After Rebirth, I Became My Ex's Aunt-in-Law

”I love you too,” Aria whispered.

She closed the remaining fraction of an inch between them and kissed him.

It started soft—a desperate press of lips that tasted of unshed tears. But the moment Damien’s mouth parted under hers, the floodgates blew wide open.

The kiss escalated from a sweet reunion into a frantic, ravenous collision. Damien groaned, a raw, guttural sound tearing from the back of his throat. He devoured her mouth, his tongue sweeping past her teeth with a rough, demanding heat.

His hands abandoned the safe boundaries of her waist. He slid his palms up her sides, bunching the hospital gown upward. He bypassed the hem completely, his warm hand sliding directly over her bare ribcage to firmly cup her breast. His thumb flicked over the sensitive peak, finding it already hard.

Aria let out a sharp, breathless moan into his mouth.

She shifted her weight, throwing her arms around his shoulders, and shoved him backward.

Caught off guard by her sudden burst of energy, Damien let himself fall back against the pillows. Aria instantly crawled over him, swinging her leg over his hips to straddle him.

The metal IV pole beside the bed groaned loudly as Aria dragged it an inch across the floor, the clear plastic tubing tethered to her hand pulling taut. The nasal cannula tugged slightly at her cheeks, but she ignored it, settling her weight squarely over his lap.

Damien was flat on his back and trapped directly beneath Aria’s center was the unmistakable, rock-hard ridge of his erection, straining violently against the zipper of his tailored suit pants.

Aria rolled her hips forward, grinding her heat firmly against his aching length.

”Fuck,” Damien swore into her mouth, his entire body going rigid.

Beside them, the steady, rhythmic beep-beep-beep of the heart monitor spiked into a frantic, erratic techno remix of pure lust.

Aria kissed him deeper, moving her hips in a slow, agonizing circle.

Damien’s hands flew to her hips. His long fingers dug into her soft flesh, gripping her like a vice.

With every ounce of his willpower, Damien broke the kiss.

He pulled away, his chest rising and falling in harsh, ragged pants. He held her hips perfectly still, stopping her from grinding against him.

”Aria. Stop,” Damien gasped, his golden eyes wide with need.

Aria blinked, dazed, her lips swollen. ”What? Why?”

”Because,” Damien gritted out. ”You just woke up from a nine-day coma. You need to recover properly. We cannot do this right now.”

Aria pouted.

”I feel fine,” she argued, trying to wiggle her hips against his restrictive grip. ”I’ve been sleeping for over a week, Damien. I’m well-rested. A little rigorous activity is exactly what I need to jumpstart my system.”

”No,” Damien groaned, his knuckles turning white as he fought his own biology.

Aria stopped fighting him. Her pout faded into a small frown. She looked down at herself at the ugly gown, the IV line taped to her bruised hand, the plastic oxygen tubes resting against her face.

For a split second, a flash of genuine insecurity pierced through her.

”Are the tubes a turn-off?” she asked quietly.

Damien stared at her. The idea that she could possibly think he found any part of her unappealing was so absurd that a rich, heavy chuckle bubbled up from his chest.

He sat up, effortlessly bringing her with him so she remained straddling his lap, but now her head was level with his. He wrapped his arms securely around her back, burying his face in the warm crook of her neck.

”Aria,” he murmured against her skin, pressing a soft, lingering kiss just below her jawline. ”I owe those tubes my life. They helped to keep your heart beating. They kept you here with me.”

He pulled back just enough to look into her eyes, his expression softer than she had ever seen it.

”They are the sexiest things I’ve ever seen. But I am still not letting you mount me in the ICU. Be a good patient.”

Before Aria could formulate a retort, the glass door clicked open.

Aria hastily scrambled off his lap, sliding to the empty side of the mattress and yanking the hospital gown down to her knees just as a no-nonsense triage nurse marched into the room, tapping a tablet.

Zoe trailed in right behind her.

The nurse ignored what she could easily tell happened moments prior to her arrival and professionally checked the IV drip, adjusted the pulse oximeter on Aria’s finger, and tapped the screen.

Zoe, however, was not as professional.

Zoe took one look at the heavily rumpled bedsheets. She looked at Damien, whose shirt was mostly unbuttoned, his chest heaving, his hair a mess. Then she looked at Aria, who was flushed a deep, vibrant pink from her chest to her hairline.

’These animals,’ Zoe thought as she aggressively side-eyed the mattress. ’She literally just escaped the grim reaper and they’re playing doctor.’

”Your vitals are remarkably normal, Mrs. Sinclair,” the nurse announced. ”Core temperature is stabilized. We are going to keep you here for a few more days just for observation, but you are officially out of the woods.”

”Thank you,” Damien said, his voice back to its usual, commanding baritone as he stood up and began buttoning his shirt.

The nurse smiled politely and exited the room, leaving the three of them alone.

Aria let out a long, happy sigh, leaning back against the pillows.

She clapped her hands together.

”So,” Aria asked cheerfully. ”What did I miss?”

Zoe’s right eye visibly twitched.

The silence stretched for a moment. And then, Zoe let out a sharp, breathless sound that escalated into a hysterical, manic, Joker-esque laugh.

”What did you miss?” Zoe wheezed, pacing to the foot of the bed, her hands flying into the air. ”Oh, nothing much! Just the complete, total, unadulterated collapse of your image! The internet thinks you jumped off the bridge! Half the world wants Damien arrested, the other half wants him to step on their necks, and Bella is currently milking your near-death experience on a global press tour!”

Aria’s smile vanished instantly. ”What?”

”Welcome back to the waking world, Sleeping Beauty,” Zoe cackled, her eyes wide with sleep deprivation and stress. ”Grab a helmet. We’re in the trenches.”