In Flames - Elise Faber Page 0,1

that itch—”

She lifted her chin. “Go to he—”

He kissed her.

Two

Graham

He shouldn’t be here.

And he really fucking shouldn’t be doing this.

This being his mouth pressed to Suz’s lush lips, his hands on her hips, pulling her flush against him.

She was a baby.

She was friends with his younger sister, for God’s sake.

He was one hundred and twelve years older than her, and while their long lifespans meant that the Rengalla didn’t often worry about age gaps, a century more of experience was . . . well, an entire lifetime.

Plus, she was friends with his sister.

Who was young and innocent and . . . young.

Suz was too young.

For him to have his hands on her. His lips pressed to hers. His tongue inside her mouth.

Shame whipped through him, slicing his insides to ribbons, and he dropped his hands, started to lift his head.

Then she moaned.

A soft, rasping noise that emerged from her throat, vibrated against his lips, licked down his skin like flames. And instead of letting her go, instead of moving to the door and getting back on with his day, he wrapped his arms tighter around her and . . . kissed her like his magic was fading and this was his last day on Earth.

And she responded.

Oh, how she responded—melting against him, her lush breasts flush against his chest, her fingers wrapping tight in his hair, her tongue dancing against his as she kissed him back until his head spun. Her hands slipped under the hem of his T-shirt, trailed across his abdomen, dipped under the waistband of his jeans.

Fuck, that was good.

Fuck, that was really good.

Fuck, that was good enough to make him forget all about the age difference and to let his fingers do some slipping and sliding of their own.

He released her lips to allow them both to suck in some much-needed air then began kissing his way along her jaw, down her throat.

Citrus and cloves, tart and spice. The scent that was so intrinsically Suz filled his senses. That perfume was imprinted into her skin, floated like a cloud around her hair, made him feel like she was surrounding every inch of him. And being this close to her, closer than he’d ever allowed himself before—or realistically, he hadn’t allowed himself to be this close since the moment his body had recognized hers as an adult—was both the greatest pleasure and absolute torture.

She was a woman.

A woman he wanted.

When she’d gone away to college, she’d still been a girl, bright and innocent and all lanky limbs and freckle-covered nose. She’d gotten her degree then had gone to medical school, completed her residency, when it was safer, when their enemy hadn’t been so good at hunting them.

God, he could still remember the day she’d left. He’d been on a normal patrol, had watched her from the trees surrounding the Colony, entranced by the way she’d hugged her family and friends goodbye, so much care in each of the embraces. She’d waved off help as she’d loaded a couple of suitcases in the back of her VW Bug, her hair long and straight, tie-dye and bell-bottoms covering her lanky frame. Then with a wave, she’d gotten in the car and driven off, excitement on her face.

She’d left a sweet, youthful girl looking forward to the future.

Then she’d come back, almost a decade later, a woman—the real world written on the lines of her face, the shadows in her eyes. Maturity that comes from experience and yet still that wealth of compassion beneath.

He’d arrested, completely frozen in place when he’d first laid eyes on her upon her return.

He could remember that moment with crystal clarity, too.

An arm around his sister’s waist, curves filling out tight jeans, breasts pushing out the cotton of her T-shirt. Simple clothes, and yet, the sexiest outfit he’d ever laid eyes on. Every instinct in his body had screamed at him to close the distance between them, to stake a claim right then and there.

She wasn’t so innocent.

But . . . she was still young. Still his sister’s friend.

And still too many years, too many experiences between them. She needed someone her age, someone without his baggage.

But when her eyes had met his, wide and warm, her lips curved into a tempting smile, he’d nearly forgotten about all of his reasons to stay away.

Which was the moment he’d realized he needed to withdraw.

A tactical retreat in order to keep his distance.

Except . . . he wasn’t keeping his distance tonight. He was really fucking close,