Page 18 of More Than a Hero (Baytown Heroes #12)

Pete didn’t hesitate. The moment he stepped inside, he shut the door behind him, wrapped his arms around her, and guided her toward the sofa. Even in loose, slouchy clothes, with tear-bright eyes and the weariness of the day settled in her posture, Angie was still breathtaking.

He sank onto the cushions and gently tugged her into his lap, his hands firm yet tender as he settled her against him.

She curled inward instinctively, her arms winding around his neck, her cheek resting on his shoulder as if it were the most natural place for her to be.

He held her, saying nothing, just breathing with her, feeling the tremble of her sadness as it passed through her body.

Her sobs quieted faster than he expected, melting into soft sniffles, and then, just silence.

She leaned back slightly, her face tilted up toward his, her expression vulnerable in the dim light. Before she could wipe at her eyes, he beat her to it, the rough pad of his thumb gently brushing away the lingering tears that clung to her cheek.

With a sniff, she reached for the tissues on the end table, blew her nose, dabbed at her face, and then let out a deep, slow sigh.

“Feel better, or do you need more?” he asked, his voice low and steady, a quiet anchor for her emotions.

She gave a small nod. “I feel better.”

“That wasn’t a very long cry,” he mused.

Her lips twitched. “I didn’t need a very long cry.”

He studied her, sensing there was more beneath the surface. “Do you want to talk about it?”

She exhaled another slow breath and let her gaze drift over the room before finally settling back on him. “You already know why I love my job,” she murmured. “But one of the hardest things is that with the age group I work with, death is inevitable.”

Pete didn’t rush to fill the silence that followed.

He understood the power of quiet. It could pull out confessions, truths, things people didn’t even realize they needed to say.

And even though Angie was more outgoing than he was, she also appreciated the kind of peace that came from simply being present.

She took another breath before continuing.

“Sometimes, death is a release. When someone has been sick or in pain, you know they’re not suffering anymore.

And if they had family, friends, or even one person who cared, there’s a sense of calm in that, even through the grief.

But when one of our clients dies alone…” She shook her head.

“That’s when the sadness is overwhelming.

I don’t know if they were scared. I don’t know if they felt pain.

I don’t know if they went peacefully, or if their last moments were filled with fear. ”

She swallowed hard, and he could see the emotion rise in her throat. “He wasn’t sick, so hospice wasn’t involved. He was just… old. And one day… today… he was gone. I just hate that he was alone.”

Pete tightened his hold on her, grounding her in his embrace. “I haven’t told you this before, but I’m in awe of what you do, Angie.”

She scoffed softly, shaking her head as if dismissing the idea. “You’re in awe of me? You put on a badge every day and go after drug dealers. You put yourself in danger to protect people. That’s what a hero does.”

“There are all kinds of heroes,” he said, his voice dropping to a quiet certainty.

“Some wear a uniform and carry a weapon. Some stand in front of a classroom full of kids who need someone to believe in them. Some work thankless jobs just to make sure their families are fed. And some, like you, spend their days making sure that older people aren’t forgotten.

That their dignity isn’t stripped away just because they’re aging.

You make sure they have what they need, that they’re seen, that their voices still matter.

” His gaze locked onto hers, his words laced with conviction. “That’s heroism, too.”

Their eyes never wavered, the weight of his words thickening the air between them, drawing them closer like an invisible thread winding tight.

“Can you stay tonight?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper. “Will you stay?”

His arms tightened around her. He leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of her mouth—just a whisper of contact, just enough to let her feel the tenderness behind it.

“There’s nowhere else I’d rather be,” he murmured, his lips brushing against her skin as he spoke.

She rested her head back on his shoulder, and he lost track of time, content to hold her, to simply exist in this space with her.

After a while, he spoke, his voice gentle but firm. “Angie, I don’t want you to feel like you asked me to stay out of desperation. I’m here for whatever you need, but if at any time you change your mind?—”

She lifted her head, a small, knowing smile playing at her lips. “Could you get any better? Because right now, I’m convinced you’re perfect.”

A chuckle rumbled in his chest. “Far from perfect.”

Her fingers traced lightly over the back of his neck, her touch sending warmth through him. “You’re perfect to me. Perfect for me.” Her gaze softened, filled with something deep and unspoken. “And I haven’t changed my mind.”

She took a slow breath, then tilted her head, her eyes flickering with something new. “So, really, the only questions I have are, have you eaten tonight, and what time should I set the alarm for in the morning?”

His lips curled into a grin as he pulled her a little closer. “Yes, I’ve eaten. And don’t worry about the alarm—I’ll set my own. I can stop by my place in the morning before work.”

She shifted off his lap, and he loosened his hold just enough to let her move freely. Without hesitation, she stood and reached for his hand.

He didn’t even think before threading his fingers through hers and standing, letting her lead. He wanted her to take the reins. He wanted this to be exactly what she needed, without pressure or expectations.

She led him up the stairs to a hallway with three doors. One was a bathroom. Another looked like a small spare room with half-filled boxes and a yoga mat unfurled on the floor. The third was her bedroom.

She turned to face him once they were inside, her hands still wrapped in his, her expression shifting. A flicker of uncertainty crossed her face, and it nearly undid him. He wanted to erase it, to take away any doubt, any hesitation.

“Angie,” he murmured, his thumbs stroking over her knuckles. “I’m here with no expectations.”

She exhaled softly, then smiled. “That’s good to hear, Pete. In all honesty…” She tipped her head, her smile deepening, a hint of mischief lacing her tone. “I’m here with lots of expectations.”

A slow heat rolled through him, settling deep in his gut. He tilted his head, waiting.

Her fingers tightened around his. “Expectations of kisses. Of caresses. Of everything that comes after.”

Her words shot straight through him, right to his heart, and lower, to where need pulsed hot and insistent. He willed himself to stay steady, to let her set the pace, even as desire coiled tight in his chest.

And then she stepped closer. The first kiss was soft and tentative, an unspoken promise exchanged between them. But as she leaned in, pressing herself against him, something ignited… a slow, simmering heat turning to fire.

His hands slid up her back, pulling her against him as their lips moved together, deepening, searching, learning. She sighed against his mouth, and the sound undid him. A low groan rumbled in his throat as his grip tightened, his body pressing against hers in a silent plea for more.

By the time they broke apart, they were both breathless, their foreheads touching, their bodies swaying slightly as if they needed to stay connected. And Pete knew this was just the beginning.

Angie stepped back, her chest heaving as she sucked in air. Her hands settled on the bottom of her shirt and she slowly lifted it over her head. Pete now found it hard to breathe as her cream satin bra captured his attention.

He wanted to reach out and drag his finger along the lace at the top of her breasts, but he wasn't sure he could move, terrified that this would be a dream and she would suddenly disappear.

She stepped closer, her hands reaching for his shirt.

She slowly drew it upward until she lifted it as high as it would go.

He took over and then dropped the shirt to the floor.

They stepped closer, and his hands, once again, moved to her waist as hers lifted to his shoulders.

Her lips curved slightly, and the gentle smile pierced his soul.

He bent to kiss her again, his tongue dancing over hers.

His hands glided along the soft skin of her back and deftly unsnapped her bra.

He slowly slid the straps down her arms until the silk material fell at their feet.

He pulled her close, and now, with her naked breasts pressed against his bare chest, he felt every inch of her skin branded on him.

He cupped her face as he poured every ounce of emotion swirling through him into the kiss.

His erection was pressing against the zipper of his jeans, painful and eager.

Now, as they dragged their lips from each other, chest heaving, her thumbs slid into the waistband of her sweatpants.

He unbuttoned his jeans, and as he pulled down the zipper, he felt a sense of relief as his cock had room to swell even more. He toed off his shoes and shoved his pants to the floor. She was still standing with her thumbs in her waistband, her gaze roaming over his chest and down to his cock.

Standing completely naked in front of her, he spied a smile on her face, and he grinned. She wasn't coy and wasn't playing games. She liked what she saw, and he sure as hell liked what he was looking at.

She suddenly blinked as though startled and jerked her sweatpants down. He offered a hand as she stepped out of them, keeping her body steady.

The light of the room was dim, but as his gaze lazily drifted from her beautiful face down her body, he spied her swollen knee.

"Not now," she raggedly whispered.

His gaze jerked up to hers, uncertain what her words meant.

"Please, please don't ask about my health right now," she begged. "I promise I'll tell you anything you want to know, but just not right now. All I want is to lose myself in you."

So many thoughts swirled through his mind, making it hard to focus.

He knew that after the day she'd had, maybe she only wanted sex with him as a comfort.

As a way to feel alive after witnessing death.

It wasn't unusual… and while he would grant her anything, he would need to hang on to his heart if that was all she wanted from him.

Her hands lifted to squeeze his arms, and she shook her head. "No, Pete, it's not what you're thinking. What I said didn’t quite come out right." Her brow had furrowed, and worry creased her face.

"Hey," he said gently. When her eyes landed back on his face, he continued. "I'm here, sweetheart. Whatever you need, I'm here. I'll be your person, whatever that needs to be."

She swallowed deeply and nodded. "When I said I wanted to lose myself in you, I didn't mean that I just wanted sex to feel alive or to erase the day.

I meant that I want to be your person, not just a hookup.

And yes, I want you to be mine. Whether it's a tough day, or a celebration, or just I'm glad to be with you… it's all of those.” She shook her head. “I’m screwing this up, aren’t I?”

“Not at all, babe,” he said, cupping her face. “Just say what’s in your heart, ’cause that’s the only way I’ll know what’s right for me to do.”

"It means I want to feel with you. Be with you."

His finger landed on her soft-as-petals lips. "I get it, Angie. And I want to lose myself in you, too."

He bent, and with one hand behind her back and the other behind her knees, he carefully lifted her and carried her to the bed, where he gently set her down. "I'll do anything you want. I just don't want to hurt you."

She smiled and nodded. "My left knee doesn't bend very well right now. But anything else will be perfect."

Wanting to make sure she was as ready as possible, he bent over the bed and placed both palms on either side of her.

He kissed first one breast and then the other, circling her nipples with his tongue before sucking deeply.

He continued a trail of kisses over her tummy and mound.

She opened her legs, and he inhaled her arousal.

Like nectar to a bee, he dove in. With the flat of his tongue, he licked her folds.

Her breath hitched, and he loved the little sounds she made. Her hips lifted as though presenting herself to him. His mouth surrounded the bundle of nerves, and he sucked while sliding a finger inside her sex.

"Oh God," she groaned as her fingers wove through his hair, her fingernails lightly scratching his scalp.

The tiny sting only made him suck harder. As her hips undulated, he reached up with one hand and palmed a breast, gently squeezing the nipple until she cried out. Lapping her release, he buried his nose in her trimmed curls, now filled with the scent of only her.

As he kissed his way back up her body, he nuzzled underneath her breasts, then circled each nipple with his tongue before sucking deeply again, trailing kisses over her collarbone, jaw, and then finally settling on her lips.

Another groan came from deep inside her, and he knew she could taste herself from the kiss.

If this had been all she'd wanted, he had given it willingly. He could wait for his own release. She lifted her hands and wrapped her arms around his back, pulling him close until his cock was nestled between her thighs.

"That's all we have to do, sweetheart," he said. "I'll be happy if I can just curl with you in my arms as we sleep."

A smile curved her lips, and he reveled in her beauty with the moonlight barely shining on her face from between the slats and the blinds.

"That was amazing, Pete. But I want more. I want all of you with all of me."

He’d never had anyone say those words to him when they were also his exact thoughts. He wanted all of her with all of him.