Page 46 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

Then, I noticed something missing. She didn’t have her gun on her.

I frowned and scanned the room, expecting to see it tucked somewhere nearby. But it wasn’t on the counter, the windowsill, or the edge of the pantry where she usually left it. My gaze dropped to her waist. It definitely wasn’t in the back of her shorts—there was no way I wouldn’t have noticed that—and the front wasn’t tugged or weighed down. Which meant she’d hidden it on her body somewhere.

“Where’s your gun?” I asked, trying to sound casual.

She barely glanced over her shoulder as she replied, “It’s on me.”

That answer didn’t help. In fact, it made things worse. Because now I was picturing every possible place it could be tucked—and every inch of skin I hadn’t yet had the privilege of seeing. And suddenly, it was no longer just about safety, it was about curiosity and heat. It was Gabby driving me out of my fucking mind without even trying.

I stepped in behind her slowly and deliberately, closing the space between us. Her attention was on the plates she was stacking, unaware—or pretending to be oblivious—of the way my eyes traced every inch of her. My hand came up, dragging gently along the waistband of her shorts. She stilled, and my fingers slid over the soft dip of her side, firm and focused, searching for any sign of metal or weight. They encountered nothing.

I moved to the other side, slipping my hand up beneath the hem of her tank top and gliding it along her warm skin, which was flushed from the heat. Still no sign of the gun.

Leaning in close, I let my breath brush her ear, my mouth hovering just behind it as I murmured, “Where is it, baby?”

She inhaled sharply, her body tense against mine. She didn’t answer at first like the question had short-circuited her brain. “What?” she breathed out, sounding dazed.

I nuzzled her neck, my lips brushing the delicate skin there, and asked again, voice low and deliberate, “Where’s your gun?”

“I… forget,” she whispered, and it broke into something halfway between a confession and a breathless apology.

I laughed softly, the sound warm against her neck. I couldn’t help it. She’d forgotten. The woman who was supposed to be armed had stashed her weapon somewhere in the ether and leftme chasing shadows on her body. I pressed a kiss behind her ear because, at that point, the only thing I could think was fuck it.

The moment the kiss landed, she spun in my arms with a speed that caught me off guard. Her hands found my shoulders and gripped tight, and before I could speak, she jumped. I caught her easily, my hands sliding to her thighs as her legs wrapped around my waist. And then she kissed me.

Hard. Hungry. Like she’d been waiting just as long and had finally reached the point where waiting wasn’t an option anymore. I turned with her in my arms and pressed her back against the nearest wall, my mouth moving over hers like I’d been holding this back for days—which I hadn't. She tasted like heat and every damn thing I hadn’t let myself want until she'd come into my life.

My fingers dug into her legs, anchoring her to me as her arms wound around my neck, pulling me closer and deeper. The world outside the cabin didn’t exist. Not the heat, not the danger. Not the raccoons or the bounty or the way we were both supposed to be keeping a low profile.

All I knew was her. And in that moment, I didn’t want anything else.

Gabby shifted slightly, and before I could react, her leg slid just enough that my hand slipped beneath the tiny strip of fabric that made up the leg of her shorts. I froze as my breath caught in my throat. My palm was suddenly filled with the soft curve of her ass, warm and smooth against my skin.

For a moment, I couldn't move. The shock of it lit up my nerves, and then my fingers twitched—just a reflex, but enough to makeme realize something even more dangerous. The tips of them were barely brushing the edge of her pussy.

My pulse slammed in my ears. I hadn’t meant for it to happen, hadn’t planned it, but the sensation of that satin-soft skin beneath my fingertips made it impossible to think. A groan rumbled low in my chest before I could stop it, swallowed between our mouths as I kissed Gabby harder, deeper—like I could drown in her and not care about the consequences.

My hand stayed where it was, neither pressing further nor pulling back. I was caught in that electric space between restraint and want, and every inch of her under my touch just made it harder to remember which side I was supposed to land on.

Gabby moaned into my mouth, and it did something to me—something wild and electric. I dragged my lips from hers, only long enough to kiss along her jaw, her throat, and the delicate spot just beneath her ear where I felt her shiver. Her hands tangled in my hair, pulling me back to her mouth like she couldn't stand the distance any more than I could.

She arched into me, her hips grinding against mine, and I could feel how hot and wet she already was just from kissing and touching. That thin barrier of fabric between us might as well have been nothing. My hand slipped further beneath her shorts, fingers sliding through slick heat, and the way she gasped—sharp and breathless—nearly undid me right there.

“Webb,” she whispered, her voice wrecked and needy.

That was all it took. I gripped the back of her thighs and lifted her easily, her legs wrapping back around my waist as instinctively as breathing. She laughed, breathless and hotagainst my neck, and I carried her to the nearest wall, pressing her back against the cool tile of the kitchen.

Her eyes locked with mine—dark, full of fire—and I knew we were past the point of no return.

I yanked her shorts down with one hand, taking her panties with them and baring her completely. She reached between us, undoing my fly with the same urgency, her fingers brushing against me and pulling a groan straight from my chest. I pushed my jeans low enough to free myself, and then I was there, pressed against her, just stopping before I pressed inside.

We were both panting, every second stretched tight like a live wire. I looked at her one last time, giving her the chance to stop this, to say no, but she didn’t.

Instead, she grabbed my face and pulled me into a kiss that was all teeth and tongue and hunger. I thrust into her in one slow, deep motion, and we both cried out—hers high and gasping, mine low and guttural.

God, she felt like heaven—hot and wet and tight around me, her body clenching as she adjusted, with her nails digging into my shoulders. I started to move slowly at first, savoring every inch of her. She rocked against me, hips matching my rhythm and her breath hot against my ear as she whispered filthy, perfect things that made my control fray.

I pressed her harder into the wall, fucking her deep and steady, watching her fall apart with every thrust. Her head fell back, mouth open in a silent moan as I hit just the right spot, over and over, until her legs trembled, and she clutched at me like she’d fall apart without me holding her together.

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