Page 20 of Fire

“That you’re going to change.” His eyes dipped to her breasts again for emphasis.

Her cheeks heated, and she gave him her back, hiding her reaction as she shut the door. Averting her gaze, she sidestepped him and mumbled, “Be right back,” before hightailing it to her bedroom.

She got dressed with record-breaking speed. Yanking off her cami—snagging her hair in the process—she contortioned her way into a sports bra, throwing a baggy shirt over that. She pulled a pair of gray sweats—not the cool shiny kind, but the run-of-the-mill cotton ones—out of the drawer, and not bothering to remove her silk shorts, pulled them up her legs.

Next, she ran to the bathroom, threw her hair into a high pony, and half-assed ran a brush over her teeth not even stopping to rinse, swallowing the mouthful of foam, hoping it was enough to freshen her breath.

She’d been gone maybe two minutes. Blake was already seated at the counter, breakfast sandwiches unwrapped, one in front of him and one at the empty place beside him. He was sipping his coffee, waiting for her before starting to eat.

His eyes came to her when she hiked herself up on the barstool next to him. “Thanks.” Gwen grabbed the coffee cup and took a tentative sip to test the temperature, then took a bigger one when she knew it wouldn’t scald her tongue. Vanilla latte, yum.

“You didn’t have to wait.” She gestured to his untouched sandwich.

He gave her the male equivalent of an eye-roll—narrowed eyes with a small frown tugging his lips—but didn’t say anything.

All righty then.

Gwen picked up her sandwich—BLT with a scrambled egg on it—and took a bite. In her periphery, she saw Blake do the same.

A few bites later, she set her sandwich down and turned a little on the barstool to face him. “Why are you here?” She held up a hand to forestall his answer. “And don’t say to bring me breakfast. I mean, why are you here again so soon?” Not that she didn’t want him there, but he had to have better things to do—like run a business.

He popped the last bite of his sandwich into his mouth, chewed, and swallowed before turning his body completely to face her, scooting her closer so her legs were nestled between his. He took her hands that were resting on her thighs and carried them with him as he wrapped his arms around her. His face was so close, Gwen could see the gold flecks in the depths of his hazel eyes and each individual hair that stubbled his chin and jaw.

Belatedly she realized, in the position he’d maneuvered her into, she was trapped and completely at his mercy.

Oh, boy.

“I’m here because I want to be.” What he didn’t tell her was it wasn’t a want, but a need. He needed to be with her. He didn’t tell her that for two reasons.

One, he didn’t want to scare her—coming on too strong hadn’t worked well the last time.

And two, he wasn’t sure how he felt about his unusual craving for her or how long it would last. The feeling was too new, too strange, and something he’d never experienced before. Therefore, he needed to process and analyze it as he did everything in his life.

He was always in command of every situation, but what he felt for Gwen was a weakness, and that left him on edge. Growing up the way he had, it was understandable the control he needed to have, it was just hard for others to understand.

Because he never shared.

There was only one person left alive that fully knew why he was the way he was, and she would never tell a soul.

“That’s not really an answer,” she said, calling him out for being evasive.

He suppressed a smile. “Then I’ll elaborate.”

She licked her lips, and his eyes were drawn to her mouth. He’d noticed she had a habit of doing that when she was nervous. He’d have to make her that way more often. The sight of her tongue peeking out between her lips made him hard every damn time.

“I want to get to know you. And to do that, I need to spend time with you.” There was thatneedword again. It was becoming a common catchphrase where Gwen was concerned. “I’m a man of action and like to take the fastest path to get what I want.”

“And that’s me.”

It wasn’t a question, but he answered anyway. “And that’s you.”

“But for how long?”

“Like I’ve said, I can’t predict the future, but you’re what I want now.”

“That’s what worries me. I feel like there’s an expiration date on this.”

“I’ve already told you I’ve never felt this way before about anyone. That should give you some reassurance.”

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