Page 16 of My Savior Valentine

Reid reaches out, tucking a stray lock of hair behind my ear. His touch lingers, sending a rush of desire through me. I tilt my face towards him, my lips parting slightly. He leans in, his breath ghosting over my skin. The kiss is soft, tender, a gentle exploration. But it's not enough. I want more, need more.

My fingers curl into his jacket, pulling him closer. Reid responds, his hand cupping the back of my neck, deepening the kiss. I lose myself in the sensation, the taste of him, the heat building between us. A soft moan escapes me as his tongue brushes against mine, igniting a fire in my veins.

But all too soon, he pulls back, resting his forehead against mine. We're both breathing heavily, our hearts racing in sync. "We should wait," he whispers, his voice rough with desire. "Until you're better, until we're somewhere safe..."

I nod, knowing he's right but hating the distance between us.

I want to straddle him, to feel the hard planes of his body pressed against mine, to grind my hips into his until we're both gasping with need.

Frustration wars with desire as Reid gently pulls me into his arms, mindful of my injury. My lips find his again, and I melt into the kiss, savoring the taste of him, the rasp of his stubble against my skin.

As our tongues tangle, I can't help but imagine what I'd do if I weren't hurt. I'd push him onto his back, trailing kisses down his neck, his chest, lower still. I'd take my time exploring every inch of him, mapping the contours of his muscles with my hands and mouth.

I'd strip him bare, reveling in the sight of his naked body, the evidence of his desire for me. And then I'd sink down onto him,taking him deep inside me, relishing the stretch and fullness. We'd move together, slowly at first, then faster, harder, until we were both trembling on the edge of release.

A soft moan escapes me as Reid's hand slips beneath my jacket, his fingers splaying across the small of my back. The heat of his touch sears through my layers, igniting a fire in my veins. I arch into him, craving more contact, more friction.

But the twinge in my leg brings me back to reality. The pain is like a bucket of ice water, dousing the flames of my arousal. I pull back, resting my forehead against Reid's, our breath mingling in the chilled air.

"What happened to waiting?" I chuckle.

Reid's laugh rumbles through his chest, vibrating against me. "I guess we got a little carried away," he admits, his eyes sparkling with mischief and barely restrained desire.

I grin up at him, tracing his jawline with my fingertips. "Can you blame us? All this life-or-death excitement, the close quarters..."

He leans into my touch, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment. "It's not just that," he murmurs, his voice low and rough. "There's something about you, Willow. Something that makes me feel alive in a way I haven't in a long time."

My heart swells at his words, and a lump forms in my throat. "I feel it too," I whisper, my voice cracking with emotion. “It’s like we were meant to find each other, even in these crazy circumstances."

Reid's arms tighten around me, holding me close. As we hold each other, savoring the intimacy of the moment, a distant thrum catches my attention. At first, I think it's just the pounding of my heart, but as the sound grows louder, I realize it's the steady beat of helicopter blades slicing through the air.

Reid's head snaps up, his eyes wide with relief and disappointment. "They're here," he says roughly.

I nod, my own feelings a tangled mess of gratitude and frustration. I'm desperate to get out of this icy prison, to get my leg properly treated, but I can't help but mourn the loss of this stolen moment with Reid.

As we disentangle ourselves, I can't resist one last kiss. I pour everything I'm feeling into it - the longing, the desire, the promise of what's to come. Reid responds with equal fervor, his hands cupping my face, his tongue delving deep.

We break apart, both breathing hard, our eyes locked on each other. In that moment, I make a silent vow. As soon as I'm healed, as soon as we're back in the real world, I'm going to explore every inch of this man. I'm going to map his body with my hands and mouth, memorize every plane and angle, every scar and tattoo.

I'm going to take my time, savoring each gasp and moan, each shudder of pleasure. And when we finally come together, when he's buried deep inside me, I know it will be worth every second of this agonizing wait.

12

REID

As the sound of the approaching helicopter cuts closer, I spring into action, my mind shifting gears from the intimate moment Willow and I just shared to the rescue I need to complete.

"They're almost here," I say, my voice taking on a business-like tone. "We need to get you ready for transport."

Willow nods, her eyes reflecting a mix of relief and something else I can't quite decipher.

I check her splint one last time, ensuring it's secure. My hands move with practiced efficiency, but I can't ignore the electricity that seems to linger on my skin from our earlier contact. I shake my head, willing myself to concentrate.

I leave Willow in the shelter and set off a series of flares, their bright red light cutting through the swirling snow. Within minutes, the steady thrum of the helicopter blades fills the air, searching for a space to set down. As the chopper lands, kicking up a flurry of white, I feel a mix of relief and something akin to dread settling in my gut.

The rescue team emerges, and I immediately launch into a briefing on Willow's condition, my voice clipped and formal.

"Willow Jones, 24, former Olympic skier," I report to the rescue team, my eyes focused on their leader. "She has a suspected fracture in her right leg. I applied a splint, but she needs medical attention ASAP."

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