Chapter 19 #3
He embraces me fully, his arms wrapping around me securely, and we kiss, soft at first, then deeper as I lose myself in the taste of him. When we break apart, he’s studying my face again. “Your scent is becoming stronger. I think we should head home.”
“Not yet,” I insist, even as another wave of heat rolls through me. “Please, I have to make sure—” I groan at the tightness building within me, the ache intensifying. “Just quickly, please.”
He nods reluctantly. “Quickly. Then we’re leaving.”
We hurry down the street toward the staging garages where the parade started, and the fast walk helps distract me from the fire building inside my body.
Atlas emerges from the garage as we arrive, wiping his hands on a rag.
“Hannah,” he greets. “Got some news, and you’re not going to like it.”
My stomach drops. “What did you find?”
“We checked the wiring thoroughly. Some of the internal wires were partially cut—deliberately exposed like someone took wire cutters to them. This wasn’t an equipment failure or faulty installation. This was done on purpose.”
The world tilts slightly. “Like someone sabotaged the float? Intentionally?”
He shrugs, his expression grim. “That cut was clean and on purpose. Not accidental damage.”
“But why would someone—”
He tucks the rag into his belt. “I gotta get back to the station, but I’ll send you my full report within forty-eight hours. You’ll want to file a police report about this.”
“Right. Yes. Thank you, Atlas.”
He nods and heads to his fire truck parked nearby.
I turn to Chris, feeling sick. “Why does it feel like this is somehow aimed at making my parade fail? Do you think Scot might be involved?”
His jaw tightens, lips pressing into a thin line. “I wouldn’t put it past that bastard. But we need proof before we can accuse him of anything. However, I suspect he’s got a hand in this.”
“Maybe I got too distracted. I didn’t make enough effort to ensure this didn’t happen—”
“Stop.” Chris cups my face with both hands, forcing me to meet his eyes.
“Sometimes you can’t prevent things. If someone really wants to do something malicious, it’s nearly impossible to stop them.
Assholes will do whatever they want. All you can do is prepare for it, and you did.
You had firefighters ready. You had protocols in place.
You handled the emergency perfectly. Hannah, I am so fucking proud of you and how today went. ”
But I’m breathing too quickly, dread sitting heavily in my chest because it could have been so much worse.
And my body is officially burning up. Heat is spreading through every nerve ending, and suddenly my panties are gushing with slick, soaking through to my jeans. Oh, hell!
I groan from an impossible ache so deep it feels like I might die if I don’t get relief soon.
Chris catches me as I wobble, his arms steadying me. “Okay, not asking anymore. We’re going. You’re about to go into full heat.”
He has me off my feet in seconds, cradling me against his chest, and he’s barking orders to my team, who are still finishing the cleanup.
“Hannah needs to leave. Medical emergency. She needs a complete list of everyone who had access to the Santa float over the past three days. Get it to her by tomorrow morning.”
My main team leader nods, already pulling out her tablet.
Then we’re moving, Chris carrying me toward where their truck is parked, and I know my team will handle everything. They’ll close everything down properly. I coordinated it all, gave them clear instructions. But I still feel awful for leaving them.
Before I know it, I’m in the truck and we’re driving through backstreets to avoid parade traffic. And I’m moaning, unable to stop myself, leaning toward Chris like I can’t breathe without touching him.
“Sorry that my heat—”
“Don’t ever apologize.” His voice is rough, intense. “You are my world. You are all I care about right now. Everything else can wait.”
My hand trails down to his pants without conscious thought, fumbling with his belt.
“Hannah,” he warns, though his voice is strained. “I have very limited control here.”
“I need you inside me now, or I will pass out,” I beg, pulling at his belt and zipper with desperate fingers. “And you’re driving, so—”
“Fuck, you’re going to kill me.”
He lifts his hips slightly while keeping one hand on the wheel, helping me tug open his pants and pull down his boxers.
His already huge cock bounces free, thick and hard and perfect. My greedy hand curls around him instantly, and he hisses through his teeth. I lean over his lap without thinking, driven purely by raw arousal, and push my lips over his erection.
“Oh, fuck—” The truck swerves as his hand jerks on the wheel.
I pull back slightly. “Get us home safely, please.”
Then I take him deeper, hollowing my cheeks, using my tongue, losing myself in the taste and feel of him.
“Jesus Christ,” he growls, one hand dropping to tangle in my hair while the other white-knuckles the steering wheel. “This might be the most difficult drive of my entire life. If we crash, I’m blaming you and your perfect mouth.”
I would laugh if my mouth weren’t full, so I just take him deeper instead and let the heat consume me.