Page 101 of The Devil of Downtown

I yelp as he swoops in, scooping me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing. My shriek bounces off the trees, and I clutch the back of his jacket for dear life.

“Hey! Put me down!”

“You might want to rephrase that,” he warns, laughter rumbling in his chest, his arms locked tight around my wriggling legs.

I huff. “Fine. Assertive. With... leadership qualities. Happy?”

I feel every brush of contact as he lets me slide down his body. I wait until my feet are firmly on the floor and I’m a few paces ahead before I mutter under my breath, “In other words, a real pain in the ass.”

I don’t get far. He lunges after me, and I squeal, running a few yards before laughter gets the better of me. I bend over, hands on my knees, trying to breathe.

Grabbing hold of my waist, he backs me against a giant boulder. He cages me in with his arms, one braced beside my head, the other drifting to my face. His eyes roam my face, down my throat, over my heaving chest, and a wicked smile curves his lips.

“This smart mouth,” he murmurs, tracing the outline of my lips with his fingertip, “is going to get you in trouble one day.”

I nip lightly at his finger in answer. “Looks like it already has.”

Something dark and hungry flickers across his expression. His thumb hooks gently on my lower lip, tugging it down, opening me just a little for him. He holds me like that, exposed, his gaze burning into mine. Then leans in, and his teeth close gently around the plump flesh of my lip. A sharp, possessive pressure that makes me gasp, the sound swallowed instantly as his mouth crashes down on mine.

The kiss isn’t gentle. It’s a conquest. I melt against the boulder, my body turning liquid under his assault. My hands fly up, gripping his shoulders as his tongue sweeps into my mouth with a hunger that makes my knees tremble.

A low groan escapes him as he fists my hair, tilting my head back to give him deeper access. The other arm wraps around my waist, crushing my body against his. I’m lost in the taste and scent of him, the feel of his powerful body holding me captive.

Until a sharp crackle of movement bursts from the brush to our right. We break apart, both of us gasping for air, our heads snapping toward the sound.

A fat, striped squirrel barrels out from under a fern, stops dead, and stares at us like it’s taken our existence personally. After a beat of judgmental silence, it chitters and scampers up a tree.

A laugh bursts out of me—breathless, giddy, impossible to hold in.

Dane exhales a low, almost disbelieving chuckle, his forehead dropping to mine like he can’t quite pull himself away.

“Come on,” he murmurs, brushing his thumb over my jaw before he offers me his hand.

I slide my fingers into his. The warmth of his grip anchors me as he nods uphill.

“We’re almost at the top.”

The trail steepens, winding between pines and slabs of sunlit rock. My legs burn, but it’s a good burn—the kind that makes me feel alive. Dane stays close, occasionally resting his palm on the small of my back to steady me, guiding me over roots and uneven earth like he’s done this trail a hundred times.

A breeze picks up, cool and clean, carrying the scent of pine needles and distant snow. Birds chatter overhead, hopping between branches like they’re arguing about us invading their territory. Dane keeps glancing back at me, a small smile tugging at his mouth each time he catches me looking at him instead of watching where I’m going.

By the time we crest the final rise, my breath is already thin, but the view hits me like a punch.

The mountains stretch toward the horizon in endless rolling blue shadows. Below, the lake mirrors the bright winter sun; the sky so clear it glows.

I sink onto a sun-warmed boulder, letting the heat sink into my palms. “It’s beautiful,” I sigh.

Dane sits beside me, his thigh brushing mine, his gaze fixed entirely on me.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice soft—but he’s not looking at the view.

My stomach flips so hard I swear it lifts me an inch off the rock.

He reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek, the touch filled with reverence.

The kiss he gives me this time is nothing like the one against the boulder earlier.

It’s slow.