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Her grip tightens around me, and I use the heel of my hand against her clit. Precum leaks out of the tip of my cock, and she uses her thumb to swipe it all around the sensitive head.

I pull back from our kiss so that I can look at her. We hold each other’s gazes, neither of us daring to look away.

She strokes me while I work her between the legs. Her breathing picks up, as does mine.

My cock hardens further in her grip. I’m so close to letting go, but she will come first. Increasing the pressure on her clit, I move my heel in a circular motion and feel her tighten around my fingers. She’s almost there. Almost… almost…

Finally, Collins comes apart around my fingers, a strangled cry rising from her throat while she soaks my hand. I let go right after, coating my stomach and her hand. We kiss again, pouring our desire and emotion into it until she finally breaks away.

I gently slip my hand from under her scrubs, and she removes her fist from around me, moving over to the counter on the wall. She washes her hands, then returns with a warm washcloth that I use to clean my stomach and my hands. Collins takes it from me and tosses it into the basket for soiled linens in the corner.

I arrange the sheet back over my lap in case she feels weird about what just happened. I can’t read her.

“I don’t think that was supposed to happen yet, was it?” I try to keep my voice light, but I’m in uncharted territory here.

She looks away sheepishly. I’m sure her cheeks are flushed. “We didn’t sleep together. That’s something.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Is that the new benchmark?”

We both laugh, and I offer her my hand. She accepts, and I pull her into me.

“Tell me. How are you feeling about what just happened?” I tuck an errant hair behind her ear.

“I don’t feel bad about it…”

I don’t speak, letting her get her thoughts together for a moment.

“I know I need to make sure I’m ready for a relationship before we move forward, but I don’t know. That felt right. I don’t think that’s a bad thing.”

I nod, agreeing but never wanting to push my opinions on her.

“But it probably shouldn’t happen again until I’ve worked through my list.”

I nod again, despite knowing that will be hard to accomplish. I cup her chin and give her a chaste kiss. “Sorry, couldn’t resist.” I raise both hands. “Last time until you give me the green light. Promise.”

And I intend to keep that promise, no matter how many times I need to beat off.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Ansel

I’m working today, but I’m not on shift. Instead, we’re hosting an open house to celebrate the twenty-fifth anniversary of the station’s build.

My sister arrives with Elliott, Emelia, and Baylor and beelines it over to me as soon as she spots me.

I’m manning the table with all the pamphlets about fire safety. Needless to say, my table is not busy, while the table that has all the firetruck-shaped cookies and cake hasn’t seen a second of peace. It could be worse. I could be one of the guys working the firetruck itself. They won’t know a moment’s peace all afternoon with the number of kids cycling through here.

Sutton’s getup reminds me a little of Emelia when she first landed in town—professional, unapproachable. She’s wearing a pair of black dress pants and a cream sweater I’d bet my right nut is cashmere. No one would think she’s originally from around here.

“Hey, sis. How’s it going?” I lift the soda I’ve been nursing to my lips and take a sip.

“So, how long have you been messing around with Collins?”

I choke on my drink, a few sprays falling to the table. “What the hell are you talking about?

“Cut the bullshit.” She crosses her arms and raises her perfectly arched eyebrows.

I study her for a minute and see that look on her face. The one that tells me she’s not going to let this go no matter what I say. She’s the cat hovering over me, and I’m the shaking mouse in the corner.