Page 101 of When We Ignite

He brought it to his lips, and as he set it down, I took it from him, placing it on the table. Then, I turned toward him, grabbed his wrist, and leaned in until his back was pressed against the couch.

Pinning him down, I held his gaze. “Push me off,” I told him.

“I can’t.”

“You won’t. I’ve seen you lift weights, Ethan. You’re strong enough to do it. Even if I’m bigger, you can put up a fight. Now, push me off,” I told him. Still, he hesitated. “I just got off an eight-hour flight. I’ve been drinking most of that time and haven’t slept in what feels like a day and a half. I’m not at the top of my game. Go on.”

Ethan’s face morphed into concern.“Youaretired. Are you sure?—”

“Darling, focus,” I interrupted, chuckling.

“Fine, fine,” he muttered.

He started by pulling his hands back, unsure of himself. I resisted the urge to guide him, waiting for him to figure it out. He glanced at his wrist, then at me, uncertain. I nodded, encouraging him. He took a deep breath and suddenly pushed against me, using his legs for leverage. I resisted, trying to push him back, but he twisted, forcing me to shift my balance.

“Fuck,” he laughed, his breath uneven.

“Come on, give me all you’ve got. I promise you won’t hurt me,” I insisted, smiling at the focused determination that replaced his hesitation.

He pushed harder, putting his weight behind it. Our faces were inches apart as we struggled for control. Then, I saw it—the glint in his eye right before he leaned in and kissed me, catching me off guard. The second I faltered, he pushed hard, toppling me off the couch. I landed on my back with a thud, Ethan tumbling after me, knocking the air from my lungs.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he gasped.

I laughed. “Don’t you have sportsmanship ethics? That was clearly cheating,” I teased.

He chuckled, brushing his hair back. “Technically, you’re cheating. We’re not in the same weight category,” he said, smirking before adding, “or the same age bracket.”

I laughed, grabbing for his wrists again, but he dodged, pressing his forearm against my chest to pin me down.

“Funny,” I muttered, trying to push him back.

Ethan knelt, shifting his weight to keep me in place. His face scrunched in concentration, an attractive mix of determination and amusement as he waited for me to yield. I bent my knees, searching for leverage, but he leaned forward, pressing his weight into my chest.

“Is that enough?” he asked, his breath ragged.

I grabbed his hips, attempting to push him off, but he slid his knees against the carpet, securing his seat. His hand caught my wrist, twisting it gently and pinning it next to my head. His eyes sparkled with victory.

“That depends,” I replied, tugging at my wrist. He leaned more of his weight onto it.

“On what? Are you cheating to get out of this?” His competitiveness shone through the last remnants of his shyness.

“Is this working for you?” I asked, my voice dropping low.

I stopped resisting, letting my body relax. His eyes widened as he looked at me, the realization dawning slowly. His gaze flickered to his arm, still pinning me down, then back to my face.

Ethan nodded, his breath hitching. “Yeah,” he whispered.

“Come closer and kiss me.”

He complied without hesitation, his lips finding mine in a kiss that was neither hesitant nor overeager. It was perfect—bordering on rough, but slow, just the way I liked. When he released my wrist, I reached for his head, tilting it to deepen the kiss further.

This was uncharted territory for both of us. I was holding his hand and teaching him to take what he wanted, to grow into this side of himself and thrive. I didn’t want to tame him, all I wanted was for this fire in him to burn as fiercely as it could, to feed it and nurture it into becoming a force to be reckoned with.

This was him, the real him.

“Hey,” he murmured, pulling back just enough for our breaths to mingle.

“Tell me,” I prompted.