Page 24 of Playing with Fire

He glanced over. "You hate when things get moved."

"I'm making an exception." The words came out gruffer than intended, and I softened my tone. "For you."

The simple admission seemed to affect him more than I expected. He nodded, a small smile playing at his lips as he continued unpacking with slightly more confidence.

I pulled up the security feeds I'd installed throughout the compound. The smoking ruin of Leo's trailer appeared on my left monitor, crime scene tape fluttering uselessly in the breeze. Nothing but char and ash remained of his life before me. The destruction was beautiful in its completeness, but the lack of control, of purpose, offended me on a fundamental level. Fire should transform, not merely destroy. It should have meaning, serve justice, bring balance to an unbalanced world.

This fire had no meaning except as a message. To me.

Leo's hands slid over my shoulders. The innocent touch sent heat racing through me, a reaction I never expected. His fingers brushed the bare skin at my collar, leaving electricity in their wake.

"Any progress finding them?" he asked, his breath hot against my ear.

I tried to focus on the smoking ruin of his trailer on my screen, but his proximity scrambled my thoughts. The scent of my soap on his skin triggered something primal inside me. Mine. The thought pounded through me with each heartbeat.

"Not yet," I managed, my voice rougher than intended. "But they'll slip up. They always do."

Leo leaned closer, his chest pressing against my back as he studied the screen. "What are we looking for, exactly?"

"Patterns. Signatures." I turned my head slightly, and suddenly our faces were inches apart. His dark eyes, always so expressive, were dilated, the deep brown almost consumed by black. "People who plan meticulously still leave traces of themselves behind."

His lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. Instead, his gaze dropped to my mouth. The air between us thickened, charged with an electricity that made it hard to breathe.

I'm not sure who closed the distance first.

Our mouths collided with bruising force, months of unacknowledged hunger finally unleashed. I twisted in my chair, my hand coming up to cup the back of his neck, fingers threading through his hair to hold him exactly where I wanted him. Leo made a broken sound against my lips, something between a gasp and a moan that sent heat pooling low in my belly.

I'd never wanted anyone like this—with this raw, unfiltered need that bypassed all my usual detachment. His mouth opened beneath mine, and I claimed him thoroughly, tasting every corner, teaching him without words how I wanted to be kissed.

When I finally pulled back, his pupils were blown wide, his breathing ragged. I rose from my chair in one fluid motion, backing him against the wall. My hands found his wrists, pinning them beside his head as I pressed the length of my body against his.

"Xavier," he gasped, the sound of my name on his lips making my skin feel too tight.

"I've been fighting this for months," I admitted, my voice a low growl that made him shiver. "Thinking about your mouth. Your hands. The sounds you'd make if I touched you just right."

I shifted my hips deliberately against his, feeling his hardness match my own. The friction tore a broken moan from his throat, his head falling back against the wall to expose the vulnerable column of his neck. I couldn't resist—I leaned in, scraping my teeth along his pulse point before sucking hard enough to leave a mark. Mine.

"Why—" his voice broke as I bit down again, "why didn't you say something sooner?"

My laugh was dark against his skin. "Would you have believed me?" I released one of his wrists to slide my hand under his borrowed shirt, tracing the ridges of his ribs, feeling goosebumps rise in my wake. "The big bad vigilante, obsessed with his sweet tech expert?"

"Obsessed?" The hope in his voice was unmistakable.

I pulled back enough to meet his gaze, letting him see the truth in my eyes. "Completely." I traced my thumb across his lower lip, watching it tremble beneath my touch. "I want to mark every inch of you. Want everyone to see you're mine. Want to hear you beg for me."

His free hand clutched at my shoulder, fingers digging in hard enough to bruise. "Yes," he breathed, the simple word carrying the weight of complete surrender.

I claimed his mouth again, hungrier this time, drinking in the little sounds he couldn't suppress. My thigh slid between his legs, pressing up against his hardness, giving him something to rut against. He did, his hips jerking forward in desperate little movements that made my own cock throb in response.

"Please," he gasped when I finally released his mouth to trail bites down his jaw. "Touch me, Xavier."

"Where?" I demanded, my voice dark with promise. "Tell me exactly where you want my hands, Leo."

"Everywhere," he moaned as I sucked another mark onto his neck. "Anywhere. Just... please."

I slid my hand down his stomach, tracing the waistband of his jeans, teasing but not crossing that boundary yet. His muscles jumped beneath my touch, his breathing growing more erratic. When my fingers brushed the button of his jeans, he suddenly tensed.

"Wait," he gasped, catching my wrist. "There's something... there's something you should know first."

---