Page 40 of Flame
He dips his chin until we’re eye to eye.
“You don’t actually want me around,” I say, biting back the bitterness of the words. Instead of spewing them, I use them to fuel my rage—the rage flooding me so completely that my hands shake. “But then you volunteer—actually, you demand to have me here, although I have other options.”
He rolls his tongue around his lips.
“Then you get me here and proceed to fuck with me,” I say, instinctively moving toward him. “You screw with my head like it’s some kind of deluded game to you.”
“It’s not, Bianca.”
“You tell me to take care of myself, and when I try to do that—when I try to get away from you—you hold me hostage.”
He stiffens. “That’s not what this is.”
“The hell that’s not what this is.” I glare at him. “But why? Why don’t you just let me leave? If you care so much about Jason—because you obviously don’t care about me—then let me call someone else. I’ll call Troy or Renn or Ford Landry or Calvin—oof.”
His mouth crashes against mine.
My knees buckle. He slides his arm around the small of my back and hauls me into himwhere I melt.
Anger and frustration—the force of denial and restraint snaps and flows into the way his lips press against mine.
His hands cup my cheeks, and he holds me still like there’s a chance in hell I’m going to pull away.
I can’t pull away. I can’t believe this is happening. I can’t do anything but stand in place while he deepens the kiss … and then breaks it.
Everything breaks.
His eyes search mine as I wobble on my feet. He drops his hands slowly, watching me carefully as I back up.
Oh my God.
Flames lick outwards from my core. Explosions rattle off in my head. I struggle to breathe and to remember how we got here. To Foxx kissing me.
Oh. My. God.
I touch my lips with my fingertips, composing myself as quickly as possible. As fast as I get myself together, he slips away from me.
“What was that?” I ask, almost afraid to hear the answer. A part of me expects another bullshit response, and I don’t know how I’ll react if he pulls a stunt like that again.
His chest rises and falls. For the first time since I met him, the shield between us is completely gone.
There he is. The man I considered my friend. The kind, thoughtful Foxx. I grin.And he gave me the best kiss of my life.
“That was what I think about every minute of every fucking day,” he says. “Not an hour goes by that I don’t think about you—about kissing you, listening to you laugh, seeing your smile. About holding you, making you dinner, running you a bath with the little bomb things you love so much.”
Tears gather in the corners of my eyes.
“I think about lying beside you and listening to you tell me about your day. I imagine making love to you, fucking you—being so damn deep inside you that it’s impossible to tell where you end and I begin.”
My fingers itch to reach for him, to offer him a reminder that I’m here. But a hesitation in his honesty holds me back.
He smiles sadly. “But that’s not possible. I know that, except it’s so hard to accept it. And when Jason said you might be in danger, and I watch as Landry Security doesn’t send anyone …” He wipes a hand down his face and exhales. “I can’t trust you with them.” He swallows. “But I can’t trust you with me, either.”
“Why not?”
He looks at the floor.
“Why not, Foxx? Just tell me. Let’s get this out in the open now so we can move on.”
