with a small flame on the inside. “You brought me back to myself. You didn’t fix me. You stood with me while I figured it out.”
She laughs through tears. “You’re proposing like it’s a mission debrief.”
“Old habits,” I say. “Marry me. Be the light I come home to. Be my forever.”
She doesn’t hesitate. She drops to her knees with me, hands cupping my face. “Yes. God, yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits like it was made for her. She pulls me up and kisses me, hard and laughing and real, the kind of kiss that promises trouble and comfort in equal measure.
“Firefly,” I breathe against her mouth.
“My grump,” she whispers back.
We walk back down hand in hand, the future humming between us like a steady flame. The workshop door is still open, the radio still playing. I close it gently this time, not because I need to hide, but because it’s the end of a good day.
At home that night, Ember cooks while I set the table, bumping hips and stealing touches. We eat on the porch, stars coming out one by one. She rests her head on my shoulder.
“Do you ever think about how scared you were?” she asks.
“All the time,” I say. “Then I think about this.”
She smiles, content. “Good answer.”
I press a kiss to her hair. The burn in my chest is warm now, controlled. A fire you can build a life around. A steady burn.
I pull her into my arms then, crushing my lips onto hers in a searing kiss that shows exactly what I want. Her fingers push through my hair, soft whimpers and guttural moans tearing from her throat as I cup her face and thrust my tongue past her lips. “You drive me insane when you tease me,” I growl between bruising kisses. “You waltz around my life lookin’ all cute in my flannel, take over my cabin, stir desires I didn’t even know existed. You’ve ruined me, Firefly.”
A low groan rips from me as I carry her into the cabin and to the studio at the back of the house. I lift her up on her workbench, slipping her jeans and panties down her legs before spreading her thighs and trailing my tongue along the warmth of her dripping wet slit.
She arches, tangling her fingers in my hair and pulling me closer to her pussy. I lick and suck, loving the way she comes alive at my hand.
Unable to resist her anymore, I push myself up to standing and pull the zipper down on my jeans. My cock throbs and twitches with desire for her, she smiles, wrapping her small hand around my thick length. She pulls me closer, teasing the tip of me at her sweet, soft pussy. I growl against her neck, nipping at her flesh before pushing my hips into her, letting her feel the rock-solid hardness of my cock.
Her breath hitches, voice trembling against my mouth. “You make me crazy.”
“Not nearly as crazy as you make me, woman.” I nip her lower lip, tilt her head, arch her long neck. My teeth rake the soft curve of her throat. “You like when I claim this needy pussy?”
Her teeth clamp down on her bottom lip as I thrust deeper.
“Who owns this?” I murmur, teeth grazing her ear.
Her hips jerk, shoulders digging into me as she gasps, “You.”
“Say it again,” I rasp, “and use my name.” I yank her tighter against the wall of my chest, her legs lock around my waist as her round ass cheeks hover at the edge of the workbench. “Say it.”
“You own my pussy. You own my pussy forever, Boone.”
“That’s my precious girl.” I clamp my lips to the column of her throat, supporting us both with one arm while my other hand massages her full breast. My fingers swirl, thrust, pinch at the peak of her rosy nipple.