First - Page 26

He comes to when my fingers brush his. His body heaves with a quick, deep inhalation and his face lifts. He blinks a few times, confused. His hair is adorably mussed.

‘Sorry,’ I whisper, wishing I hadn’t pulled him from his rest.

He doesn’t bother to speak. I close my eyes and relax into his kiss, to that deep melding of mouth on mouth. His hand slides down my side, cupping my breast, while his lips move lower to my neck. He mumbles something I don’t catch.

‘What?’

This time it’s audible. ‘Bedroom. Now.’

I don’t know why the question pops into my head, but it’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself. ‘Are you sure you don’t want to talk first?’

He rears back, eyes searching my face. If I weren’t already lying down on the carpet, I’d be doing the same thing. That question should not have been asked. It indicates he means … well, more than what I claim he means to me.

But the words keep coming. ‘I don’t know if I can help, but I know something’s bothering you and I don’t know anything about firefighting, but I’m good at listening so if you need to talk so you feel better I’m more than happy to—’

He makes an angry noise and explodes up from the floor. My shock makes me an easy catch. There’s nothing dignified about the way he hauls me up and flings me over his shoulder or my yelp of surprise when he swats my ass. I flail uselessly against his back, but he ignores me and stalks toward the bedroom.

‘I don’t need to talk about this shit,’ he fumes. ‘There was a fire. A woman died. My head was fucked up. I came here.’

‘Why?’ My question turns into a squeak when I unexpectedly swing back down and find myself tossed unceremoniously onto the bed. He turns on the light and I finally see his expression.

I’m fairly positive I get a third-degree burn from his glare.

‘Does it matter, Maya? I’m here.’ He kicks off his boots, undoes his pants, and stands before me, gloriously naked. The furious rise and fall of his chest ruins the moment though. ‘No complications. That’s what you said.’

His hands band around my ankles and he tugs me down to the edge of the bed. I’m wet for him. His cock is erect, thick, and the sight of it makes my inner muscles tighten from need. He’s right. This is what I want. There’s nothing more I want than to feel him inside me, pounding away all these questions and thoughts and horrible inklings of some deep connection I never asked to find with him.

So why does my chest hurt? My throat?

He’s still talking. ‘Isn’t this what you wanted?’

‘I just …’

He releases my ankles and tilts his head toward the ceiling, pulling himself together. ‘Maya—’

‘I want to know you’re okay.’

The words hang between us. When he finally looks back down toward me, his face is set, carved from that implacable stone I never thought I’d look past. I know the battle going on underneath now.

His body sags with a heavy exhalation, his voice weary. ‘Why?’

‘Because you deserve to have someone care about you.’

He lowers himself to the edge of my bed, sitting with his arms resting on his legs, his head bowed, trying to control his breathing. The phoenix on his back furls and unfurls its wings with the movement. My hand only shakes a little when I reach out to touch him.

He jerks, but doesn’t move away.

‘Jake, are you okay?’

‘No.’ Curt. Raw.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

The phoenix shudders.

‘No.’

‘Why did you come here tonight?’

Tags: M.A. Grant Erotic
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