Page 27 of Born in Fire

“Shhh,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She reaches for the button of my jeans, but I gently catch her wrist.

“You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” she insists.

“I know.” I kiss her softly. “But tonight was about you.”

She studies my face, confusion giving way to something like wonder.

“You’re full of surprises, Dorian Craven.”

“So I’ve been told.” I brush my thumb across her cheekbone, marveling at the softness of her skin.

We lie tangled together as her breathing evens out, her body relaxing against mine once more. Contentment washes over me—a feeling that should probably alarm me more than it does. I’ve never felt this… peaceful after intimacy. Usually, I’m already planning my exit, checking messages, mentally moving on to the next conquest or business matter.

But right now, there’s nowhere else I want to be.

As Juno drifts back toward sleep, I make a decision.

“Let’s get you to bed,” I murmur. “More comfortable than this couch.”

She mumbles something unintelligible as I scoop her into my arms, her body warm and pliant against my chest. The trust implicit in her relaxed state does something strange to my insides—a twisting, melting sensation I can’t name.

Her bedroom is visible through a partially open door—a space I’ve deliberately avoided entering until now. It feels like crossing a threshold, not just physically but symbolically. I nudge the door wider with my foot and carry her to the bed, laying her down with more care than I’ve shown anything in recent memory.

She immediately curls on her side, reaching for me even in her half-asleep state. “Don’t go,” she murmurs again.

Every instinct in my body screams to crawl in beside her, to wrap myself around her and guard her sleep until morning. But something stops me—a sense that we’ve already crossed enoughlines for one night. That she might regret this vulnerability in the harsh light of day.

“Sleep well, stargazer,” I whisper, pulling the covers over her.

I retrieve my shirt from the living room and let myself out, locking the door behind me. Dawn is breaking as I step onto the street, the city coming alive around me. I inhale deeply, but all I can smell is her—on my skin, my clothes, lingering on my tongue.

My phone has seventeen missed calls from Caleb. The real world intrudes, demanding attention. But as I walk toward my car, my mind remains in that apartment, with the woman who somehow managed to crack open parts of me I didn’t know existed.

I touch my lips, still tasting her. What the hell is happening to me?

Whatever it is, I’m not sure I want it to stop.

Chapter 9

Juno

I wake up with the sun on my face. For a moment, I lie still, waiting for the usual knot of anxiety to form in my stomach. It doesn’t come.

My hand reaches automatically for my phone to check the time—6:32 a.m. I’ve slept later than usual, yet feel more rested than I have in months. The air still seems to carry Dorian’s scent—sandalwood and something warmer, like embers. I stretch, feeling pleasantly sore in ways that bring heat to my cheeks as memories flood back.

His mouth on mine. His hands exploring with exquisite care. The way he’d focused entirely on my pleasure, refusing to let me please him back. The tenderness with which he’d carried me to bed.

I let him touch me. No…askedhim to. Pleaded with him, if I’m honest with myself. And all after just two dates.

Holy shit.

A year and a half of looking over my shoulder, suspicious of every man I meet, and in just a few days, Dorian Craven has melted every one of my defenses.

I’m halfway to the bathroom before I realize I haven’t performed my usual security check—windows, doors, closets. The routine that’s governed my mornings since leaving Tyler has been forgotten, replaced by… what? Not carelessness. Something else. Something that feels strangely like freedom.

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