Page 43 of Melting for the Firefighter
His mouth shines.
I should be embarrassed.
Instead, I pull him down and kiss him.
He groans when I taste myself on his tongue.
The sound makes something reckless bloom inside me.
His hard length presses against my thigh through his jeans.
The size of him sends a nervous flutter through my stomach.
Lance feels me tense.
He pulls back immediately.
“Talk to me.”
My face burns.
“I’ve never done this.”
His brow furrows.
“Any of it,” I add. “I’m a virgin.”
He goes still.
For one terrible second, I think I have ruined everything.
Then his hand cups my cheek.
“Why are you looking at me like I might be angry?”
“It’s a lot.”
“It’s yours.”
His thumb brushes beneath my eye.
“Your body. Your choice. You give it when you’re ready.”
“I choose you.”
The words change him.
Possessive heat flashes across his face, followed by something tender enough to hurt.
His forehead settles against mine.
“You almost died two days ago. You still have smoke in your lungs. Your hip is bruised.”
“I feel alive.”
“Cora.”
“I spent years waiting to feel good enough to want anything.”
