Firestorm - Ellie Masters Page 0,26
out of breath. Not to mention you were unconscious in your little hidey-hole. How much do you remember from that night?”
More than I should, like how insanely hot my rescuer was.
How my body responded to his touch like a feral house cat in heat and desperate for attention.
How I wanted to climb his towering frame and rub myself up against him.
Then there were his eyes and the way they stole my breath.
Most importantly, and most damaging, was how I didn’t feel guilty about any of it.
“I guess the smoke did a number on my lungs,” I say. “I didn’t realize I was in that much trouble.”
“Smoke and other gases in a fire can be very dangerous, but I’m told you’ll make a full recovery.”
I give a nervous laugh. “Thank goodness for adrenaline, right? It’s amazing what it does for a body.”
I’m not really sure why I say this, except I’m dumbstruck by the man standing before me and I’ll spit anything out to keep from staring at him with my mouth open, drool spilling out, and looking like a damn fool.
“And of course, I have you to thank for my rescue.”
“Well, it’s a part of my job.” His deep tenor vibrates the air and does strange things to my body.
I still can’t believe he’s here. Asher leans against the wall of my hospital room, arms casually crossed over the expanse of his chest, biceps bulging, and that charismatic smirk lifting the corners of his lips.
He came to check on me.
This makes me ridiculously happy.
I feel like giving a little shout, or pump my fist in victory.
When that helicopter took off, I didn’t think I’d ever see him again, but here he is, all six-foot-sexy of his imposing self. I bet he makes girls stupid and their panties drop with one well-placed smile. He definitely has that effect on me.
I’m a little uncomfortable in the thin hospital gown and very aware I’m naked underneath it. My clothes are shoved in a plastic bag and sit in the bottom of the tiny cupboard the staff gave me to store my things. As for the rest of my worldly possessions? They went up in smoke.
I literally am down to only the burnt clothes on my back, or rather, shoved into a plastic bag.
“Does it hurt?” His attention focuses on the bandages covering my forearms, reminding me of the burns. I didn’t make it out of the fire completely unscathed.
“Nothing major.” Bandages cover my arms where the flames licked a little too close. “It’s not as bad as it looks. Second degree burns, but they should heal without scaring.” I point to my ankle. “Even my ankle is getting better.”
I parrot back what my doctors told me. The wound care nurse who came around knows what she’s doing and I trust her knowledge. She said the same thing as the doctors. My injuries aren’t extensive enough to land me in a burn unit, which I’m thankful for. Things could be much worse.
“That’s good to hear.” His attention shifts from my arms back to my face, but not before sweeping across the expanse of my chest. I give a little look down, then hunch my shoulders inward. My nipples stand loud and proud, practically announcing the dirty thoughts swirling in my head.
“I’m hoping they’ll release me soon.” I focus on the mundane. Not that it matters. He knows.
I see it in his eyes.
“What then?” He glances out the window and squints like he doesn’t care about my answer, but the tension thrumming in his body says otherwise. He’s hanging on my every word.
I give a little shrug. “I’m not sure.”
“You’re off the bi-pap, but still on the cannula. You sure they’ll be releasing you soon?” His brows pinch with concern.
My hand lifts to the plastic tubing which wraps around my head and sits along my upper lip. Two tiny prongs fit inside my nostrils. I forgot it was there until he brought it up.
Now, I feel incredibly self-conscious, and it’s not because my nipples are peaked and aroused.
“I must look like such a mess.”
It’s been days since I’ve showered and I’m not winning any beauty pageants in a threadbare hospital gown and bare face. We’re not even going to mention the rat’s nest of my hair.
“A beautiful mess, little backpack.” He gives a shake of his head and kicks off the wall. Two steps bring him close and he sits on the side of the bed near my knees. “Women worry too much about how