Page 32 of Huck Frasier
“I called you,” I said, reaching out to touch his arm, “because I knew you’d come.”
He swallowed hard and returned to work, disinfecting the cuts along my side with gentle fingers, wrapping them with gauze. When he was done, he sat back on his heels and finally met my gaze.
“You scared the hell out of me.”
“I know.”
“When I finally landed on the ground, I was driving eighty miles an hour through the desert thinking I’d find you cold and broken. And you smiled at me.”
“That’s how I cope.”
“Well, find a new way,” he snapped. Then softer, “Please.”
Silence settled between us. Not angry. Not awkward. Just heavy with everything unsaid.
“I meant what I said,” I murmured. “I don’t want to run anymore.”
He looked at me like I was the last thing holding him together.
“I meant what I said, too,” he whispered. “You could burn down everything around me and I’d still crawl through the ash to get to you.”
I sat up slowly, hissing at the pain in my ribs. He tried to stop me, but I pressed my hand to his chest and pulled him close.
“I love you,” I said.
His breath caught.
“I love the way you show up. The way you fight. The way you see through all my armor like it was never there.”
He kissed me then. Soft. Searching.
But it didn’t stay soft.
Because once the dam broke, there was no holding back.
He lifted me into his lap, his hands gentle even as his mouth devoured mine. I pushed his shirt off, fingers sliding over scars I wanted to memorize. He undressed me like I was something precious—not fragile, not broken, just real.
“Tell me what you need,” he whispered against my skin. I’m going to give you pleasure, and I’ll be so careful so not to hurt you.”
“I need you.”
“No, Marley, your ribs are too bad.”
“Yes, we’ll be careful, but I need you, deep inside me.”
“Are you sure?”
I nodded, breathless. “I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
He took his time—slow, reverent, like he needed to feel every part of me to believe I was still here. His hands mapped the places I was sore and the ones that made me gasp. His mouth traced a path of forgiveness and fire.
And when he finally sank into me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and held on like I’d never let go again.
Because I wouldn’t.
Not now.
Not ever.
