Page 56 of Fire

Gwen looked over at Blake. He was wearing his stern look—lips perfectly flat, jaw tense, eyes hard and penetrating. She turned back to Allie. “I call that his ‘brook no argument’ face.”

Allie laughed. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” Then she glanced over Gwen’s shoulder one more time and added, “Maybe,” before sauntering off.

Gwen started for the car. Blake got to her door first, opening it for her and closing it once she got in. She watched him as he rounded the hood. He was in the same black jeans and tee he’d left that morning in.

Good sign.

They were silent as the tires ate up Ventura Boulevard and silent still as they flew over Laurel Canyon into Beverly Hills. He was in a mood and, it appeared, not a pleasant one. She had a feeling it stemmed from where he’d spent the last several hours.

She debated broaching the subject, wondering if talking about it would help or piss him off more.

Screw it. He needed to open up eventually, and she’d keep pushing until he did.

“Everything go okay with the emergency?”

They’d stopped at a light, and he turned his head to face her. He took a breath, maybe to say something, but got distracted by her legs. She watched his eyes slowly travel down the long, tanned length of them to her feet. Her pink-tipped toes were visible through the open toe of her wedges, and his eyes paused on them before they traveled back up to the hem of her skirt, riding high on her thighs.

“That skirt is ridiculously short.”

She didn’t think that’s what he’d planned to say.

“It’s longer when I’m standing.”

“I saw how long it was.”

She heard the implication in his tone and shrugged. What did he want her to say? Itwasshort, but it was also cute.

A car honked behind them, and her eyes moved to the windshield. “Light’s green.”

His eyes stayed on her legs for an extra few seconds before he faced them forward, put the car into gear, and took off.

They were on the road for another minute before she said, “You never answered my question.”

“Which was?”

He knew damn well what she’d asked. She could let it go—the look on his face said he wanted her to—but he needed to start sharing or their relationship was doomed. Instead of repeating her original question, she asked instead, “Where do you see this relationship going?”

“What do you mean?”

Was he intentionally being obtuse? “Us. You and me. When you think about us, what do you see?”

He threw her a cocky smirk. “I see us fucking.”

“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”

He sighed, his expression turning serious. His hands tightened on the steering wheel to the point his knuckles turned white. “What do you want me to say?”

“If I have to tell you, it makes this conversation pointless.”

He turned onto his street. “We’re almost home. Can we finish this discussion upstairs?” He hit the button on the remote to open the gate.

Not wanting the conversation interrupted nor wanting to finish it in the car, she agreed. “Sure.”

Only that didn’t happen. He was on her as soon as they stepped off the elevator. Grabbing her by the waist, he waited for the door to slide shut before slamming her against it. And his lips were on hers before she even had a chance to protest.

Her hands found his chest, but instead of pushing him away as she’d intended, they fisted handfuls of his shirt when his tongue sliced through her lips and invaded her mouth.

Hands landed on the backs of her thighs, creeping under her skirt to her ass. Strong arms lifted her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him closer. He bit and then sucked on her lower lip before doing the same with the skin at the curve of her neck.

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