In Flames - Elise Faber Page 0,4
head had cleared slightly, enough for him to remember why he’d purposefully kept his distance all these years. He didn’t want her to have regrets in the morning.
Regrets aside from the office supplies.
Her hands slid down his chest. “I’m sure.”
He brushed her hands aside and stripped off his shirt. “Are you sure it’s me you want and not your date?”
Fuck.
Why had he asked that, allowed jealousy to creep back in?
This was a woman he’d spent years not wanting. Except . . . that had been a lie, a ruse, a way to protect her from the mess he was inside.
Pink tinged her cheeks, but she reached for the button of his jeans, flicked it open, and tugged down his zipper. “Maybe I should ask you that question,” she muttered, shoving the material down his thighs. “You’re the one who seems to have made it your job to avoid me, while simultaneously dating every single female except me.”
Not every female.
But also not her.
And for good reason.
Because he’d known he would end up in this very position—hard and aching and ready to fuck her into oblivion.
“I’ve always been convinced you don’t even like me,” she said as he stepped out of his boots. “For all I know, this is sympathy sex or angry, annoyed sex or . . . well, pity sex because poor little Suz is pathetic and lonely and boring—” She stopped, that pink on the tops of her cheekbones turning bright red. “You know what? We shouldn’t do this. I—”
He cupped her jaw, turned her gaze back to his. “This isn’t pity sex or angry sex or even sympathy sex.” A brush of his lips across hers. “I’ve wanted you since you came back to the Colony after medical school.”
Wide eyes on his. “Then why . . .”
That wasn’t a question he wanted to answer. He didn’t want to keep bringing thoughts of his sister into this moment, to bring in the sense of responsibility he felt to protect those around him, to question the morality of this situation and the moral code he lived by.
To not take advantage of those who needed protecting.
And Suz needed protecting.
Suz needed protecting.
Pieces shifted in his mind.
Suz. Needed. Protecting.
She needed someone to make sure she didn’t work too late and too often. She needed someone to remind her to eat, to get some sleep.
She needed . . . him.
She needed him.
“It wasn’t the right time back then,” he murmured, stroking his fingers down her throat, her skin like silk, goose bumps pebbling to life, her body drifting toward his. “So tell me, Firefly, is tonight the right time?”
Brown eyes going wide, her lips parting and tempting him to kiss.
But he had to know.
Did she really want this?
The uncertainty left those chocolate irises, and her hand covered his cheek, tilted his head down until their lips were a hairsbreadth apart. “Tonight is the perfect time.”
His magic—coiled and always at the ready—bucked in the back of his mind, threatened to burst free. That slip of control was unusual. He’d mastered his powers years ago, hadn’t ever really struggled to keep it under check, once he’d been taught how.
“Yeah?” he asked, pushing that slip away, focusing on the sexy woman in front of him.
She grinned. “Yeah. Because I think I like being wild and living on the edge.”
He nipped at her bottom lip. “I thought you said you were boring?”
“I’ve decided that I’m living on the edge . . . of an orgasm, and you’re going help me out.” An innocent look, fluttering lashes, the corners of that sexy mouth tipping up.
“That was a terrible joke,” he murmured, nuzzling her throat. “Even by your standards.”
“Hey! My jokes aren’t—”
“Bad?” He bent and sucked her nipple into his mouth, loving the way she moaned and arched against him. “They’re terrible.” He peeled the lace back, rolled the tight bud between thumb and forefinger. “But I think I can help you out with the orgasm edge thing you’ve got going on.”
A hand reaching down, stroking him. “You promise?”
He bit back a groan, focused on the task at hand. “I got you, Firefly.”
Three
Suz
I got you.
Normally, such a sentiment would make her roll her eyes.
Especially from a pretty boy with golden irises and shining brown hair.
But the man had confidence and swagger and—fine—he kissed like a fucking god.
And . . . she wanted him.
So badly and for so long.
Suz knew this was probably a terrible idea, but he was here. He was looking at her like he actually saw her as