Page 27 of The Heir

“It better be mine.” He pointedly glanced to where our bodies were connected and grinding, his voice barely more than a whisper. “You said it was mine, no take backs.”

His grip remained and he took his time tasting my lips again. He let go and I gasped into his mouth, in a greedy attempt for air that he only half permitted.

“Jesus fuckin’ Christ you were in jail for like ten minutes. Stop manhandling her on my front porch like you just did a ten-year bit, Easy Junior,” Trista scoffed from the other side of the screen door.

At the sound of her voice, I startled hard, shoving into his chest like I meant to move both my brothers at once. He stumbled backward, tripping over the length of leash that his Uncle Easy’s lazy ass always kept doubled around the porch rail. He insisted upon it, so he didn’t have to go outside with his pup. Aunt Trista was forever bitching that someone was going to break their necks on it someday.

“Fuckin’ Easy,” Trista scoffed, moving away from the door finally.

“Damn,” Blaze rubbed his chest and grinned. “You do that with a shove, I’d hate to see a punch.”

“I got two brothers, don’t try me.” I playfully warned with a laugh, before glancing inside. “Are we going to bunk right here beside the garbage bin or do you intend to let me into the house, Blaze Aviston?”

“Ouch. The full name,” he teased, jerking the screen door open and stepping back.

When I shifted to move past, he popped me on the ass hard enough to make Aunt Trista peek from the dining room.

“Listen, she ain’t got enough back there for you to be doin’ all that. We call her Baby Cakes,” Trista teased.

My whole face lit up, as it always did when they carried on about my backside, “Only she and Izzy call me that.”

“I like it,” Blaze grinned. “It’s fitting. You don’t have a big ol’ ass, but you got a lil’ cake back there. Just enough to jig–”

I popped him in the chest hard and high enough to make him choke on the word.

He pointed, eyes bugged while he hacked his lungs up. I smiled mercilessly at him.

“Any other part of my anatomy you’d like to carry on about in front of my father’s sister?”

He shook his head, smiling between residual coughing fits.

“Sounds like you need to leave that weed alone,” I carried on, because I could feel Trista’s eyes on me, and I didn’t have the nerve to meet her gaze.

I didn’t know what it was that made me this way around him. I’d had all of one damn boyfriend my whole life. I kept these bastards at bay, but I was drawn to him. Not the way I was with his uncle. Easy was a hero in my mind. Forever imprinted frommy childhood as the man who saved me in the massacre. When the glass shattered, the bullets flew, and those terrible screams erupted, he was the one who whisked me away to safety.

It didn’t matter what his patch said, Eric ‘Easy’ Aviston would always be a soldier in my eyes. A general amongst them if we were being real. I was so happy when I realized my Aunt Trista had married him. It didn’t matter if my dad claimed Easy was a part time junkie, he would never be anything less than gold to me.

Maybe that was what made Blaze okay? I couldn’t be sure. My whole life I have known my father was a monster. I remembered the terror that had existed when my mother was alive. I swear, I can remember the night she tried to leave, even if Easy always tried to assure me it was the talk about it that made me form the vision in my mind. He claims I was too small, but I think he’s wrong.

I remembered Easy saving me just fine, didn’t I? It was all around the same time, or so it seemed to my tortured mind.

“Hey,” Blaze’s voice had turned gentle and I blinked, not realizing I’d lost myself.

I tore in a poorly concealed breath and tried to let out a laugh.

“I guess I didn’t get much sleep.” I shook my head.

“Nah, I shouldn’t have said that. I’m sorry, alright?” He quietly apologized, while searching my face with concern in his eyes.

“Blaze…” A hint of laughter carried on his name when I blurted it out.

That nervous laughter. It always came when people complimented me or showed concern. It made me uncomfortable as fuck.

“Show Blaze to the guest room. Y'all can catch a nap,” Trista suggested.

I cleared my throat and gave a short nod. I’d never shared a bed with a guy before, but I didn’t volunteer that information to anyone. I just hooked his pinky with mine and led him down the hall.

Their home was beautiful. It was made to look like a log cabin inside, with cedar walls and tall ceilings. Blaze shut the door behind us and tugged at my wrist subtly. I looked back at him, and he stepped toward me, taking my face in his warm hands again.

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