Page 14

Orion

As I lead Briar to the SUV in the lot, I spot something on her car in the lot. I put her into the SUV. “Lock the door,” I tell her.

“What? Where are you going?”

I place a reassuring hand on her shoulder as she sits in the SUV. “I just want to check a few things,” I tell her, hoping she doesn’t see the obvious note on her car too.

She nods, and I shut the door. She stares at me, and I tap on the window.

“Lock up,” I tell her once again.

She locks the doors, and I head off in the direction of her vehicle in the lot. I pull the wiper back and clutch the small scrap of paper. I stare at the note, and in sloppy handwriting is scrawled:

You think he can save you?

There’s no signature, but we don’t need one. Everything about this screams Jason. The clipped, threatening tone, the sense of being watched. He knows I’m here, and he wants Briar to know it.

Motherfucker. Part of me wants to hurl a curse into the darkness. Instead, I clamp my jaw shut and breathe. I need to tell Briar about the note.

Not now, I decide, slipping the note into my jacket pocket. Later, when she’s calmer. She’s in enough distress as it is. We have time to strategize. Let her rest for now.

By the time I climb into the SUV, Briar turns to face me. “Everything all right?” she asks, voice low, eyes darting to me.

I force a reassuring smile. “Just needed to double-check a few things. Thought I saw something but it was probably my imagination. Let’s get out of here.”

She studies me, uncertainty lining her features. But after a moment, she nods, and we drive off, the streetlights flashing over us in a rhythmic pattern. All the while, my mind hums with the note in my pocket. You think he can save you?

We reach my place without incident. The tension in my chest starts to loosen once we’re inside. I flick on the living room light, illuminating the space. Briar sets her purse on the coffee table, her shoulders slumping from exhaustion. She looks so worn down. I want to wrap my arms around her, shield her from all of this. But that’s not exactly in the standard job description, is it?

Yet this is more than a job now. I can’t keep lying to myself about it. Ever since the first time I saw her, something has twisted inside me—a fierce need to protect, yes, but also the recognition that I like her, a lot more than I should.

“Jeb put to bed,” Jeb screeches from his cage. “Jeb neeeeeds sleep.”

Briar, ever so patiently, heads off toward the bird’s cage to deal with him. She takes him out of the cage for a few minutes and then takes him back to her room to put him to sleep.

“How about some tea?” I offer once she’s back, trying to ease her into a calmer headspace.

She nods absently, following me into the kitchen. “Yeah. Tea. That’d be nice.”

As I fill the kettle, she leans against the counter, arms crossed. “What did you see out there, really?” She doesn’t even look at me, just at the floor. “You keep getting that look. The one that says you’re worried.”

I hesitate, feeling the weight of the note in my pocket. I should tell her. But her voice is already trembling with the question, and she’s had enough fear for one night. “Probably just a trick of the light,” I say carefully, turning to meet her gaze. “But I checked it out anyway. We’re safe here, Briar.”

Her lips part, and for a moment, she looks like she wants to argue. Then she exhales, dropping her gaze. “Okay,” she says softly, though her eyes remain clouded with doubt.

I power through the moment, busying myself with the kettle. The stove’s blue flame flickers, casting faint shadows on the walls. Briar hovers by the fridge, hand resting lightly on the handle. She doesn’t open it, though, just stands there, lost in thought. The silence weighs heavy. So much has happened in the span of just a couple hours—fear, memories, that note I haven’t shown her. And the adrenaline from it all swirls inside me, mixing with something else. Something that stirs whenever I look at her.

I shut the stove off once the kettle whistles and pour steaming water into two mugs, dropping in tea bags. When I turn, she’s watching me with an expression that’s equal parts confusion and longing. My heart speeds up as I cross the few steps between us. “Here,” I say, handing her a mug.

“Thanks,” she whispers, the ceramic warm in her hands. She takes a tentative sip, her eyes drifting shut at the heat. “I’m sorry for being so jumpy. I know this is your job, and I keep—”

“Hey,” I interject, setting my own mug aside. My free hand lifts to brush a stray hair from her forehead. “You don’t need to apologize for being scared. You’ve been through a lot.”

She glances up at me. For a moment, I see the vulnerability in her eyes, that raw place where Jason’s caused so much pain. The protective part of me roars to the surface, wanting to fix it all. But there’s also an undeniable attraction pulling me in, a gravitational force I can’t deny. And judging by the way she’s looking at me, she feels it too.

I can’t help myself. I lean in, letting my forehead touch hers lightly. Her breath hitches, and I feel the warmth of it against my lips. “We’ll figure this out,” I murmur. “One step at a time.”

Her mug trembles slightly in her grasp. She sets it on the counter with a soft clink of ceramic against stone. “I know,” she manages, voice low. Then she closes the distance between us, standing on her tiptoes. Her lips brush mine, gentle at first—like she’s testing the waters.

Heat flares in my chest. Cupping the back of her neck, I let the kiss deepen, the taste of mint tea mingling with a sweetness that is entirely Briar. She sighs into my mouth, and I feel her body relax against me, like she’s letting go of the tension that’s been piling up for days, maybe weeks.

I press her back against the counter, my hand braced on the surface beside her. She grips the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer, and a jolt of electricity courses through me. There’s something raw and urgent in the way she clings to me, as if needing this contact to prove she’s alive and safe.

Her fingers slide up to my shoulders, then curl around the back of my neck, drawing me down. A low sound escapes my throat—a mix of hunger and relief. With every brush of our lips, every shift of our bodies, the tension between us swells, and I’m finding it harder and harder to hold back. Her breathy little gasps spur me on, and I move my hand to her waist, anchoring her against me.

Time blurs. The worries of the night—the suspicious figure, that damned note—fade to the outer limit. Right now, the only thing that exists is her warmth, her scent, the flutter of her pulse beneath my fingertips. She arches into me, and I thread my fingers into her hair, reveling in the softness.

“Orion,” she murmurs, my name catching in her throat. It’s a plea and a question all at once.

I break the kiss, just enough to catch my breath. My forehead dips to hers, my own breathing ragged. In the silence, I can hear the steady tick of the kitchen clock, the hum of the fridge. “Is this okay?” I ask, my voice thick, my thumb gently stroking the curve of her jaw.

Her eyes flick open, darkened with emotion I can’t quite name. Fear is still there, but so is need, and something that feels a lot like trust. She nods, swallowing hard. “Yes,” she whispers. “I want this.”

A surge of relief and desire courses through me, and I capture her lips again, this time more insistent. She responds with equal fervor, her hands sliding under my jacket, pressing against my shoulder blades. I feel the steady pound of her heart through the thin layers of clothing between us.

I lift her onto the counter, and she lets out a little gasp, her legs instinctively wrapping around my waist. The position sends a flare of heat right to my core, and I tighten my grip on her hips. She clings to me, her mouth parting, inviting me in deeper.

It’s a rush—an intoxicating blend of passion and the unspoken promise of safety. Each soft moan from her lips, each little whisper of my name, urges me forward, and I’m consumed by the need to protect her, to shelter her from everything that threatens her. But I also want to claim this moment, to indulge in the spark that’s been growing between us from the start.

Her fingers twine in my hair, drawing a low groan from my chest. My own hands roam her sides, feeling the warmth of her body through her dress. Every point of contact feels supercharged, and we lose ourselves in the press of lips and the glide of hands.

Eventually, we pull apart, panting. Our foreheads rest against each other again, and I can’t help the grin that tugs at my lips. She mirrors it, though her cheeks are flushed. The tension in her eyes is gone, replaced by something softer, something hopeful.

“Wow,” she whispers, laughing a little at how breathless she sounds.

I slide a hand up to gently cup her cheek, brushing my thumb across her flushed skin. “You okay?” I ask. It’s become my standard question these days, but in this moment, it carries a deeper meaning.

She nods, leaning into my touch. “Better than okay.”

For a few heartbeats, we stay like that, just breathing each other in, letting the kitchen’s quiet hold us. A pang of reality creeps back in. Jason. The note. But I swallow it down, not wanting to ruin this fragile moment of peace.

I cradle her face with both hands, my voice gentle. “We’ll deal with everything else tomorrow, all right?”

She tilts her head, her eyes drifting to my lips before returning to meet my gaze. “Yeah. Tomorrow.” A flicker of shadows crosses her features, as if she senses I’m keeping something from her. But instead of pushing, she lets it go, and I silently thank her for that mercy.

I lower her from the counter, holding her steady until she’s on her feet. The air between us is still charged, every nerve ending in my body vibrating with the memory of her touch.

“Stay here,” I tell her, removing the gun from its holster so I can lock it away. I remove my jacket before returning to Briar in the kitchen.

I scoop her into my arms, carrying her to my bedroom at the end of the hallway. Tomorrow we can worry about everything. But for tonight… she’s all mine .

The way Briar’s staring at me should be illegal. It’s pure sin and frustration. I don’t even think about it as I scoop her into my arms.

A roar erupts from my throat. “I can’t stop thinking about being inside you,” I groan out.

I set her down, her feet landing firmly on the hardwood.

She blinks up at me. “Wait.”

I halt, my eyes meeting hers. “What’s wrong?” My heart’s pounding inside my chest, hoping she doesn’t put a stop to this whole damn thing.

“Do you do this often?”

“Do what? Sex?”

She nibbles on her bottom lip. “Yes, with all the women you protect. Is this what you do?”

I step back, my eyes locking with hers as I tell her, “No. I never cross this line. You ask me if I have sex often, and the simple answer is yes… a lot. But I haven’t in a while, because no woman’s held my interest in a long time, but you… I’m so damn interested. And I’ve never crossed this line. Fuck, I shouldn’t even be crossing this line now, but I can’t not kiss you again.” I lean in, capturing her lips with mine. Our kiss is explosive at first, and my hands trace over the soft skin of her face. I inch closer, her eager body pushing against mine.

A soft moan escapes her lips, and I swallow it down, claiming it. Claiming her.

My body grows needy, wanting more of this soft woman and her feminine curves. She drives me insane. Makes me go primal with one flick of her eyes at me.

“More,” she whispers against my skin and I roam my hands over her hips, tugging her body closer to mine. The feel of her against me makes me see stars.

I want this woman in the worst way.

Together we move in tandem to the bed, falling together, our limbs tangling together as I deepen the kiss.

I press my hard dick into her center, upset that we’re still wearing way too many damn clothes. “Off,” I tell her, tugging at the hem of her dress.

She lifts a little and I help her get the dress off, flinging it onto the other side of the room. I toss off my shirt as well, adding it to the pile.

“Wow,” she whispers as her eyes take me in. “I’ve never seen so many muscles up close. And your tattoos.” She traces her fingers over the intricate tribal design on my left pec. She pushes up further, her mouth connecting to the skin and I suck in a deep breath of air.

“Your lips on me feel so damn good,” I hiss out.

She blinks up at me. “You’re so gorgeous,” she whispers, and I plunge my hand into her hair, fixing her gaze up to meet mine.

“No, you’re gorgeous. You’re fucking beautiful. Fuck, you look so good in my bed. Like you belong here.” I tug her hair slightly, pulling her closer toward me so I can kiss her again.

My heart ramps up as I push my tongue past her lips and into her mouth. This woman is everything.

She’s ripe for me, and I lay her back, her legs opening for me as I do.

I settle above her, in between her legs as she closes her eyes. “No ma’am. Open your eyes. Watch me eat this perfect pussy.” I hook my thumbs into the sides of her panties and drag them down her legs.

“Oh, Orion,” she moans out as I run my tongue over the silky skin of her inner thigh.

With her pussy wet, her nipples incredibly hard, and her breathing labored, I gaze at her. Studying her. Memorizing every single rise and fall of her chest.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” I tell her. “Now spread these legs for me.” I push her thighs apart further, getting my fill of her pussy on display for only me. I swipe my tongue through her wetness, her taste turning parts of me primal with need. “Fuck,” I whisper across her heated skin.

She leans her head back, her fingers flying through my hair. “I’ve never…”

I pop my head up, stopping everything. “Never what? Are you a virgin?” I hold my breath for her answer.

“No, I’m not a virgin, but…” Her gaze meets mine, her green eyes shining bright. “I’ve never had anyone do this before.”

Pride fills my chest at being the first man to eat this pussy out. “You’ve never had anyone lick your pussy before?”

She turns her head from side to side, slowly. “No, I’ve never had this done before. It’s… really nice.”

I chuckle, my chest rumbling with the sound. “Nice?”

She nods, her eyes searching mine. “Yeah.”

“Nice?” I question again, my hands poised on either side of her inner thighs. “Honey, I can tell you one thing…when I’m through with you you’ll be using all kinds of adjectives to describe the fucking I’m about to give you… and nice won’t be one of them. Nice is a grandmother baking you cookies after school. Nice is a stroll in the park. This won’t be a stroll in the park.” My chest catches fire with desire as I gaze into her eyes.

“Oh,” her mouth falls open, “you’re turning me on.”

“Woman, you ain’t seen nothing yet.” I push her thighs further apart and drag my tongue along the length of her pussy. I settle on the bundle of nerves, sucking her clit between my teeth as she nearly bucks off the bed.

I try to remember my fucking name as I continue eating her pussy, my mind hyperfocused on her every single move. Her every fucking breath.

I increase the pressure, my tongue lapping at her wetness. With her taste on my tongue, I issue a command.

“Watch me eat this pussy out. Eyes on me, sweetheart.”

The noises she’s making feed my hunger, driving me even more insane as I drag a finger through her sweet cunt. I push the finger deeper, her pussy tightening around me as her body shakes uncontrollably. I close my eyes, savoring her.

My heartbeat drums in my ears, a riot of passion explodes in my chest as I continue pumping my finger in and out of her cunt. I push another finger inside her, and she tightens her grip on my hair.

“Oh, Orion. Oh my god,” she calls out, and I suck her clit into my mouth, flicking the nub with my tongue.

“Fuck, Briar, the way you’re looking at me has me all kinds of fucked up.” And it’s true. I’m fucked.

I know I’m fucked.

This woman owns me, and I haven’t even gotten my dick wet yet. And already she fucking owns me.

She shifts her hips and Christ , her pussy clamps down around my fingers.

My dick’s as hard as steel as I think about fucking her. How I’ve thought about fucking her since I first saw her. There’s a fire in her eyes as she watches me finger fuck her tight little cunt.

“You like this, huh?” I push a third finger into her, merely getting her ready for the size of my dick. It’s not me being cocky. I know it’s big. I know women usually shy away from the mere girth of it, but I want Briar to enjoy herself.

I want her ready.

And her pussy’s fucking tight. Too tight.

She tenses slightly when I push in the third finger, and I spread her legs further apart.

“This is nothing,” I tell her, glancing down at her sweet body. “Just wait until you’ve got my thick cock filling you up.”

“Ah, Orion.” Her hot little body rides my fingers, her breathing nearly out of control. “I’m so close.”

Her sounds are like music to my ears as I watch her take what she wants. I use the pad of my tongue against her clit, letting her ride my face as her body unravels. She spasms. She goes wild. My fingers keep fucking, and my chest is on fire with need.

I need to fuck her.

Briar’s grip on my hair tightens as the first wave of her orgasm washes over her. “Oh, Orion,” she calls out. “Wow, Orion.”

When the last of her orgasm tremors through her body, I lift up, unbuttoning my jeans. I kick my jeans and boxer-briefs off my body, fisting my dick in my hands.

“The taste of your cunt has me rock- fucking -hard.”

She glances down at my dick in my hand and sucks in an audible breath. The look on her face has me smiling, pulling me in deeper.

Fuck this woman is gonna be the death of me.