Page 103 of Flameborne: Chosen

With a chuckle, I trotted across the grass to climb Akhane’s mounting strap.

Bren’s lips pursed and she wouldn’t meet my eyes, even though she faced me, her back against her dragon’s neck.

“It happens to the best of us at times,” I murmured as I reached her, still swallowing laughter.

“Don’t try to make me—”

I felt her tense as I looped an arm at her waist and pulled her up against my side. She gave a tiny little gasp and my body thrilled, but I pushed the inappropriate thought away. She didn’t lean away, and she didn’t grimace. Just went quiet as I held her. But this time she faced out, so she was forced to loop a knee around my waist to hold herself against me and her arm over my shoulder to brace her weight so I could lift her off the tension on the strap and unclip her.

Only able to use one hand, she struggled with the firm clip, cursing when she pinched her finger.

“Here, let me help,” I said, my voice gruff after flying in the dry air of the skies. Hoisting her higher, I pulled her harder against me so she could hook both knees on my hips and take her weight to make better use of her hands. But that added tension to the mounting strap, so I had to walk her up another step. Then I hiked her a little higher again, like a child being lifted.

But it wasn’t a child’s breasts that bobbed under my nose, or a child’s ass that I gripped to keep her higher so she’d have less tension on the strap.

I had to clear my throat and think about the winter-lake swims we took when I was a Wing Captain while I stared at her hands, working that clip, begging my body not to respond to the spread of her thighs.

Then she bit her lip in concentration and I was frozen, staring at that plump little pillow squeezed under her teeth.

I wanted to use my thumb to tease it out, open that mouth and lay mine on it—

“Oh, thank God,” she breathed as the clip finally gave under her hands.

I yanked my eyes up from her mouth and our gazes locked as she drew the clip off her belt.

Her eyes were round, her breath shallow and short—it fluttered over my lips because we were so damn close. The wind ruffled those tendrils around her face that had been blown out of her braid while we flew.

But then she drew the strap away and dropped it, losing the extra tension against her body. It shifted her weight—and that shifted mine.

My foot slipped and I cursed in the same moment she squeaked and threw both arms around my shoulders, her knees tight on my waist and her, er, seat pressed into my lap.

A groan started in my throat and I had to swallow it, cursing, forcing myself to focus because if I lost my grip we were tumbling to the ground together.

Bren clung to me, her breath hot on my neck, while I fought to balance us both. I tried to concentrate. Forced myself to focus on getting her to the ground safely. But her body was warm and soft under her flying leathers. And when I was still a few feet from the grass, she held me more tightly to pull herself up my body and I was forced to grip her ass with my free hand to give her leverage.

Then everything happened at once.

My cramping hand slipped on the mounting strap. My foot slid off Akhane’s knee. Bren’s embrace grew tighter in reflex, but my natural instinct to grab the strap with my other hand left her hanging off my shoulders and hips—and that shifted my weight again.

We tumbled backwards.

“Tuck!” It was the only command I had time to get out before we hit the ground, my shoulders taking the brunt of our weight, her head tucked into my neck—I held her and rolled us both immediately to transfer the impact. But I only succeeded in flipping us once, then we came to a stop, me on my back, and her plastered to my chest.

My lungs didn’t want to expand because of the impact. I gaped like a fish, but Bren pushed up to sit—her weight shifting back to press her ass against my groin. I should have been grateful—the jolt that traveled my body from that precious contact sang through my veins and my lungs inflated on a gasp.

We both froze, Bren’s hands braced on my chest, her eyes round, both of us staring as I grabbed at her hips to keep her still.

Or, keep her with me?

Bren stared down at me, her lower lip slack, eyes searching mine. Her gaze was fearful, but hopeful too.

I raised one trembling hand to cup her face and her eyes widened so I could see the whites all the way around. But she didn’t pull away, and her breathing quickened.

The urge to kiss her was so strong, there was a tearing sensation in my heart when I fought it. I tried to speak her name, but my voice failed. I knew I had to move or this would destroy both of us.

Splaying my free hand at her back, I sat up intending to rise and offer my hand to help her to her feet. But then we were sitting, facing each other, her straddling me, and our noses bare inches apart.

And my hand was still on her face.