Page 63 of DFF: Delicate Freakin' Flower

He was slow at first, rolling his hips into me in long, deep thrusts that made me shudder. My hands slid down his back, fingertips tracing the ridges of his spine, and I couldn’t stop the moan that spilled from my lips when he hit that perfect spot inside me.

He grunted softly, forehead resting against mine. “You feel so damn good.”

My other leg lifted, and he caught it, pinning me between him and the wall. The angle shifted, so it was deeper now, and thestretch was so intense that I almost sobbed with it. My back arched, head tipping back as the water rained down on us, and Webb kissed along my throat, one hand gripping my thigh tight while the other moved to cup my breast, thumb brushing my nipple.

Every motion was intimate and deliberate. Like he wasn’t just trying to make me come—he was trying to show me everything he hadn’t said since this whole thing began.

I was right there, so damn close. Heat coiled tight and fast in my belly, a deep, throbbing pressure that pulsed harder with every grind of his body, every breathless sound. It was hot, hungry, and barreling toward the edge like it had no intention of stopping.

“Webb—” I gasped.

He kissed me again, and this time, it was wild and deep. “I’ve got you. Let go.”

And I did. I came hard, clenching around him, my whole body shaking as I held onto him like a lifeline. He thrust once, twice more, then followed me over, groaning low in his throat as he spilled inside me, his hips eventually stuttering against mine.

We stayed like that, tangled under the spray, breathless and still, until we got back the feeling in our bodies. After a long moment, he eased us down, both of us sitting on the floor of the shower with the water cascading over our shoulders. He pulled me back into his lap, arms wrapped around me and pressed his lips to the crown of my head.

“I needed that,” I whispered.

“Yeah,” he murmured. “Me too.”

We didn’t speak again. We just sat there, skin to skin, hearts beating slowly back into rhythm. Because for now—for just this moment—we were safe and together.

Webb was lying beside me,his body warm and heavy with exhaustion, one arm curled around my waist like he thought I might disappear if he let go. And he wasn’t wrong.

The window was cracked open, letting in a night breeze that brushed over our damp skin, and the moonlight painted silver lines across the bedspread. It was quiet, with only the occasional rustle of trees outside, a few crickets, and the hush of the ranch settling in for the night.

I lay there, curled against him, watching the soft rise and fall of his chest, wondering if this was the last time. I hadn’t said it out loud—not even to myself. Not really. But I knew. I felt it in every slow, tender second we shared. In the way his hand rested against my stomach, I was memorizing him—his shape, his touch, the quiet certainty of it all. The feeling of his breath on the back of my neck. The way his thumb brushed lazy, absent-minded circles into my skin like he couldn’t help it.

I closed my eyes.

“This isn’t what I expected.” My voice was barely more than a whisper. His thumb stilled mis-circle. “When I came to you,” I continued, “I thought I was just buying time and that I’d be running again within a day, maybe two. I didn’t think I’d…” My voice caught a little. “I didn’t think I’d find something worth staying for.”

He was quiet for a second, and I turned slightly to face him.

Webb reached up to brush a strand of damp hair from my forehead. “I feel the same way. I didn’t see it coming, but it’s real.”

A tightness caught in my throat. The words filled me with happiness as much as they hurt me.

“I’ve noticed,” he added gently, “you’ve been quieter since last night. Since the guy said what he did.”

“It’s just a lot,” I said quickly, hoping the lie would be enough to cover the weight of the truth. “Being hunted, knowing anyone near me’s in danger. It makes it hard to breathe sometimes.”

He nodded, resting his forehead against mine. “I get it,” he murmured. “But don’t carry it all alone. We’ll figure it out, and I’ll keep you safe.”

My heart squeezed at those words, and I smiled faintly. “I know.”

But what I didn’t say—what Icouldn’tsay—was that the roles had shifted in my head. Somewhere along the way, this stopped being about me staying safe. Now, it was about him and his family.

Everyone I loved, everyone who tried to help me, was at risk because of me. That was something I couldn’t live with anymore.

So, I tucked the thought away, storing it deep behind a smile he trusted, and let him fall asleep beside me, warm and close, completely unaware.

His breathing evened out after a while, and his hand went still, leaving me to watch as his chest rose and fell in slow, rhythmic waves.

The time was coming, so I waited and counted to three hundred in my head. Once I hit every last one of those Mississippis, I slid out from under his arm as quietly as I could.

The room was dim, but I didn’t need light. I knew where I’d dropped my clothes and where I’d left the keys to the SUV.

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