Page 128 of Knotting the Firefighters
This feels safe.
When did I start feeling safe with them?
"How are your burns?" His question is quiet, meant for my ears only, despite the others probably still being within hearing range.
"Already changed the bandages this morning," I report, appreciating his concern. "Managed to apply the cream myself without too much contortion."
Mostly without contortion.
Some positions required flexibility I didn't know I possessed.
"I could have helped if you'd called." His tone carries gentle reproach, like I've deprived him of the opportunity to be useful.
Called him.
Right.
Because apparently I have his number now.
Among other changes, I'm still processing.
"True," I acknowledge, attempting to ignore the heat rising in my cheeks. "I actually forgot I have your number saved now. Will keep that in mind for next time."
Next time.
Implying there will be next time.
This implies this is an ongoing situation rather than a temporary arrangement.
When did I start thinking in terms of continuity?
His smile is warm, pleased with my admission.
"Having you wear each of our clothes is rather hot," he observes with characteristic bluntness. "Possessive display of pack affiliation, visual evidence that you're ours. Should do it more often."
Ours.
He said ours.
Casual as discussing the weather.
Like ownership is an established fact rather than a controversial claim.
"Only if there's a reward," I counter, attempting to maintain some control over this situation despite my body's enthusiastic response to his proximity.
Bear's grin turns wicked—mischief evident in the curve of his lips, the sparkle in his eyes.
"Does making out in an alleyway like lovesick teenagers count as adequate reward? Could find an appropriately atmospheric location in whichever small, cute town we end up exploring."
The image he paints is absurdly appealing—pressed against a brick wall in some picturesque alley, Bear's massive frame caging me in, stolen kisses and wandering hands and the particular thrill of semi-public affection.
When did I become a person who finds that appealing?
When did public displays of affection transform from embarrassing to exciting?
My laugh emerges slightly breathless, carrying more enthusiasm than probably advisable.
"Bet on it. Would definitely like to experience that particular scenario."
