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He reached out, his wet palm pressing to her flame-touched waist, and instead of extinguishing her, the fire pulsed hotter beneath his touch. Steam curled between them, billowing in the air like breath held too long, desire aching between exhale and surrender.
She shivered, not from cold, but from sensation. From need.
He pulled her into him, and the hiss of flame meeting water was almost audible, a soft, sultry sizzle as her chest pressed against his damp skin.
His mouth found hers, hungry and reverent, a kiss that felt like being pulled under a wave and rising breathless for more.
She had always feared being consumed.But this wasn’t destruction. This was alchemy.
He touched her like he knew every inch of her new body like he had seen her burn, seen her rise, and wanted to worship every part of what she’d become. His hands left slick trails over her hips, her breasts, her thighs, steam curling between their bodies with every brush, every grind, every whispered promise she couldn’t quite hear but felt in her bones.
When he sank into her, it wasn’t just desire. It was destiny. The ocean embracing fire. The phoenix taking flight on waves.
She moved with him, fire lit from within, water rushing over her skin, steam seeping from every point where they met. He thrust into her slow and deep, a rhythm like the tide, a crashing pull and release, overwhelming and anchoring all at once.
She cried out, head thrown back, sparks exploding behind her eyes.
She wasn’t falling. She was flying.Not burning. Blazing.
Just before release hit her like an inferno wrapped in a wave, he whispered in her ear, “You were always meant to rise.”
Quinn startled awake to the muted glow of her first Caracas morning, a sheen of sweat clinging to her skin, even with the air conditioning pumping out cool blasts.That dream.God, she couldbarelybreathe, her ragged breath mingling with the faint hum of traffic seeping through the luxurious hotel curtains, a reminder that the city was already stirring, alive and unpredictable, mirroring her state of mind so closely that it was disconcerting.
But it wasn’t just that thought making her heart race. It washim. Even half-asleep, her heart thumped with a fresh surge of adrenaline. She’d dreamt of his mouth on hers, the same way it had been last night. No longer did her usual shield of wrath slot neatly into place. It had splintered, leaving her unsteady and furious at herself for wanting more.
She fisted the sheets, trying to quell the unsteady tremor in her belly.If I let go of my anger,she thought,am I betraying Brian’s memory?But that didn’t seem to fit anymore, and her next thought made her almost as breathless as Dagger’s kiss.If I do let go, I have to face the truth about Brian, about Dagger, about everything I’ve done.
She willed the knot in her stomach to ease, but last night’s kiss refused to fade. It pulsed in her veins, a slow heat that wouldn’t be ignored. She could still feel Dagger’s lips, firm and warm, coaxing her out of every carefully laid defense. She clamped her eyes shut as if that might filter out the craving she’d discovered in his arms. The craving that threatened her entire existence.
She pressed a hand to her chest, willing her breath to slow.God, how could a single kiss unravel me so completely?Each heartbeat seemed to echohis name.It was absurd, really. She had spent months, years, using that heated shield, telling herself he was to blame. Now, a single brush of his mouth had splintered that wall. She hated how much she loved it.
With a groan, Quinn swung her legs over the side of the bed, bare feet meeting the cool floor. Even that slight shock was nothing compared to the heat of Dagger’s voice in her ear, low and rough,I want to fuck you so badly right now, it’s physically painful.
Her core clenched at the echo of his words, warmth fluttering deep in her belly. She gripped the edge of the bed, her breath snagging in her throat. If she wasn’t careful, she’d slip back intothat haze, replaying every heated second until she was dizzy with longing. Because Brian… She swallowed hard.Brian is gone. But does that mean I’m not allowed to feel this?
Her nipples tightened at those words, a heated flush sweeping over her skin. She felt the press of his body in her mind, all that contained strength and burning need.
Shaking off the thought, she forced herself upright and padded to the stylish hotel bathroom. The doorknob felt clammy beneath her palm, the faint metallic smell of new plumbing mixing with the city’s haze. Steam billowed the second she turned on the shower to glorious hot water.
She stepped under the spray, letting the heat pound into her muscles. For an instant, her mind drifted to how Dagger’s body had felt pressed against hers, solid and impossibly warm. It was enough to stir a fresh ache in her chest, so she cranked the knob to cold. Icy rivulets bit into her skin, shocking her lungs into a gasp.
Get it together,she told herself as she scrubbed away the sweat and desire that clung to her before stepping out, wrapping herself in a thick towel. Fog blurred her reflection in the mirror, condensation dripping like tears.
She knew what letting herself want Dagger really meant. She couldn’t go on pretending Brian had been perfect and about the cracks in her marriage she refused to see. She couldn’t keep blaming Dagger for everything. But if she accepted that Brian wasn’t this flawless hero, she’d have to dig deeper. Resentment, raw and familiar, twisted in her chest, offering a moment’s relief. Indignation was safer, simpler. But the small, insistent voice in the back of her head kept whispering that if she let herself open up to Dagger, if she traded her rage for a new kind of vulnerability, she’d have no more excuses not to examine her marriage. She impatiently swiped over the mirror, turning away.
She had a job to do today. Meetings. Site inspections. Absolutely no time to indulge in fantasies about the man she’d spent years blaming and tried even harder to forget.
By the time she dressed, her skin still prickled, and not just from the cold. She buttoned a lightweight professional dress with trembling fingers, grabbed her sun hat, her briefcase, and her blueprints. The contract went with her everywhere.
But the echo of Dagger’s voice was still in her head, rough and hot. She tried to bury it as she stepped into the mess hall, letting the clinking dishes and casual chatter pull her back into a world that made sense.
Military uniforms. Business suits. David’s detail in matching polos. People drinking dark coffee, laughing like the world wasn’t on the brink. The scent of arepas and bacon wrapped around her like a lifeline, something real in the swirl of chaos still tangling her insides.
David lifted a hand from a corner table. She hesitated. After last night, the idea of facing anyone, especially someone who might notice her unraveling, made her pause. But he looked relaxed, unconcerned. She made her way over, drawn by caffeine and the illusion of control.
“Morning,” he said, sliding a cup toward her. “You look…like you didn’t sleep much.”
Understatement. She offered a nod and took the cup, the heat pricking her palms. “Big day,” she said, keeping her voice even. “Meeting with Gabriel Rojas, site inspections, updated security recs.”