Page 52 of Controlled Burn
His hands hadn’t.
His mouth had been heat and desperation and praise all at once. His fingers had known exactly where to press. His voice—low, broken, hungry—was burned into her skin.
But the second it ended?
The second he groaned and pulled out, breathing hard against her neck?
He didn’t kiss her. Didn’t say a word.
He just cleaned himself up and left, as if it were nothing.
Like she was nothing.
Talia clenched her jaw and turned the knob hotter, until the water stung. Her fingers dug into her thighs. Shame curdled in her gut.
Why hadn’t she said anything?
Why hadn’t she stopped him?
Because she’d wanted it.
Because she’d been dying for it.
Because she’d thought—maybe—it meant something.
Her throat tightened.
What if it didn’t?
What if she were just… a release? Just an easy mistake during a long shift and a stressful inspection?
What if she gave herself to him completely—and he just needed to blow off steam?
What if she were forgettable?
Her eyes darted to the dryer where it happened, heart pounding as she spotted her black hair tie left behind, coiled tight around a dial. A tiny thing—so easy to throw away, to erase. Would he even notice it tomorrow? Would he keep it, or toss it in the trash and never think of her again?
She squeezed her eyes shut. Water traced down her cheeks, hot and sharp, indistinguishable from tears.
The sound of the locker room door creaking open nearly stopped her heart. Footsteps—slow, measured—crossed the tile floor.
Was it him?
Was it Dean?
She held her breath. Listened.
But the steps faded. A locker opened. Then closed. Someone else.
Relief and disappointment collided in her chest. She braced her palms against the wall, dragging in a breath.
She couldn’t do this. Couldn’t feel this much.
Not here.
Not with everyone watching her like a hawk. Not with Nina’s suspicions and Jake’s eyes and Maddox pretending nothing happened.
She turned off the water and stepped into the steam, heart pounding like she’d run a mile. Her skin was flushed, marked, raw.
