Page 164 of Knot Baked Out For This
"Why stop?" she whispers, her lips brushing my ear, sending shivers racing down my spine. Her breath is hot, her body arching just right, and I can feel her slick starting to soak through her leggings, the omega response that's pure instinct, pure us. "We've got the place to ourselves. No one's coming back for hours."
I chuckle, but it's ragged, my hands roaming now, one cupping her ass, the other tangling in her orange-and-black curls.
"You think I haven't fantasized about this? Taking you right here, making you scream my name so loud it echoes off the walls?" The words spill out before I can censor them, my mind flashing to all those late nights at the firehouse, thinking about her bakery just down the street, her scent haunting my dreams. But reality's better—her weight on me, her eyes darkening with desire, the way she bites her lip like she's holding back a moan.
"Then do it," she challenges, grinding down harder, her hips circling in a way that has me seeing double. "Or are you all talk, Captain?"
That does it. I surge up, flipping our positions in one smooth motion, careful not to hurt her but firm enough to show I'm done playing. She lands on her back with a surprised yelp that turns into laughter, her legs wrapping around my waist instinctively. "Hey! That's cheating!"
"All's fair in self-defense and seduction," I retort, pinning her wrists above her head with one hand while the other trails down her side, tracing the curve of her hip. She's stunning like this—flushed, breathless, her athletic figure laid out beneath me, every inch screaming power and vulnerability in equal measure. I leanin, nuzzling her neck, breathing in that addictive scent. "You smell like home, Hazel. Like everything I've ever wanted."
She arches up, pressing her body against mine, and whispers, "Then take me home, Rowan. Right here."
Our lips crash together again, the kiss messy and desperate, tongues tangling as I rock against her, feeling her heat through our clothes. My free hand slips under her tank top, palming her breast, thumb circling her nipple until it pebbles under my touch. She moans into my mouth, the sound vibrating through me, and I swear my knot starts swelling already, insistent and demanding. The gym's fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting harsh shadows, but with her, it feels like one of those cozy bonfires at Maddox Ranch—warm, intimate, alive with possibility.
But then—disaster strikes: As I shift my weight to pull her tank top higher, my elbow catches the edge of a nearby dumbbell rack. The whole thing teeters, and before I can react, a five-pound weight tumbles off, which has me grabbing and rolling as if we’re both on fire so fast, we don’t realize we’re five rolls away from the dumbbell until we’re staring back at it in dismay.
"Shit! Are you okay?" I release her wrists immediately, sitting up to check her, my heart pounding not just from arousal now but from worry. The weight's harmless, thankfully missing her, but it feels like I almost crushed her.
She bursts out laughing, clutching her side dramatically.
"Oh my god, Rowan! Did you just try to dumbbell me to death?" Her eyes sparkle with mirth, tears forming at the corners from giggling so hard. "Is this your secret self-defense move? Death by fitness equipment?"
I can't help it—I laugh too, the tension breaking as I rub her side gently.
"Apparently, I'm a hazard. Should've stuck to the mats only." My face heats, embarrassment mixing with relief that she's not hurt.
It's ridiculous, me—the fire captain who handles emergencies daily—knocking over gym equipment like a lovesick teenager. But with her, I feel like that awkward kid again.
She sits up, still chuckling, and pulls me down for a quick kiss.
"You're adorable when you're clumsy. Makes you human."
"Human? I was going for god-like Alpha," I grumble, but I'm smiling, nuzzling her neck again. Her scent calms me, that vanilla-cinnamon comfort chasing away the awkwardness. "Sorry about that. Got carried away."
"Don't be." She runs her fingers through my hair, tugging lightly on the silver streak. "It's kind of hot, actually. Shows how much you want me."
"Want you? Hazel, I've been half-hard since you walked in here sweating and determined." I kiss along her collarbone, careful this time, my hand sliding back under her top. Her skin's soft, warm, and I can feel her pulse racing under my lips. "Seeing you take down Tank earlier? Poetry in motion."
She snorts. "I barely budged him. He's built like a brick wall."
"But you tried. And you learned. That's what matters." Pride swells in my chest, thinking about how far she's come—from the scared Omega who flinched at shadows to this bold woman who's teasing me mercilessly.
Her hands wander down my back, nails scraping lightly, and she whispers, "You're not so bad yourself, Chief. All commanding and protective." She nips at my earlobe, making me groan. "But if you don't touch me properly soon, I might have to flip you again."
"Threat or promise?" I challenge, my voice dropping low as I capture her mouth again.
The kiss deepens, her legs tightening around me, pulling me closer.
I can feel her slick now, the omega response making her leggings damp against my thigh where I press between her legs. My cock aches, desperate for relief, but I force myself to go slow, savoring her— the taste of her lips like fresh-baked cookies, the way her body molds to mine perfectly.
I break the kiss to trail my mouth down her neck, sucking lightly at the spot where Luca marked her earlier. Jealousy flickers, but it's mild— we're a pack, after all. Still, I add my own mark, biting down gently until she whimpers, her fingers digging into my shoulders.
"Mine too," I murmur against her skin.
"Yours," she agrees breathlessly, arching into me. "All of yours."
The words send a possessive thrill through me, my Alpha side purring in satisfaction.
