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I gulp slowly, trying to process this revelation that rewrites my entire understanding of our shared past. “So maybe this was a fucking roundabout way of the universe to get anything to happen between us,” she adds, “but I was attracted to the scrawny blond guy back then. I’m also attracted to the muscular, tattooed, chaotic golden retriever in front of me. Although I never put two and two together because time passed since I’d last seen you, you changed your surname, dyed your hair black, and grew well into your body to the point that you’re almost unrecognizable.”

I chuckle, running a hand through my wet hair. “I’ve read too many romance novels to know the blond guy is always the jerk or even if he isn’t, that most readers don’t like blond guys. I didn’t want that to be the first thing people think of me, especially not you.” And I worked on my body so that people stopped bullying me, but I don’t tell her that.

Vivian smiles softly and moves her hand to my cheek. “You looked hot with that dirty blond you originally had, but now... you look like sex on legs,” she says, her eyes dropping to my long legs stretched out in front of us.

“Can’t feel my legs that much after running like crazy after you and then away from the creepy guy in my neon mask, though,” I joke, and her laugh rings out, bright and genuine in the darkness of the forest. “I swear my right thigh is still spasming.”

A comfortable silence falls between us now, a stark contrast to the terror of our escape. I open my arms in invitation, and she raises an eyebrow.

“What?” she asks.

“I want to hug you,” I explain quietly, afraid she’ll reject me.

“There’s quite a gap between your tough, dangerous looks and your teddy bear demeanor,” she observes, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Stop sassing me and give me a hug,” I retort, not bothering to deny her assessment.

She comes closer, tugs at the collar of my shirt, and I engulf her in my arms, pulling her against my chest. She feels so right there, like a puzzle piece I’ve been missing. “This is a hug I’ve been dreaming of giving for twenty years,” I whisper into her ear as my eyes start burning.

She melts into the embrace, her arms wrapping around my torso, and a small, involuntary whimper escapes me. I lean my head against hers, breathing in the scent of her hair—forest and river water and something uniquely Vivian—beyond the sweat, of course.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” I murmur. “I was desperate and had too many fantasies in my mind and—”

“I still won’t forgive you for denying my orgasm back at the riverside,” she interrupts, and she smiles against my neck. “How dare you!”

I chuckle, my hands sliding down to cup her ass, giving it a gentle squeeze. “I’ll reward you,” I promise, leaning in to softly kiss her neck.

Her surprised moan sends electricity down my spine. I adjust our position, guiding her onto my lap until she’s straddling me, facing me. My cock hardens instantly at the contact, and when I pull her closer, the friction draws a groan from deep in my chest.

“You have a voice kink,” I observe, smiling against her ear. “And oh boy, I intend to torment you,” I add, deliberately dropping my voice to a low, gravelly register. “My good—wait—bad girl.”

She both melts against me and slaps my chest playfully at the endearment. I laugh, the sound vibrating between us. Then she rolls her hips against my crotch, the pressure making me tilt my head back against the tree trunk in pleasure, exposing my throat. Her lips find my Adam’s apple, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses to the sensitive skin, and I nearly lose my mind.

She wraps her arms around my neck, smirking down at me. “Looks like the roles have inverted,” she teases.

“I like dominant women,” I admit, my hands settling on her hips. “So go ahead, I’m yours.”

We move together, her hips grinding against mine in a slow, deliberate rhythm that has us both panting. The friction is exquisite torture, and the familiar tightening in my groin happens embarrassingly quickly. When I come in my boxers, I bury my face against her neck, muffling my groan of release against her skin.

“Did you just...?” she asks, pulling back to look at me, a triumphant smirk on her face.

I give her a bashful smile, my cheeks burning. “Shut up.”

She laughs, but the sound trails off as I reach up to caress her cheek with a tenderness that seems to catch her off guard. “Maybe this comes late, but...”

“You actually came fast,” she says, smirking at me.

“Don’t ruin this! We’re having a moment here!” I sigh, trying to calm myself down. Then I hesitate, suddenly nervous. “You’re not... dating anyone, are you?”

The question seems absurd given what we’ve just done, but I need to know. Inside, I’m already planning how to win her over if she says yes, how I’ll do anything to have her.

“No,” she says, and the relief that floods me is almost dizzying. “The asshole I was dating couldn’t deal with an independent woman wanting to focus on her career. Marketing is already fucking stressful and busy as it is, and he had the gall to say I was never giving him attention! What was he? A man or a dog?”

I chuckle at her indignation, then lean in, pressing my lips to hers in a soft, tentative kiss. I pull back slightly, gauging her reaction, and find her pupils blown wide, her breath coming in short gasps that match my own.

I love her. So fucking much. So. Fucking. Much.

My heart is racing; not from fear this time, but from the overwhelming realization that despite everything—the kidnapping, the chase, the masked weirdo—I’m happier in this moment than I’ve been in twenty years. I pull her close again, pressing kisses to her neck, her jaw, before finding her mouth again. This time, our tongues meet, sliding against each other in a slow, sensual dance as I try to pour all my love, all my years of longing, into the kiss.