Page 68 of The Candlemaker

A deep sound rumbled from his chest as though an animal were caged inside it.

It didn’t take much force from his finger to dislodge the solid wax, the sound of it falling to the floor disappearing in the booms of lust. The touch was silent. Like a hot, electric lightning bolt of lust. But it was the following thunder of ache that reverberated through me. It shook my bones and quaked through my blood. It wasn’t just wanting him that was forbidden, it was the way I wanted him that felt dangerous, too.

He traced the perimeter of the red skin like the patch was a sacred sight.“Do you know what temperature soy candles burn at?”

What temperature…my eyelids fluttered. Why was he trying to test my candle knowledge right now?

“One…” I paused and swallowed. “One thirty-five to one hundred forty-five degrees.”

He made that low sound again. The one that was hot and heavy the way it dripped down my spine and hardened the ache in my core.

“It’s why soy wax is the safest. It has the lowest melting point, so less likely to burn the skin,” he rumbled, and my brows slowly drew together, watching him bring my hand tohis lips. The first brush was a lesson in tenderness. The press of his lips to the wound like a kiss could heal it. “I’d still hold it farther away so it doesn’t do this.” His tongue slid out and licked my skin, but it was impossible to say which affected me more—the touch or what his words implied.

I’d been making and selling candles long enough to have a basic knowledge of what was involved with wax play. Which candles were good, which ones were better. Every so often, adventurous and unabashed honeymooners would wander into my shop and confirm that the soy wax used in my candles was safe for skin.

I’d wondered about the kink. I had at least a dozen scars from hot wax on my hands and arms, but every time it happened, there was only a flash of pain followed by a low, pulsing burn. A burn that made me wonder in those brief, unfiltered moments what drips of hot wax would feel like on other parts of my body. Pain mingled with pleasure. A burn on the outside to match the burn within.

His tongue flicked over the tender skin, sending a shiver along my spine. A charge. A spark.I didn’t want to wonder anymore.

“Show me.”

Chandler stilled. His wet clothes reflected the ripple that went through his muscles at the words that weren’t a plea but an order.

I wanted to know, and I wanted to know with him. Rules be damned. Situation be damned. Consequences be damned.

Frankie be damned.

His eyes lifted to mine, the dark pools molten with a kind of lust that made my nipples furl even tighter. Painfully tight.

“Show me,” I repeated, just in case he doubted what he’d heard.

“Frankie—”

There was a loud bang from inside the house, and he whipped around, barricading me behind him.

“Stay here.” His tone was hard. “Someone’s in the kitchen.”

The kitchen.He disappeared with my candle, and it only took a second for me to follow him. Nox wouldn’t be here—shouldn’t be here. Not in this storm. But if he was…

I was almost running by the time I reached the kitchen, and I instantly came to a halt. There was no sign of Nox.Thank God.But Chandler was standing on the counter in front of the window—the one I told Nox to use to sneak into the building.He wore a scowl when he looked at me, but it was no surprise that I hadn’t listened to him.

“The latch on this window is broken.” His gaze bored into mine, almost like he knew.

Crap.

“Oh?” I had plenty of excuses for my voice’s higher pitch.

There was a pause. A long pause to see who would crack first.

“It was a gust of wind that must’ve caught it and caused it to bang,” he said, shimmying the window and trying to force the lock to engage. “I saw a hammer and some nails in the hall closet. Can you grab them for me?”

My jaw went slack and then snapped shut. “Yeah.”

I took the candle from where he’d set it on the counter and moved mindlessly into the hall. Sure enough, there was a hammer and a tattered box of nails in the closet left from when they’d started doing work to restore the inn.

“Here.” I handed him the hammer, watching as he sealed shut my secret weapon. There was only one night left, and if Nox couldn’t sneak in…I’d find another way. I’d have to.

“That should keep it closed.” His shoes squelched when he hopped down from the counter, landing right in front of me.

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