Page 98 of The Fire We Crave

SMOKE

She’s right.

This place is a goddamn mausoleum, minus the dead bodies. But the ghosts of the people it’s a tribute to haunt every goddamn corner.

And I’m gonna help Quinn reclaim this space. Because as she heads to the smallest bedroom, my heart breaks for her. I get it—I was the oldest child, so I got the biggest room. By the time they got to my two youngest brothers, they were stuffed in a tiny room in bunk beds. I think the only reason they went into the army as young as they did was that a military dorm would still feel like more space. We rarely see each other because of the bases they’re serving at, but we text each other frequently.

Excitement rushes through me at the thought of introducing Quinn to them.

Thankfully, despite her space being the smallest, it’s obviously the one space she felt she could make her own. It’s light and bright, painted in a soft cream with pretty curtains and a soft pale pink throw on the twin bed.

Everything is meticulously tidy.

It’s the one place she can control.

Bones is excited, and we both squat to play with him for a moment.

“Did I lock the door? I don’t remember if I put the?—”

I stop her as she’s about to pass me to head down and check. “I put the dead bolt on the door downstairs. You threw the dead bolt and chain on the door up here. And I”—I open my cut slightly so she can see the fact I’m armed—“have everything else covered.”

“Okay,” she sighs. But she eyes the door anyway.

I reach for her wrist and take her hand. “Come on, we’ll check together.”

We go back down the stairs, and she puts her fingers over the dead bolt to touch it, even though she can see it’s locked. Then, she does the same to the doorway that leads into the kitchen of the bakery.

“Okay,” she says again.

When we get back to the apartment, she locks it and puts her fingertips over the dead bolt. This time, I put my fingertips over hers. “They’re locked, sweetheart.”

She leans back against my body, and I can feel the relief in her system as her shoulders drop and a sigh leaves her body.

I slide my hands in front of her and begin to unbutton the dress. “I think what you need now is something to make you forget about locks.”

Eventually, I won’t have to explain why I’m doing what I’m doing with her. She’ll trust me enough to know, whatever it is, it’s in her best interest.

“I’d like that.”

“On a scale of one to ten, how far out of your comfort zone do you want to go tonight?”

She turns in my arms to face me. “What do you mean?”

“Sex doesn’t have to be kinky all the time. Sometimes you just want safe and comforting sex. Slow, but more predictable. That would be a one. Five would be something more...”

“Life affirming?” Her eyes twinkle with mischief.

I kiss her tenderly, then bite her lip. Her pupils flare in surprise.

“That’s one word for it.”

“What’s ten?”

“Ten? Anything is game within any hard limits you have. But we haven’t had that conversation yet.”

“Could we do it now?”

I grin and shake my head. “No. Because it will take an age to do it right. I feel like that’s something best saved for when we’re naked on a Sunday afternoon because, believe me, I’m really interested to know your opinion on anal plugs, cock worship, bondage, and choking. But how about we start with what you want to try?”

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