Page 24 of Breaking Blaze

She had to have died. Died and gone to heaven—the most decadent, delicious, sensual, sinful heaven ever. Because there was no other way to explain what the hell was happening.

Blaze.

Kissing.

Her.

Blaze was kissing her.

With that, thoughts sputtered out as sensations exploded.

His mouth was on hers, his lips hard against hers, pressing. His teeth nipping. His tongue flicking along the seam, tasting her. Sipping her. She groaned, her body on fire. Caught in an immolation with Blaze. As she began to fall into him, her legs weakening, her chest burning from holding her breath just to keep the fire burning, reality began beating against the cage of her mind.

No. She shouldn’t be doing this.

Blaze. She shouldn’t be kissing him.

Squeezing her hands in between the bodies, which were so close together she could feel his belt buckle—was that his belt buckle?—digging into her belly, she pushed on his chest. His hard, muscle-packed chest.

With a jerk, he broke the kiss but didn’t pull away. His hot, gasping breaths heating her already flaming face.

“Why?” he grated breathily. “Why did you give your first kiss to that douche? It was meant to be mine. My Anna. My kiss,” he proclaimed darkly, hotly, before taking her lips once more.

God, he was so good, his mouth aggressively taking her, devouring her lips—first the bottom, then the top. Sucking each one into his mouth to nip and lathe with this tongue. And then his hand slid up her side, his thumb flicking her erect, aching nipple. She gasped—and he invaded. His tongue slipping into her mouth to conquer. Fast, slow, deep, shallow, the man kissed, giving and taking, heightening every sensation, sending tingles over her heated skin, rising chill bumps on her body.

And Lord, the wetness gathering in her panties, turned to lava as her pussy clinched, and her clit throbbed. If this is what kissing Blaze was like, it was no wonder other wom—

“No!” she cried, scrambling off the couch and backward until her ass hit the island separating the living room and the kitchen.

His chest rising and falling sharply, Blaze rose slowly, like a predator who’d cornered his prey, and reached for her. “Anna—”

She held up a shaking hand. Startled, he stopped dead. “No! You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to use me because I’m convenient and you’re horny. You don’t get to take from me because you think I’m—I’m some sexless lump, not even a woman, completely unable to attract any man, let alone the great, amazing, bed burning Blaze Harris.” A sad, twisted laugh tumbled from her mouth.

Blaze jolted hard, his big body stumbling sideways.

“What?” he rasped. “What the hell are you talking about?”

She sneered. “I heard you, Blaze. You freaking butt dialed me right after you texted some chick named Katie.”

His eyes grew wide, panic turning his face white. His mouth dropped open—more than likely to come up with an excuse.

“I heard every word you said to AJ. I heard every word you said about me. I know how you really feel about me, what you really think. After eight years—to you I am no more than a lonely, eager dog, waiting for you to come by when it’s convenient. To show affection to when it’s easy. To pat my head and rub my belly and fool me into thinking I mean something to you.”

“Anna!” he barked, but she growled, cutting him off.

“Don’t you fucking dare try to tell me I didn’t hear what I heard. Sally heard it, too.”

He took a step back, his hands gripping the back of his neck, his tattooed biceps flexing with the movement beneath taut, golden skin. Her mouth dried, the moisture moving south to her panties, where her aching core clenched.

Hell, even when she was beyond livid with him, she couldn’t help but react to his physical beauty.

“God-fucking-dammit, Anna,” Blaze ground out, dropping his arms to his sides, his hands curling into fists. “I admit saying those things—but I didn’t mean a single damn word of it.”

She snorted. “You sounded awfully confident in your feelings, Blaze. You didn’t even hesitate to tell AJ that I was an emotional support animal—what the hell kind of friend says shit like that about another friend?”

Thrusting his fingers through his hair, he growled. Turning to pace to the couch and back. Finally, he stopped, his body thrumming with emotion; anger straining his muscles, shame hardening is face, desperation widening his dark blue eyes.

“Seriously,” she prodded, heedless of the coming explosion. “What did you think would happen if I found out what you said? That I’d roll over and ignore it like a good little puppy?”

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