Page 32 of Easy, Tiger

"It is. Until recently."

Something sparks in the air between us, electric and inevitable. Halsey unfolds from her spot on the floor, moving closer until she's within arm's reach.

"Nolan."

"I know this is complicated." My hands find her face, thumbs stroking the delicate line of her cheekbones. "I know you came here to disappear, and I'm the last thing you need right now."

"What if you're exactly what I need?"

Her words knock the breath clean out of me. "Halsey⁠—"

"I'm tired of being afraid." Her hands cover mine, nestling them against her face. "Tired of running from everything that might hurt me. You make me want to be brave again."

"You are brave. Braver than you know."

"Then be brave with me."

Bending down, I rest my forehead against hers, breathing in her scent of wildflowers and autumn air. "I have deep feelings for you."

"Good." Her smile lights up the entire workshop. "Because I feel the same way."

Her mouth opens under mine like a secret finally told. Soft at first—tentative brushes of lips that taste like spiced cider and nervous laughter. Then her teeth catch my lower lip, and the world tilts.

"Still think this is complicated?" Her whisper ghosts across my jaw as her fingers twist in my shirt.

"Deliciously." Standing, I yank her up with me, and before she can find her footing, I grab her hand and pull her the six steps to the workbench, setting her down on the edge. She laughs against my mouth, her hands gripping my shoulders. Woodgrain bites into my palms as I brace them on either side of her hips, caging her in. Her flannel parts under my hands, buttons scattering loose across the floor to join the chisels.

She nips my collarbone. "All that talk about protection... ever think I might be the dangerous one?"

A rough, involuntary laugh escapes me when her nails scrape down my chest. "Noticed that, did you?"

Her strap slips off one shoulder, framing freckles that feel like a map of constellations waiting to be explored. When my tongue follows the path, she gasps—a sound that goes straight to my cock.

"Off." She tugs at my belt with artists' fingers, precise and demanding. "All of it."

Her jeans hit the floor alongside her hiking boots. The scar on my shoulder twinges as she runs curious hands over old wounds, but her mouth on my throat drowns the memory of bullets. I lift her back onto the bench, her legs hooking my waist while I kiss down the slope of her breast.

"You're staring." She arches into my mouth.

"Memorizing." My teeth graze her nipple, earning a choked moan. "For later."

"Later's overrated." She yanks my hair, pulling me up for a kiss that steals reason. Her hips roll against mine, and hell, I nearly lose it right there.

Wood creaks as I lay her back against a half-finished headboard propped on the wall. Her curls fan across the sanded wood like spilled ink. "Nolan⁠—"

"Say the word and we stop. Any word, any time." My hand slides up her inner thigh, calluses catching on softer skin.

Her breath stalls. "The only word I want to hear from you right now is 'yes.'"

When my tongue finds her, she bucks so hard I have to pin her hips flat against the bench. She's slick and incredibly warm, salt and heat blooming under my tongue, and the sound that tears out of her throat makes a primal growl vibrate deep in my chest. I take my time, learning the rhythm that makes her fingers dig into my hair versus the one that makes her curse the ceiling, memorizing her like I'd memorize the grain of a good piece of walnut. Her thighs tremble around my ears, her hips rolling to meet every pass of my tongue, and when I finally close my mouth over her and suck, she comes apart with a broken sound that I feel in my own chest.

The bond roars in my blood, but I keep my touch humanly gentle. Even when she comes with a cry that echoes off the rafters, I let her ride it out slow until her legs stop shaking.

She sits up, sweat-damp curls sticking to her neck, and tugs me toward her by the collar. "My turn to make you fall apart."

As she reels me close, my big cat instincts surge. Burying my face in the crook of her neck becomes entirely unavoidable. A deep, primal urge takes over, driving my jawline firmly against the sensitive skin of her throat and the pulse point at her wrist. Halsey sighs at the friction, leaning into the contact.

Her hands fist in my hair, dragging me up from the floor. "Up. Let me have you." Standing, I quickly remove my jeans, and with her perched on the rim of the workbench, her mouth lands exactly level with where she wants it. My cock brushes her lower lip, and damn, her tongue darting out to taste me nearly undoes my resolve.