Page 35 of Fastlander Phoenix

“Silver, this is Timber. Timber? Silver,” Hallie introduced them.

Other women filed through the door. One was holding the hand of the boy, who was introduced as Ruger. Behind them followed the rest of the Fastlanders. They introduced themselves one by one, and while she was happy to chat and go through introductions, she couldn’t keep her eyes from the hole in the ceiling that exposed the starry night sky. She was worried for Wreck. He’d been through a huge, draining night, and now he was in the air. Alone.

She didn’t think she would ever get used to Wreck being able to control fire, or fly—even if she lived for a hundred years.

When the others left, she didn’t really know what to do. All she knew was that she couldn’t leave until Wreck came back.

She hoped the Fastlanders didn’t mind her camping out in his destroyed house, but she couldn’t leave even if she tried.

His home was plainly decorated. There were no pictures on the walls, or décor. The walls were painted white, and when she drifted into the bedroom and aimed her flashlight at the furniture in there, his sheets and comforter and pillowcases were all white as well.

What made a man want such a sterile environment?

The floors were made of fine wood, and stained a deep chestnut color that was great at bringing out that gorgeous wood grain, but everything else seemed to be as he’d bought it, perhaps.

A wave of power rocked her backward onto her heels, and she barely caught herself on the wall.

“Wreck?” she murmured, heading for the living room. She picked up her pace, and nearly tripped over the couch. She snatched the throw blanket off the back of the couch and aimed for the open doorway.

Others had gone to bed, and the woods had gone quiet. Wreck was on his hands and knees in the yard, covered in dark ashes, and there was a trail of fire leading right to him.

He rocked back on his bent legs and rolled his head back, exposing the Adam’s apple in his muscular throat as he looked at her with fire in his eyes.

Disappointment filled her. He wasn’t happy to see her.

“You still want me to go away.”

He shook his head slowly, and there was this little blossom of hope in her center.

Slowly, carefully, she approached and settled the blanket over his shoulders.

He staggered up to his feet, swayed and steadied out, then stood to his full height as he wrapped the blanket more tightly around himself.

Her eyes went wide as he stood to his full height. He looked bigger. His muscles all looked fuller, larger. His six-pack was more chiseled, and the thin sheen of sweat over his shoulders highlighted the bigger curves there.

He looked like a demigod come to earth.

“Come here,” he said low, just like he had said to her before.

Pursing her lips against a smile, she slowly approached.

He asked, “Why are you still here?”

“Because I was worried about you.”

“Lie.”

She frowned. It didn’t feel like a lie to her. “Because you could use a friend?” she guessed.

A small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “Try again.”

She sighed in frustration. “Because I made you food, and I want you to eat my food and tell me it’s amazing, and I wanted to make sure you were okay because that was a big admission and then you went zoom-zoom into the sky like a friggin’ rocket. You are a walking red flag, but apparently red is my favorite color. And what in the devil are you, Wreck, if not a dragon? What? What could you possibly—”

His lips crashed onto hers at the exact moment his strong hand went around her throat and gripped her firmly enough to hold her in place, but gently enough to make it pleasurable.

Ooohhh, he knew how to choke a woman in the sexy way, not the scary way.

She eased back from the kiss and searched his eyes. She’d placed her hands on his chest without even realizing it, but there was no heat. No flames. No red. No green.

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