Page 14 of Save Me (The Midnight Cove #2)

AMY

T he kiss that Gunner gives me is the hottest one I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing. My body reacts to his, and my fingers tangle in his shirt. His tongue fights with mine, until he pulls back, groaning in frustration.

"Amy..." his forehead meets mine. "We've gotta get out of here, and you've got to tell me to take you to your house or mine."

I swallow roughly, my body on fire for his. " Yours," I whisper against his lips. "Take me to your place."

His eyes flash with something primal, and he captures my mouth again in a brief, searing kiss before pulling back. "Are you sure?"

The drive to his house passes in a blur of heated glances and his hand finding every excuse to touch me, his fingers brushing against my thigh. The tension between us is as electric as the storm outside.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

His house is a modest two-story in a quiet neighborhood, with a well-maintained yard and a porch swing that makes me want to spend lazy Sunday afternoons there. But I barely register the details as he leads me inside, his hand warm and sure on my lower back.

The moment the door closes behind us, we're on each other again. His hands frame my face as he kisses me deeply, backing me against the wall. I can feel the hard planes of his chest through his shirt, the strength in his arms as they encircle me.

"Amy," he breathes against my neck, his lips trailing fire along my skin. "God, you're beautiful."

I've never felt beautiful. Not like this.

Not with someone looking at me like I'm the only thing that matters in the world.

My hands find the hem of his shirt, and he helps me pull it over his head, revealing the sculpted torso I've seen a few times.

I haven't been able to look at him the way I've wanted, but right now I've got all the time in the world, and he isn't hiding himself from me. .

His skin is warm under my palms, scattered with old scars that tell stories of his dangerous profession. I trace one with my finger, a jagged line across his ribs.

"House fire two years ago," he explains softly. "Piece of debris caught me."

I press my lips to it, and he shudders under my touch. "You're incredible," I whisper.

He lifts me then, my legs wrapping around his waist as he carries me upstairs to his bedroom.

When we get there, I take a moment to look around, wanting to learn every single thing about this man I can from the way his room is decorated.

It's masculine, with navy blue sheets and heavy wooden furniture.

But I barely notice because he's laying me gently on the bed, his eyes never leaving mine.

His eyebrows raise as his fingers go to the hem of my t-shirt. His deep voice washes over me. "Is this okay with you?"

"Yeah, yeah it's all okay with me."

He makes quick work of my clothes, and when my hands move down to the button on his shorts, he lifts his lips from mine and gives me a sexy smirk. "We need to have a discussion, babe."

"Yeah? What's that?" I open the button and then gather all my courage, reach down, and wrap my hand around his cock.

He hisses. A slow, sexy sound that causes my pussy to clench. "Condom? What do we need?"

I close my eyes and lick my lips to calm down my libido. "Yeah, we need a condom. There's been no reason for me to be on birth control for a while."

With his big hands, he reaches up and grasps my chin. "Whatever we need to do is fine with me."

I nod, thankful that he's not making a big deal out of it.

I know a lot of men prefer not to use protection.

Those long fingers reach up and pulls the cup of my bra down.

That sexy mouth of his closes around my nipple, which has tightened in the cool air of the room.

His tongue and teeth make my body shake.

There's a lot of fumbling because it's been so long since I've had sex, but Gunner doesn't make me feel awkward, instead he seduces me with his mouth and hands, his knees spread my legs apart, and I writhe against him. With two fingers, he breeches my entrance and presses his thumb to my clit.

I fall apart, with that small touch. Fucking fall apart.

He chuckles, his breath puffing against my neck.

"I'm so embarrassed" I manage to choke out, face flaming.

"Don't be, it's fucking hot."

And then that man stands up, puts on the condom, and slowly presses inside me as I whine against his shoulder.

What follows is tender and passionate, a blend of desperate need, and gentleness I don't expect. He worships my body like it's something precious, his hands and lips mapping every inch of my skin. When I arch beneath him, gasping his name, he captures the sound with his mouth.

"I've wanted this since the moment I met you," he confesses against my ear, his voice rough with emotion.

"Then why did you wait so long?" I tease, my fingers threading through his dark hair.

"Because you're worth waiting for."

With the shifting of his hips, and the thrust of his cock, he does something to me. Fixes what he didn't have to. The broken pieces and the complications and the beautiful chaos that comes with loving a single mother.

Afterward, we lie tangled in his sheets, my head on his chest as his fingers trace lazy patterns on my bare shoulder.

“I need to tell you something," I say quietly, my voice muffled against his skin. Scared to be completely honest with what was going on with Nathan.

"Anything."

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage.

"I know I told you about what happened with my husband, but I didn't tell you the whole situation.

My marriage... it wasn't good, Gunner. It started out amazing because we were in love, and he wasn't beaten down by what he saw every day, and what he dealt with from people who hated the police.

After Rosa was born, things changed. Then toward the end?

Nathan and I were talking about getting divorced.

I'd met with a lawyer, and the papers were being drawn up. "

His hand stills on my shoulder. "I can see why you never mentioned that."

"Yeah, it's not exactly first-date conversation." I lift my head to look at him. "We weren't seeing eye-to-eye about anything anymore. And most of that had to do with his job, and how he was treating me and Rosa."

Gunner's brow furrows. "The job is stressful, especially when personal shit is going on behind the scenes."

"He was a good police officer. But he brought the job home with him every night.

The stress, the cynicism, the need to be in control of everything.

After a particular incident, things got worse.

He started seeing threats everywhere, even in our own home.

He became suspicious and paranoid, and when I tried to talk to him about it, he shut me out completely. "

I can feel Gunner's body tense beneath me, and I know what he's thinking.

"I'm not saying all first responders are like that," I continue quickly. "But Nathan refused to get help. He refused to admit that the job was changing him, affecting our family. He said asking for help was a sign of weakness."

"Amy—"

“Let me finish." I push myself up so I can see his face. "I need you to understand that if we're going to do this—if we're going to have a real relationship—I need you to promise me something."

He nods, his expression serious. "Name it."

"Promise me you'll be honest about your feelings regarding your job. Promise me that if you need help—if the stress or the trauma or anything about being a firefighter starts affecting you—you'll ask for it immediately. You won't shut me out. You won't pretend everything is fine when it's not."

He's quiet for a long moment, processing my words. Then he reaches up to cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek.

"I promise," he says firmly. "Amy, I've seen what this job can do to relationships. I've watched good men lose everything because they were too proud or too scared to admit they were struggling. I would never let that happen to us."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I'm not about to lose you and Rosa too." His voice is thick with emotion. "I've been going to therapy for the past year, actually. After a particularly bad call where we lost a kid. I realized I couldn't carry that weight alone."

Relief floods through me. "Really?"

"Really. It's helped me process things better, manage the stress. I should have mentioned it sooner, but I don't tend to go into it just for the hell of it."

"I think it's wonderful," I say honestly. "It shows incredible strength."

He smiles then, that devastating smile that first caught my attention. "You're amazing, you know that?"

"I'm just a mom trying to protect her daughter and herself."

"You're so much more than that." He rolls us over so he's looking down at me. "You're brave and beautiful and kind. You're raising an incredible kid on your own. You make me want to be a better man."

My heart swells at his words. "Gunner..."

"I could fall for you easily, Amy."

"I could fall for you, too," I whisper, and his face breaks into a grin that lights up the entire room.

He kisses me then, soft and sweet and full of promise. When he pulls back, his expression is suddenly nervous.

"There's one more thing I need to ask you," he says.

"What?"

“I know this might seem fast, but I don't want to waste any more time. I don't want to pretend this is just casual when it's not." He takes a deep breath. "You're gonna be my girlfriend, right?"

I can't help but laugh at the formal way he asks, like we're teenagers again. "Are you serious right now?"

"Dead serious. I want everyone to know you're mine. I want to take you on proper dates and hold your hand in public and embarrass Rosa with how much I adore her mom."

"In that case," I say, wrapping my arms around his neck, "yes. Yes, I'll be your girlfriend."

"Rosa's going to have so many opinions about this," I warn him.

"Good thing I've been working on winning her over," he grins.

"She already adores you, you know. She wants you around all the time." I think about how many times she asks me throughout the day if we're going to see Gunner again.

"She's a smart kid. Get's it from her mom."

I shake my head at his shameless flattery, but I can't stop smiling. For the first time in years, I feel hopeful about the future. Not just surviving day to day, but actually looking forward to what comes next.

"So what happens now?" I ask.

"Now," he says, pulling me closer, "we figure it out together. All of us."

And as he kisses me again, with the darkness of the night surrounding us, bathed by the soft light in the bedroom, I know that we will.

Whatever challenges come our way, whatever obstacles we have to face, we'll handle them together.

This man who runs into burning buildings for a living has become my safe harbor, and I'm ready to trust him with my heart—and my daughter's.

For the first time since Nathan died, I'm not just surviving. I'm living. And it feels incredible.