Fire Peak (Firelight Ridge Book 2) by Jennifer Bernard

Author:Jennifer Bernard [Bernard, Jennifer]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-06-25T00:00:00+00:00

23

Nick hadn’t slept so well in weeks. So much time spent chasing Charlie, and now here she was sound asleep next to him. Not going anywhere. He wanted to stay up to savor that fact—as well as her confession that she was “into him”—but he was just as exhausted as Charlie was.

He surfaced from sleep sometime in the middle of the night—though daylight already shone in slivers past the curtains’ edges. A cold reality set in. Charlie had admitted to being an outlaw. He was a law—well, not exactly a law enforcer. But he was certainly law-enforcement adjacent. Where did that leave him and Charlie? Where did he want it to leave them?

The light filtering through the shades made her skin look luminous. He took his time, feature by feature, cataloging sadness in the corners of her mouth, determination in the set of her jaw, and sheer sass in the tilt of her eyebrows.

“You could say I’m into you, too,” he murmured to her sleeping form. “You could say a lot more than that. But I have no clue what to do about it.”

He reached for his phone to check the time, and saw that a text had come in from Mark Jones.

Glad you reached out. We have some work for C. Can you set up a call?

What the hell did “some work” mean?

Explain, he texted back. But wherever Mark was, he wasn’t in the right time zone for answering. After a few minutes of unsettled waiting, he rolled back to his previous position, only to find that Charlie had filled that space.

“Sorry,” he muttered, worried that he’d nearly crushed her, but she reached for him and shifted her body so her front pressed against him, shoulders to knees, and all the good parts in between.

Instant hard-on. Goddamn. He gritted his teeth, trying to force it down. The woman was injured, after all. She had an arrow wound in her thigh. And he had hot fantasies of her naked body running through his mind.

But she seemed to have forgotten all about her thigh, except to throw it over him and pull his body closer. He was wearing his boxers, but nothing else, and they provided zero cover for his raging erection.

“What are you doing?” he murmured into her neck. The slight taste of salt-sweat against his lips made this even more real.

“What I want. I’m doing what I want.”

“But your stitches…”

“They’re fine. Can’t feel a thing. I’m all hopped up on painkillers, we’re alone in a bed together, what better time?”

She had a point there.

“Besides, there’s this.” She stroked his erection through the fabric of his shorts. “Erections don’t lie.”

He ground his back teeth together to keep ahold of himself—a nearly impossible task, especially when she slid her hand inside his fly and touched his bare flesh.

The job got even harder when he gave in and ran his hands under her shirt, along her side, tracing the long slope of her torso, the dip of her waist, and the rise of her hip.

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