EMMA
Ilet him undress me slowly, carefully—the shirt dropped to the floor, my bra unhooked and discarded, my jeans and panties tossed to the side. He takes his time, his hands reverent, like he's unwrapping something precious.
When I'm naked, he gets rid of his clothes and pulls me into his lap, cradling me to him.
"I didn't know if I'd see you tonight," I admit softly, my fingers tracing idle patterns on his chest.
His arms tighten around me. "Why wouldn't you?"
"You never said you wanted me to come over." I hate how small my voice sounds. "I know you were giving me space, but you didn't say you wanted to see me. I don’t know the rules."
He tilts my chin up so I'm looking at him. “Emma, there’s only one rule. That you’re mine.”
“Two rules,” I correct.
“I’m yours too.” His mouth quirks. He grows serious, his eyes locked on mine. "I always want to see you. Every fucking second of every day. I didn’t like when you wanted to leave today. I want you with me, and I don’t want to sleep without you. So we need to figure this out.”
I nod. “I want you with me too, but I can’t just stay in bed with you and ignore the rest of my life.”
“Too bad.” He grins when I smack his chest, taking my hand and holding it against his heart. Then he lowers his mouth to mine in a soft kiss. “You're the only thing that makes sense in my life, Emma."
My throat tightens.
He leans down and kisses my neck. Not claiming, not possessive—just soft. Affectionate.
"Should've said it," he murmurs against my skin. "Should've told you I needed you tonight. Thought you knew."
"I didn't," I whisper, squeezing him to me.
"Now you do." He pulls back to look at me again, his hand cupping my face. "I will always come back to you, Emma. Always."
It's not flowery or poetic. It's just Jake—blunt and honest and completely sincere.
And it's perfect.
I lean forward and kiss him, slow and deep, and he responds immediately, his hands sliding into my hair. This time we make love, me sitting on his lap, my legs around his waist, his forehead resting against mine as he moves—loving me, slow and deliberate and absolutely certain.
"You're mine," he whispers against my mouth, and this time, it's not a command or a claim.
It's a promise.
50
JAKE
Emma's asleep against my chest, her breathing deep and even, her body completely relaxed in the way that only comes after sex with trust. My hand rests on her lower back, and I'm content to just lie here in the darkness, holding her.
Until my phone buzzes.
My eyes snap open. It’s a security alert.
I carefully extract myself from Emma's grip, pulling the blanket up to her chin before I slip out of bed. Avoiding the floorboards that creak, I pick up my phone from my jeans on the floor and move to the window.
217. North perimeter, motion sensor triggered at the tree line.
Fuck.
I pull up the video feed.
