"This gun…" she breathed, turning it over, her fingers brushing mine again—deliberately this time. "This is Paul's. The one he dropped when—"
I nodded once—leaning in closer, close enough that I could smell the faint, musky scent of her arousal still lingering from earlier, mixed with the salty tang of her dried tears.
"I found it.... when you were bandaging Paul.." I said.
Mira shook her head—quick, stubborn—but her eyes were dark, pupils dilated, breath coming faster.
"No… You keep it. I've already used your bullets, and—" She trailed off, biting her lip, gaze dropping to my mouth for a second before flicking back up.
I lifted my hand—slowly, gently—and pressed one finger to her lips, silencing her.
She froze—breath hitching audibly, lips soft and warm under my touch. A tiny shiver ran through her, her breasts rising with a deep inhale that pressed them harder against her shirt, nipples peaking visibly.
