Page 18 of Garrett

“Are you complaining?”

I’m already kicking off my boots. “Not even a little bit.”

She curls into me as I slide under the blankets, her cold nose pressing against my neck. “For the record,” she murmurs, “I vote we stick to getting steamy in less literal ways from now on.”

I press a kiss to her forehead, her cheek, finally her lips. “Whatever you want, baby.”

I kiss her slowly at first, needing to feel her alive, warm, here. Her lips are cold, but they soften against mine, parting on a shaky breath.

“You’re freezing,” I murmur, rubbing my hands over her arms, down her back, feeling the way she shudders against me.

“Not for long,” she whispers, her voice a challenge, a promise.

I groan, the sound pulled from somewhere deep in my chest. My hands tighten around her hips, dragging her flush against me. She gasps, but she doesn’t pull away. No, she presses closer,her cold fingers tracing the ridges of my stomach, her touch like fire against my too-hot skin.

Something snaps inside me.

I roll her beneath me in a single movement, the blankets tangling around us. My hands bracket her face, my mouth taking hers in a kiss that’s nothing like the soft, careful ones before. This is raw, claiming, desperate.

Her fingers curl into my hair, nails scraping lightly over my scalp as she arches into me, like she wants to crawl inside my skin, like she needs this as badly as I do.

“You almost died,” I growl against her lips, my hands moving over her body, feeling her, grounding myself in her warmth.

“But I didn’t,” she breathes, eyes locked on mine. “I’m right here.”

Right here. And she’s mine.

I strip the last of the blankets away, pressing my body over hers, letting her feel exactly how much I want her. A shudder racks through her, but this time, it has nothing to do with the cold.

“Garrett,” she gasps as my mouth moves down her neck, my teeth scraping over the delicate skin there. I need to mark her, to brand her, to remind myself that she’s here, alive, mine.

I worship every inch of her, my hands and mouth relentless, my body shaking with the force of everything I feel. Because this isn’t just need. This isn’t just sex.

This is her.

Rachel.

The only woman who’s ever made me feel like this, who’s ever made me want more.

I spread her legs wider, settling between them, my mouth hovering just above where she’s already wet and aching for me. Her breath hitches, fingers twisting in the sheets as I trail slow, teasing kisses up the inside of her thighs.

“Garrett, please,” she whimpers, her hips shifting, desperate for more.

I smirk against her skin. “Patience, baby. I’m going to take my time with you.”

And I do.

I press a soft kiss to her center, then another, inhaling the sweet, intoxicating scent of her. My tongue flicks out, tasting her, and she jerks, a soft gasp spilling from her lips.

I groan, gripping her thighs and spreading her open wider, baring her completely to me. “So perfect,” I rasp before diving in.

She cries out, her back arching as I lick, suck, and tease, my tongue flicking over her sensitive bud before sliding lower, plunging inside her. She’s so wet, so warm, and the way she responds—grinding against my mouth, moaning my name—only makes me hungrier.

I suck her clit between my lips, flicking my tongue over it in slow, deliberate circles. Her thighs tremble, her breath coming in ragged pants, her hands flying to my hair, tugging hard as she gets closer.

“Garrett—oh God, I—”

I press two fingers into her, curling them just right, stroking that spot inside her that makes her fall apart.

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