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Jonah sets a slow rhythm and I follow his lead. We move together, one of us always inside her, bodies syncing with each thrust. Her moans turn into sobs. Her whole body rocks between us, sweat sliding down her back, skin flushed and glowing.

“You love this, don’t you?” Jonah growls.

“Fuck—yes—don’t stop.” Her voice breaks.

I reach down and rub her clit, soft at first, then harder when she starts to shake. She cries out, body clenching around both of us.

“Come for us,” I tell her. “Let go. We’ve got you.”

She falls apart fast. Her body is pulsing so hard we both have to hold her steady. Her legs give out. Her arms collapse. Jonah wraps an arm around her waist to keep her upright while I keep fucking her.

“Mine,” Jonah says again, voice rough.

“Ours,” I echo. “She’s ours.”

“I’m yours,” she cries. “All of yours.”

Jonah groans as he thrusts deep one final time, his release hitting him with a shudder. I follow right after, hips jerking, cock pulsing as I come hard, buried deep inside her. We stay locked there—pressed against her, around her, inside her—until the only sound left in the room is the sound of her breath, slow and trembling.

We lower her gently to the mattress between us.

She’s a mess of sweat and tears and love, and I’ve never seen anything so fucking beautiful in my life.

Chapter 28

Ani

Jonah kisses me before he leaves. Then he slips out the door, glancing back at me one more time.

Finn pulls me back against his chest. “He’s probably already thinking about turning around and coming back,” he murmurs into my hair.

His fingers rub my lower back as he guides me back toward the bed. I follow because I want to, not because I have to. I think about how important that is to me these days.

We curl up on the narrow mattress, my back tucked to his chest, one of his legs on top of mine. His hand stays wrapped around my waist. My breathing finally steadies and my pulse slows. I don’t fall asleep, but my body begins to remember what rest is supposed to feel like.

It lasts maybe ten minutes.

Suddenly, there’s a loud clatter. Finn sits up so fast the mattress jerks beneath me. There’s a pause, and then a metallic snap. Then another.

Finn’s hand grabs for the radio we left charging on the bedside table.

“Dispatch, this is Station One. Possible attempted entry. Requesting immediate unit response. Over.”

He’s already stepping into his pants, keeping the radio clutched in one hand while using the other to push me gently behind him. His bare chest is rising and falling fast, but his voice stays level.

“Ani, phone. Now.”

I scramble across the mattress, grab my cell from where it’s wedged in the blankets, and dial the sheriff directly. I press the phone to my ear.

“Sheriff’s office,” a woman answers, but I cut her off.

“This is Ani Sarkissian. Someone’s trying to break in—at the firehouse. Boone’s station. We’re in the bunk room, second floor.”

Finn shoves Boone’s abandoned chair in front of the door just in time. The knob rattles. The frame shudders.

A pause. Then a click as the sheriff is transferred. “Ani?”

“It’s me,” I whisper, voice shaking. “They’re at the door.”