Page 156 of Knot Baked Out For This
And then, because karma is real and I’ve never once made it through a sex scene without something truly idiotic happening, disaster strikes.
He’s got me hoisted up, mid-air, legs wrapped around his waist, and cock absolutely ready to batter my insides, when my heel snags on a loose board at the edge of the overlook.
I yelp, flailing for a second, and we both teeter precariously.
Luca's eyes widen comically, and he stumbles back a step, still holding me, but his foot slips on a patch of dew-slick grass. We go down in a tangle of limbs and laughter, him twisting to take the fall, me landing atop him with an "Oof!" that echoes off the rocks.
"Oh my god, are you okay?" I gasp, half-laughing, half-mortified, as I push up on his chest. The grass is cool and damp beneath us, tickling my bare legs, and Storm whinnies from nearby as if judging our spectacle.
Luca bursts out laughing, the sound rare and beautiful from him, his body shaking under mine.
"I'm fine, but damn, Hazel—your heels are weapons." He rubs his side dramatically. "Did you plan that to take me out?"
"Me? You're the one who decided to play Alpha acrobat on a slippery mountain!" I swat his chest playfully, but I'm giggling too, the absurdity breaking through the heat. "We could have rolled right off the cliff!"
"Would've been one hell of a story," he says, still chuckling, pulling me down for a kiss that's more affection than fire now. "Worth it, though. You're worth every clumsy tumble."
We lie there for a moment, catching our breath amid the bickering, the sunrise warming our skin. His hands stroke my back lazily, tracing the curves I've finally embraced, and I feel seen—truly, deeply attractive in his eyes, not despite my body but because of it.
"You know," I tease, propping my chin on his chest, "for someone so calculated, that was pretty impulsive."
"Says the woman who suggested public friskiness," he retorts, tweaking my nose.
We laugh, the relief palpable, just like the weight lifted off her shoulders.
It was the first time she truly felt free…and unafraid.
That she had control of her life and could finally dive into being an Omega to her pack that loves her effortlessly.
CHAPTER 29
Hickeys And Self-Defense
~HAZEL~
The fire station gym at 2 PM on a Wednesday is apparently where dignity goes to die and thirst becomes a spectator sport.
I'm wearing actual gym clothes for the first time in years—fitted leggings that show every curve I've been hiding, a sports bra that makes me have actual cleavage, and a tank top that rides up when I move. Reverie insisted, claiming "baggy clothes are dangerous for self-defense," which is definitely a lie but I let her win because the burning ceremony with Luca this morning left me feeling brave.
Or stupid. The jury's still out.
"Holy mother of abs," Mila breathes, face pressed against the window that overlooks the training area. "Is that legal? Can muscles be illegal? Should we call someone?"
"Who would we call?" Rosemarie asks, joining her at the window. "The police? They're already here. Shirtless. Doing pull-ups."
"God is testing me," Mila mutters. "And I'm failing spectacularly."
I try not to look, I really do, but Reverie grabs my arm and drags me over. "You need to see this. For science."
The training area is full of firefighters doing their monthly fitness tests, and apparently shirts were deemed optional. There's Fischer doing push-ups like gravity is a suggestion. Jenkins running an obstacle course with his shirt tucked into his waistband. And?—
"Is that Theo doing one-handed pull-ups?" Reverie squeaks. "While READING?"
"He's studying for his EMT recertification," I explain weakly. "Multitasking."
"I want to multitask with him," Mila sighs dreamily. "I want to be a task."
"Down, girl," Rosemarie laughs. "You're drooling on the window."
