Page 55 of Rescuing Aria
“Oh, come on.” She hip-checks me gently, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “Details. How was it? Is he as intense in bed as he is in the field?”
The memory floods back unbidden—Jon’s hands pinning mine above my head, his voice rough against my ear, commanding me to stay still. The weight of his body over mine, controlled yet barely contained. A shiver races down my spine, my skin prickling with goosebumps despite the shop’s warmth.
“I don’t kiss and tell,” I manage, though the flush creeping up my neck probably tells its own story.
“That good, huh?” Ember grins, green eyes dancing. “I knew it. The quiet, intense ones always are.”
I can’t help but laugh, the sound releasing some of the giddy energy bubbling inside me.
“Alright, fine. It was…” I search for a word that won’t reveal too much while still acknowledging the seismic shift I feel. “Educational.”
“Educational?” She raises an eyebrow, her expression incredulous. “That’s the word you’re going with? Not mind-blowing? Earth-shattering? Religious experience?”
“Among others.” I bite my lower lip, the memories of the morning still fresh enough to warm my blood. His hands in myhair, on my hips, guiding me with gentle insistence. “He’s very—directive.”
“Bossy in bed? Called it.” Ember’s eyes widen with delight, her smile turning triumphant. She lowers her voice further, though Ryn is the only other person in the shop, seemingly absorbed in her work across the room. “Something about these military types. They’re used to giving orders, and damn if it isn’t hot when they bring that energy to the bedroom.”
The casual revelation makes me curious. I’ve wondered about Ember and Blaze, how their relationship works. They seem such opposites—her fiery independence against his steady command presence.
“So Blaze is…?” I leave the question hanging, not wanting to pry too deeply, but genuinely curious.
“Dominant as hell.” Ember nods, a slight flush coloring her cheeks, making the faint scattering of freckles stand out. “First time we were together, he literally picked me up and pinned me against the wall. Didn’t even make it to the bedroom.”
The image is vivid and not entirely surprising. Blaze, with his imposing presence and intense hazel eyes, strikes me as a man accustomed to taking control. The thought of him and tiny, fierce Ember together creates an interesting picture.
“Jon’s like that too,” I admit, keeping my voice low as I arrange candles that don’t need arranging. “Last night he just—took over. And this morning—” I stop, suddenly self-conscious about how much I’m revealing.
“This morning…?” Ember prompts, eyes gleaming with interest as she leans closer.
I glance around, confirming we’re still alone except for Ryn, who remains focused on her work.
“He had me put my hands above my head. Told me not to move them.” The memory sends another wave of heat through me, settling low in my belly. “And when I did move them, he…”I trail off, still not quite believing how much I enjoyed his reprimand.
“He, what?” Ember’s practically vibrating with curiosity now, her attention laser-focused.
“He stopped. Completely.” I shake my head, remembering my frustration, the desperate need to touch him. “Made me put them back. Said if I couldn’t follow instructions, he’d stop altogether.”
Ember lets out a low whistle. “And did you behave after that?”
“Completely.” I laugh softly, surprised by my own admission. “It was… God, I never thought I’d be into that. I’ve spent my entire life fighting against being controlled. My father micromanages every aspect of my existence. The idea of voluntarily giving up control to someone else should be my worst nightmare.”
“It’s different when you choose it,” Ember says, her expression suddenly serious, voice thoughtful. “When it’s play, not real control. When it’s someone you trust.” She shrugs, fingers toying with a chunk of beeswax. “With Blaze, I know I can say stop, and he will. Immediately. No questions asked. That’s what makes it okay to let go—knowing I still have the power to take it back.”
Her insight strikes me like a revelation. She’s right—what Jon and I share isn’t about him controlling me. It’s about me choosing to yield, knowing I could take back control at any moment. The difference between a cage and a sanctuary.
“Exactly.” The truth settles in my bones. “That’s exactly it.”
A small sound from across the room draws our attention. Ryn stands frozen, a polished rose quartz crystal halfway inserted into melted wax, her face pale beneath her auburn hair. She blinks rapidly, gaze fixed on the candle in front of her.
“Ryn?” Ember’s voice softens with concern, all teasing gone. “You okay?”
The girl nods jerkily, not meeting our eyes. “Fine,” she says, but her hand trembles slightly, disturbing the perfect surface of the wax.
Shit. In our enthusiasm to share experiences, we completely forgot about Ryn’s history. Of course, talk about dominant men and control would upset her after what she’d been through. How insensitive could we be?
I cross the room, stopping a respectful distance from her workspace. The scent of lavender and sage rises from her candles, calming and protective.
“I’m sorry, Ryn. That was thoughtless of us.”
