Page 56 of Embrace Me Forever

He leans closer, the distance between us diminishing with each breath. With deliberate tenderness, his fingers trace the contours of my face. I remember the rough patch on his palm from our first handshake. Now, that very imperfection sweeps over my skin, delivering a paradoxically perfect caress, treating me as something both precious and fragile.

Then he slants his mouth over mine. Our lips meet, a searching kiss, like the first few notes of a long-forgotten melody.

“I want you. You’re not a beast, Blake. You’re just a man with a vast heart,” I murmur as our lips graze one another’s. “And you’re not lost because you’ve found me.”

In a surge of resolve, he rises from his seat, crossing the divide that had separated us. The generous space of our private seating allows him to kneel before me. As he draws closer, thekiss intensifies, his hands weaving through my hair, pulling me into the moment with him. I clasp his strong forearms, driven by a need to absorb some of the silent suffering he has endured. While I cannot undo his past pain, my touch conveys my unwavering support.

He gently presses me back into my seat, his body a comforting presence blanketing mine. As his lips meld more firmly with my own, reality slips away. Words, feelings, strains, desires—they evaporate, replaced by an intense awareness of only him. It’s as if he has pulled me into an altered dimension. I’ve never felt so breathless yet so alive.

“No regrets?” I murmur.

“None whatsoever,” he answers, his statement serious while oozing sexy resonance.

Leaning forward, I capture his lips in a brief kiss intended to affirm the moment and our irreversible course.

As I begin to pull back, Blake’s lips cling to mine, making our parting feel like a slothful, reluctant separation. Then, when I think it’s all done, with a deliberate flick, his tongue grazes my lower lip. A bold yet ephemeral touch. My teeth instinctively catch the spot he just caressed, and his smirk widens. Was he hinting at what he’s willing to offer? Or was it a provocation? His sly grin tells me it’s both.

He composes himself and returns to his seat, leaving me tingling from the kiss.

Clearing his throat, he says, “We still have an hour or so. Feel free to catch some sleep.”

I shoot him a glare, knowing he’s parroting the words I used in our last flight. Right after he’d rebuffed my advance. The irony isn’t lost on me. His earlier insistence on ‘staying professional’ now feels quaint and completely irrelevant.

“Yeah, because nothing says ‘sweet dreams’ like a mind-blowing kiss, right?” I retort, a playful smirk dancing on my lips as I acknowledge the sweet triumph of our interactions.

“You think that was mind-blowing?” he challenges, an impish glint in his eye.

I frown. “What are you suggesting?”

“Wait until Ireallykiss you, Georgia-May!” His words roll out so easily, yet they’re a live wire.

A sudden wave of heat surges through me, pooling in a rather inconvenient location. Oh boy, it must be the hint of that tongue action. Yeah, that’s got to be it! If it weren’t for Captain Wyatt’s impeccably timed announcement about our imminent landing, who knows what sort of lines we’d be crossing right now?

19

BLAKE

Pedro Morales, Hartley Marine’s most seasoned chauffeur, drives us home from the airport. Though we traveled light from Denver, the trunk is generously filled with suitcases and groceries, thoughtful provisions from the Hartleys.

As I swing the door open, Poppy leaps about, emitting her unique, cyborg-like bark. Coco, cradled on Georgia-May’s hip, giggles at the sight, clearly delighted by Poppy’s antics, something she has never witnessed.

“Poppy, down,” I command. The pup settles, her robotic tail wagging energetically.

“That’s Poppy,” Georgia-May introduces as Coco attempts to mimic her.

“Bobby,” Coco babbles initially, still trying to figure out what kind of creature the metallic pet is.

“Poppy,” Georgia-May corrects.

“Puppy!” Coco exclaims with joy, her voice bubbling with laughter. Georgia-May sets her on the ground.

“The canine is kid-friendly, right?” she chaffs.

“Let’s test it, shall we?” I suggest with a side smile.

“Does Poppy have a haptic sensor?”

“Try patting the top of her head,” I instruct, watching closely.

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