Page 28 of Igniting Her

Cassie caught the retreating hand. “Not because I don’t want you.”

“Then why?”

Her body answered. Everything else braced. “Because tonight, you let me decide.”

Ellie searched her face. Cassie waited. “Okay.”

Cassie sat against the headboard. “Turn around.”

Ellie obeyed.

Cassie drew her between her thighs and caught her wrist. “Open your legs.” Ellie’s knees parted over the sheets. Cassie guided Ellie’s hand down her own stomach. “Touch yourself.”

Ellie looked back. “While you watch?”

“While you follow instructions.” Ellie slid two wet fingers over her swollen flesh. A tremor moved through her against Cassie. “Slower.” Cassie covered Ellie’s hand and set the pressure. Ellie followed, breath catching each time they crossed the same point. Cassie was painfully aroused. She left herself that way. When Ellie’s hips lifted, Cassie stopped her wrist.

“Cassie.”

“Ask.”

Ellie’s breath broke against her shoulder. “Please let me come again.” Cassie pressed Ellie’s hand harder beneath her own. “Now.” Ellie came with Cassie’s hand covering hers. Her back bowed; her thighs closed around their joined hands. Cassie kept the pressure exact the whole time, holding Ellie against her until the last tremor passed. Then Ellie sagged back into her, both breathing too hard in the quiet room. “So,” Ellie said after a moment. “Still an error?”

Cassie turned her head. Ellie’s eyes were already drifting closed. Deployment exhaustion had returned the instant anger and adrenaline released her. She looked younger like this, which was not the same as being young enough to have her choices dismissed. “Sleep,” Cassie said.

“You’ve tried that.”

“It may work this time.”

Ellie’s mouth curved. “Bossy.”

“You objected less than expected.” Ellie’s eyelids drooped before Cassie finished the sentence, and within minutes her breathing deepened. Cassie cleaned her with a warm cloth, brought water Ellie drank without fully waking, and pulled the blanket over her. Ellie rolled onto her side and occupied Cassie’s pillow as if she had been sleeping there for years, one hand open in the place Cassie had left. Like she belonged.

Cassie left the bed. At the window, rain ran silver through the harbor lights. The storm had weakened enough for the breakwater to reappear below, one dark arm holding against the water. Behind her, Ellie slept.

By morning, they would need rules. No nights that became mornings. Nothing at the station. Nothing that asked for a future. Cassie arranged each one carefully, already fitting the next beside it. She stood at the glass and began building the wall.

9

ELLIE

Ellie woke to the smell of coffee and the unfamiliar luxury of not knowing where her clothes were. For three short seconds, she knew only clean sheets, rain fading against the windows, and the pleasant ache left behind by a woman who had turned the word now into a full-body event. Then memory arrived. Cassie’s mouth. Cassie’s hands. The low, exact voice that had asked for Ellie’s choice before taking control of it.

The other side of the bed was cold.

Ellie sat up. Her jacket and jeans had vanished from the floor. A navy T-shirt lay folded on the chair beside the bed, large enough to belong to Cassie and placed there with the care of someone who had no intention of discussing why. Ellie pulled it on. The hem reached halfway down her thighs. She found the bathroom, then followed the scent of coffee into the kitchen.

Cassie stood at the counter in dark trousers and a pale gray sweater, her hair already secured in its low twist. The storm had thinned to a quiet rain. Harbor lights floated behind her in the washed-out morning, and Ellie had the strange sense that the woman at the window last night had been packed away before dawn.

Her clothes were folded on the back of a kitchen chair, clean and dry. That small kindness landed in a place Ellie hadn’t armored because she hadn’t expected anyone to aim there.

Cassie slid a mug across the counter. “Coffee.”

“I identified it from context.” Ellie wrapped both hands around the heat. “Good morning to you too.”

“We need terms,” Cassie said.

Of course they did. Ellie took a sip. It was strong and black, exactly the way she drank it at the station. Cassie had noticed. That felt more dangerous than waking up alone did.