Page 7 of The Firefighter’s Forever

Her eyes stay on mine, wide and beautiful and wanting enough to break whatever control I have left.

“Harmony,” I say, my voice helplessly rough.

“Yeah?”

I lean in slowly, waiting for her to stop me.

She doesn’t.

Then ten years of waiting finally ends, and my lips meet hers.

3

HARMONY

The moment Lucas’s mouth presses to mine, everything inside me goes quiet except the rush of wanting him closer. He kisses me with one hand cupping the back of my neck and the other at my waist, his fingers spreading there as if he’s trying to remind himself not to take more. I make a small sound against his mouth, and whatever restraint he’s been holding on to slips. He steps into me, backing me against the front door, and the hard strength of him makes my knees go weak.

I forget the porch. I forget that we’re standing outside my parents’ house. I forget every sensible reason this should feel too fast, too sudden, after one dinner and ten years apart. All I know is that Lucas is kissing me, and I’m kissing him back with both hands on his chest, desperate for the solid heat of him beneath my palms.

When he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, and his forehead rests against mine. His eyes open slowly, dark and focused in a way that sends a shiver through me.

“Harmony,” he says, my name rough in his throat.

I swallow, dizzy from the kiss and from the man in front of me. Somewhere between dinner and this porch, the boy I used to know has slipped completely out of reach. I can remember him, but I can’t see him right now. Right now all I see is huge shoulders, a hard jaw, hungry eyes, and a man who’s looking at me as if he’s been waiting longer than he wants to admit.

“Do you want to come in?” I murmur.

His gaze drops to my mouth. “Yes.”

I unlock the front door with hands that aren’t entirely steady and step inside. He follows me in, closing the door behind him with a click that seems to seal us away from the rest of the world.

“My parents are out for the evening,” I say distractedly. “They’re having dinner with friends. They won’t be back for a while.”

Lucas goes still behind me.

I turn. His eyes hold mine, and something raw moves through his expression. “You telling me that because you want me to behave, or because you don’t?”

My stomach flips. “I don’t know.”

“That’s not true.”

I breathe out a nervous laugh. “No. It isn’t.”

He crosses the space between us in three strides. Both of his hands frame my face this time, and the next kiss is deeper, hotter, less careful. I rise onto my toes to meet him, and he makes a rough sound that vibrates through me as his hands slide down my sides, over my waist, to my hips. He grips me there, hard, firmly enough that I know he could move me anywhere he wanted.

The thought makes my whole body go soft.

We stumble down the hallway between kisses, half-laughing and half-moaning each time we collide into the wall. I point toward the guest room, and Lucas walks me backward through the open door, his mouth moving from mine to the side of my throat. My hands shake as I reach for the buttons on his shirt, and he covers them with his own.

“Slow down,” he murmurs.

“I don’t want to.”

His eyes flash. “I know. That’s the problem. I want to savor this.”

I tug my hands free and get the first button open. “Lucas.”

We can both hear the need in my voice. He kisses me again, and there’s nothing careful about the way he backs me to the bed. His shirt comes off first, and I barely have time to process the solid muscle of his chest before his hands are on my top, asking without words. I lift my arms, and he pulls it over my head, his gaze dropping to my bra with such open hunger that I stop feeling self-conscious and start feeling powerful.