Page 82 of The Fire We Crave

The wordrailedmakes me grin.

For a moment, I was very concerned about consent. Maybe there’s still a lingering concern that I want to talk with him about today.

He gave me a safe word in the bakery. In the books I’ve read, the Dom always gives a safe word to a sub. It’s never occurred to me that the Dom might need a safe word too. I’ve never dug into the dynamic much beyond reading about it and wishing someone would speak to me and care for me and fuck me in that way.

So, I don’t know if a Dom having a safe word is even a thing.

But, also, I wonder if it even matters what the rules say. Maybe Smoke should have a way of stepping out of whatever we’re doing together with a word that helps him disengage without any hurt feelings.

I hear banging around in the kitchen and smile.

Smoke is rarely quiet. Everything is done at full tilt.

There’s a muttered curse word.

Followed by the sound of footsteps on the wooden floors and the creak of the door as he steps onto the porch.

“Good morning,” I say as he comes to stand next to me.

He doesn’t say anything but tips his chin before taking a sip of coffee, and I watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs when he swallows.

Who knew that could be hot?

He’s wearing nothing but a pair of jeans, unbuttoned, revealing tufts of dark hair. There’s something incredibly sexy about a man in nothing but blue denim. His bare chest is a masterpiece of ink and scars, and I wonder what will have happened to the tattoos beneath, once all the scarring is gone. Will they have been burned away? Will they heal? Will he be able to tattoo over them?

I wonder if he’ll want to.

“I forgot you’re not a morning person.”

It doesn’t get him to break a smile.

He just looks out into the distance. “We shouldn’t do that again,” he says.

And just like that, my good mood is sucked out of me. “No.Youshouldn’t dothisagain.”

Smoke looks at me, wrinkles across his brow. “What?”

“I get it. Life has been hard.Ishard. I get that this is confusing, me and you. And unexpected. But you’ve kissed me like I meant something. Touched me like I meant something. And last night, you railed me like I meant something.”

“Jesus,” he says.

I roll my eyes. “Pfft. Don’t act like you’ve never heard the wordrailed, because a guy who knows how to spank my ass like you did does not get offended by that.”

“Not offended by the wordrailed. Just unexpected to hear it come from your lips.”

I sip my coffee as I search for the next words. “You’re being a coward, Smoke.”

He almost chokes on his. “A fucking coward?”

I turn to face him, rest my mug on the wooden porch railing, then put my hands on my hips. “Yes, a coward.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman hiding out at the house of a person she hated because she was too scared to stay home.”

I try not to let the barb sting. My heart tells me there is something more at play with Smoke, and it’s nothing to do with whether he really wants me or not. He’s pushing me away for some reason I don’t understand. And I won’t be able to leave until I know. “Stop trying to hurt me to make this easier on you. If anything, it makes you evenmoreof a coward.”

He places his mug down on the railing as well, then turns to mirror my body language, with the exception of putting his hands across his chest. “This I’ve got to hear. How the hell am I a coward?”

“You’re running from you and me. It’s easier to keep me at arm’s length and not need or want anything from me. That’s cowardly. And it’s wrong of you to use me like that.”

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