Page 60 of Surge of Fire

Frustration grows inside me. “What we have is… chemical. Biological. Instinctual. We don’t even know each other. This isn’treal.”

“We could get to know each other,” he tells me, his voice softening.

He walks closer, and I leap backward.

“Go take your shower.”

His hesitation is painful, but then his mouth pulls into a thin line, and he marches to the bathroom, slamming the door behind him. Instantly, I walk to the small bed in the room and collapse onto the edge.How the hell am I supposed to handle this?I don’t know Evander. I don’ttrustEvander. We can’t have this powerful, overwhelming connection when Aydan holds my heart.So what the hell do I do?

Sighing, I realize that I only have so long before Evander will be out of the shower, and I have to do everything I can to create some distance between us. The first thing I do is find an oversized men's t-shirt in a dresser and a pair of sweatpants I think I can draw tight enough to fit. I put them on, then hide my cell phone behind a picture on a little table by the bathroom. I don't want him finding my phone and destroying it out of jealousy. I go to the sink and wash out my other clothes, pinning them near the fire to let them dry.

When I’m done, I hit the kitchen. I down one bottle of water and start another before I even look for food. There’s not much, just a bunch of canned food, but I get to work putting a couple cans of chicken noodle soup onto a pot on the stove. I rinse off two bowls and spoons and set them by the cooking soup, then start pacing.

“How the hell am I supposed to resist him?”

A minute later his deep voice rumbles through my mind.“You don’t.”

Damn it.“Get out of my head.”

“Get out ofmyhead.”

“Fine. Asshole.”

I thump my hand down on the table, angry that he’d heard me. It’s bad enough that he can sense how I’m feeling. Does he have to hear my stronger thoughts too? I need a game plan.

My gaze flicks to the tiny bed that we’ll be sharing tonight, and my teeth clench together. Having sex with Evander feelslike cheating on Aydan, but it’s not. Not really. It does, however, complicate everything. I don’t know what the future holds for Evander and I, despite my promise to return to Specter Inc. I mean, I’ve never broken a promise before, but I hadn’t given it sure that I would fulfill it. All I know is that my future involves Aydan and Granger, and getting them to safety. That’s all I can focus on.

Going to the bed, I sit down, glancing at the spot I’d concealed my phone. Evander wouldn’t like me calling the guys, I know that for sure. I also know I’m going to be calling them tonight.

The shower turns off. I stiffen, gaze locked on the door. Time ticks by, and then he emerges. Completely naked. Trickles of water slip down his chest and belly. His cock is huge, hanging between his legs like a third leg. And the marks on his neck? The marks I left? They’re a turn on for reasons I don’t understand.

“Should I stay still, so you can finish staring?”

I leap from the bed, my cheeks hot. “I made some soup.”

Ignoring him, I hurry past him, but he catches my arm and pulls me up against him.

My heart hammers in my chest, and my thoughts go wild. “The shampoo and conditioner were flowery. Pretty strong. Did it help with my scent?”

It wasn’t an invitation. It was nervous mumbling, but he took it as an invitation. Leaning down, he inhales near my neck and responds with a groan. “No. Nope. Oh, fuck.”

Jerking out of his grip, I race to the kitchen, which is not far enough away in the tiny space, and say, “We don’t want to burn it.”

It’s bubbling, ready to be taken off. Lucky for me. I ignore him, pouring the soup into the bowls and setting everything up nicely on the table. It seems to take him a painfully long time before he gets dressed. When he goes to add another log to thefireplace, I chance a glance over and see that he’s wearing gray sweatpants.

Gray sweatpants are supposed to be ugly. They’re supposed to be that thing a guy wears to workout in that you don’t even want to look at. But the guy these pants belonged to was not nearly as big as Evander, and couldn’t have possibly had as big a dick, because the damn thing looks painted on, like he’s smuggling a python in his pants. It's amazing, really, that he doesn't get lightheaded when he gets an erection with the amount of blood it must need.

God help me.

He’s back on his feet. I keep the table between us and sit down, gripping my spoon like it’s a weapon. The way he moves is slow, deliberate, but I try not to watch him as he drags the chair out across from me and sits down to eat.

My gaze moves to his tattooed arms, and I spot the gray dragon. “That’s ironic.”

“What?” he asks.

I point to it. The gray dragon, like all his tattoos, is a piece of art. Whoever did them was skilled. At any other time, I might just admire a man with muscles as big as my head, covered with sexy tattoos, but right now, the presence of the dragon seems like too much of a coincidence to ignore.

He glances down and a little smile plays across his lips. “You know, it is. In the military, my nickname was Gray Dragon, so I got it tattooed on my arm. Now it feels like fate.”

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