Page 12 of The Darkest Chase

I snatch it up, pull the cap off, and hold it to her lips, fitting it carefully so her soft red mouth wraps around it.

One pump.

Give her a second.

Then another.

My brain whips back to first responder training. Okay, I need to keep calm for her own sake through the adrenaline spike.

My focus narrows to her, and only her.

Tracking her breathing.

The jitter of her eyes.

Watching as she sucks in a deeper breath, then another, her eyes widening, her head tossed back.

Fuck me, I don’t think this inhaler is working fast enough.

I also don’t have time to wait around for dispatch to send EMTs, even if there’s one on the way by now from someone calling it in.

Not when she’s struggling and turning redder by the second.

There’s no hesitation.

“Sorry, lady,” I whisper, right before I bend over and fit my mouth to hers.

She goes stiff.

Her hands come up, clutching at my shoulders almost comically.

I know what this looks like.

What it feels like.

But when I gently pinch her nostrils shut, she gets the message.

I only leave a single airway for us to manage.

She relaxes slowly as I exhale into her mouth.

Normally, we use CPR for someone who’s unconscious, but right now, what she needs is to get her breathing under control until the inhaler works.

Breathe with me, woman, I’m beaming into her with my lips.

Fucking breathe!

One breath at a time, I take control of her.

In, out. In, out!

Our mouths fuse together so perfectly there’s not a single molecule of air lost between us, the heat and friction building with each wet slide like a kiss.

Her lips taste like citrus, sweet and tart.

With every passing second, we slowly taste the same.

Every time I exhale, I force another breath down her throat. We separate for just a minute, our lips parting with a damp sound before I seal them together again.