Page 27 of One Night Flame

Her hips shifted against me, that loose tee brushing her bare thighs as I stepped in, pressing her back just enough to feel the sweet curve of her against me. She was warm and pliant and so damn eager it made my pulse stumble.

I caught her bottom lip between my teeth, tugged just enough to earn that little breathy sound she made when she forgot to be nervous. Her legs parted slightly, inviting, and I took that invitation, lifting her onto the edge of the counter in one fluid move. She gasped, then wrapped her legs around my waist like her body knew exactly where this was going.

We were there. Already spiraling.

One of my hands slid beneath her shirt, fingers tracing up her side to the soft weight of her breast. No bra. Good morning to me.

She arched into me, kissed me deeper. My other hand gripped her thigh, thumb brushing the inside, finding skin that made her tremble.

This was it. No hesitation. No rules. Just fire, and I couldn’t wait to dive in.

Until my damn phone buzzed in the back pocket of my jeans, cutting through the heat like a cold slap.

I groaned, forehead dropping briefly to her shoulder. “Hang on.”

I fished it out, already knowing it wasn’t going to be good. One glance at the screen confirmed it—a text from the station.

CALL-IN:

Shift short. Need coverage ASAP. You available?

“Shit,” I muttered.

Lucy straightened a little, tension creeping back into her shoulders.

“I’ve got to go in,” I said, already kicking myself for how much I didn’t want to.

She nodded, casual, like it didn’t matter, but her fingers twisted in the hem of her shirt and I knew it did. Knew this morning hadn’t been just nothing for either of us.

I reached for her hand, brushing my thumb across her knuckles. “I want to see you again.”

She blinked, surprised. Then—just for a heartbeat—she hesitated. A pause I might’ve missed if I weren’t watching her that closely. But then she smiled, small and soft. “Okay.”

I exhaled, some knot inside me loosening. “I’ll text you later.”

She nodded again, and I leaned in to press one last kiss to her mouth. Slow. Lingering. Just enough to make her lips part like she wanted more.

God, I wanted more.

But duty called.

I pulled back, grabbed my shirt and boots, and made myself walk to the door—already counting the hours until I could come back.

TEN

LUCY

The house was too quiet.

No cartoons humming in the background, no clatter of cereal bowls, no six-year-old zooming a plastic car under the couch and asking if syrup counted as a vegetable. Just the steady tick of the kitchen clock and the low hum of the dryer in the hall.

I curled my fingers around the warm mug in my hands and leaned against the counter, staring out the window like it might answer the questions I hadn’t even let myself form yet.

Cord had left hours ago—texted me once, a quick, charming “Duty calls. But damn, I wanted to stay.” And still, he lingered. In the twist of my sheets. In the ache low in my belly. In the look he’d given me right before I’d kissed him like I meant it. Like I wanted it.

Because I had.

And I did.

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