Page 38 of Melting for the Firefighter
Lance catches my wrists.
His grip is careful.
“Don’t hide from me.”
“I’m trying.”
His expression softens.
The hunger does not disappear. Something deeper settles beside it.
“Let me show you what I see.”
He lifts one of my hands and presses his mouth to the inside of my wrist.
Then he lowers his lips to my shoulder.
One kiss.
Another.
He follows the strap of my bra, his stubble scraping lightly over my skin.
My breath shakes.
“Beautiful,” he murmurs.
His mouth moves to the swell above my bra.
“Soft.”
His hands spread across my waist.
“Perfect.”
No one has ever said those words like facts.
No hesitation. No pity. No attempt to convince me.
Lance believes them.
My eyes burn.
“Cora.”
He lifts his head.
“Stay with me.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
His fingers find the clasp at my back.
He waits.
I nod.
