In Flames - Elise Faber Page 0,24

others to be happy and fulfilled. She just didn’t get what that had to do with the bond. “I . . . don’t understand,” she whispered.

He laughed. “It’s okay. Just know that, yes, I want to kiss and stroke and lick every inch of that sexy body of yours, but I also want you to be happy deep inside.” Those chocolate eyes held his. “Because I don’t think you’ve been happy deep inside, have you, Firefly?”

Suz glanced up at the sky, studied the blinking twinkles of the stars. “Tell me why you call me that.”

“Avoiding my question?”

“Only so much as you’ve been avoiding mine.”

He laughed, drawing a giggle out of her. “Okay,” he said once they’d quieted. “We’ll leave the questions.”

A beat.

“For now,” she said ominously.

He snorted then agreed, “For now.”

“Muhaha.”

“Come here.”

She frowned, glanced over—or rather up at him. “I am here.”

“Come closer.”

“How?” she huffed. “I’m practically in your lap, Graham.”

Hands on her hips, scooping her up, and plunking her down into his lap. “That’s how,” he said, and she knew he was smirking, even though he’d set her back against his chest and wrapped his arms around her so she couldn’t escape.

Or maybe because he just wanted to hold her.

Because Suz couldn’t deny it felt nice to be in the circle of his embrace, to feel his heat, smell his scent . . . sense the contentment through the bond.

Not hers, though she certainly was enjoying it.

Still, that contentment she felt was his, shining down like sunshine upon her skin, as though she had tilted her face up to the sky and was feeling the warm rays on her cheeks, her brow.

It was settled and comfortable and nice.

God, it had been so long since she’d just sat somewhere quietly, let alone with another person, a man, and one who was holding her so carefully, so gently—

Because of the bond, not necessarily that he wanted to spend time with her.

She released a short little breath. How could she forget the bond? It had to be helping with the intimacy, especially paired with the fact that she’d wanted him forever, but normally she wouldn’t ever be able to relax with a man and not try to fill the silence.

But with Graham, she could sit here quietly and just be and enjoy the feel of his arms and—

“Shh,” he whispered.

Her brows drew together. “I am being quiet.”

His finger tapped lightly against her temple. “Not in here.”

She sighed. “I can’t just shut my brain off.”

“Why not?”

Another sigh. “Because it’s not that easy.”

“Yes, it is.”

She huffed. Again. What was it about this man that had her reduced to a sighing teenager? “You’re just trying to piss me off.”

“Maybe.”

“You’re a terror.”

“Also, maybe.”

“You—”

“But I’m also the terror who has the ability to make you turn off your brain.”

“How—oh!”

He flipped her in his lap, spinning her so she straddled his waist, and then even as her surprised gasp passed her lips, his mouth was on hers.

And God, that was good.

The man radiated heat, and it was just chilly enough beneath the lightening sky that the warmth was welcome. Add in how his arm snaked around her waist, the gentle way his palm cupped her cheek, and she was lost. Though . . . her mind did quiet. Thoughts flew away as sensation took their place.

The sleek dart of his tongue.

The roughened pads of his fingers.

His chest, his legs, his—

Oh.

Now that was nice, she thought, winding her arms around his shoulders and settling deeper onto the hardened length of his erection. It would be even nicer if they were both naked, of course, especially since she now had personally experienced all that glorious hardness.

She especially liked it when he’d gripped her hips, tugged her forward on the edge of the desk, and plunged deep inside.

Graham pulled back, hot breath on her skin. “What did you just think?”

Her cheeks went hot, even as she pretended not to know what he was talking about. “Wh-what?”

A thumb brushing along her bottom lip, but he must have sensed she was lying through the bond—which was incredibly inconvenient—because he smirked, and she felt satisfaction trickle from his mind to hers.

“Was it something like this?” he murmured, tugging her closer as he kissed his way along her jaw.

“It was—ah—” Her breath caught as he positioned their hips, grinding against her.

That was glorious. Even through the layers of clothes.

But she wasn’t going to admit it. Not even under pain of death.

“Not,” she finished, even as pleasure slid over her skin, firing her nerves, making her