Page 20 of Breaking Blaze

It had taken all of his strength and self-control to leave Happy Jack’s without pounding someone’s face in. Namely the douche who’d stolen Anna’s first kiss.

MY kiss!

He was supposed to be her first kiss, and damn if he didn’t realize how ridiculous that sounded. She was a grown woman, she could kiss anyone she wanted, but her first kiss…it was supposed to be special. She’d always talked about how she was waiting for the right man, that special man who deserved it.

And fool he was thought she’d always meant him. That he was the special man she wanted to give her first kiss to. He wasn’t an idiot; he knew Anna wanted more than friendship from him, that she cared for him beyond friends.

In the depths of his heart…in the deepest reaches of his soul, he knew Anna Cass was his one. The one. The woman he was meant to be with for the rest of his life. But as part of some kind of dark and damned cosmic penance against him, he could never claim her—her kisses, her body, or her heart.

All these years, holding on to it, waiting for him to get his head out of his ass and take it, and she’d just given it away to someone she’d just fucking met!

“What the fuck?!” he bellowed into the cab of his truck. He pounded his fists into the steering wheel, thankful he’d made it home without hitting anyone on the street.

Getting out of his truck, Blaze strode to the door of the apartment building and threw the door open, not caring that it almost hit the outside wall.

The interior of the small lobby was bright with fluorescent lighting which highlighted the modern lines, gray and white walls, and lit up the wall lined with mailboxes.

Moving toward the elevator, he changed his mind at the last moment, deciding to release some of the tension and anger in his body by climbing the stairs to the seventh floor where his and Anna’s apartments were located. But before he could plow through the swinging door to the stairwell, the elevator dinged and opened. Brigit from apartment 109 came strolling out, her fuck-me eyes finding his almost instantly. She smiled, her face lighting up with sensual glee.

Usually, his dick would be dancing in his pants at a look like that, but this time, it left him flagging. He gazed at what she was wearing, a little black dress that wrapped her lithe body like melted sex wax, bright red heels that showed off her long, toned legs, and an updo that showed off her long neck. She was headed out for a night on the prowl. Thank fuck he wasn’t up for getting caught by her again.

“Hey there,” she purred, reaching out to slide a single red-tipped claw down his chest. He physically recoiled. That didn’t stop her from placing her whole hand against his chest, though.

He stepped back.

“Brigit,” he clipped, moving to walk around her.

“In a hurry?” she asked, her tone dripping with promise of rough sex—a repeat of their night together. The same night Anna had…stopped being his Anna. “I stopped by to see if you were home. I was hoping I could invite myself over for dinner…and dessert? Let you fuck me on every surface in your living room.” At one time—not even a few days ago—he might have jumped at the chance to lose himself in her for a few hours, even if she was on his one and done list. Now, however, he couldn’t stomach the heat of her body so near his let alone her touch.

“No. Brigit,” he said, his words sharp. “Excuse me.” He slipped around her and through the door to the stairwell, not bothering to look back at his past one-night stand.

His frustrations ate the flights of stairs, his thoughts banging against the inside of his skull.

It’s her first date. She’ll call it a night soon. She’s cautious, probably won’t want to give the guy too much of her time. They are just getting to know each other. Anna won’t go home with him—he refused to even consider that possibility.

But she gave him her first kiss, what’s to stop her from giving him her body, too?

A roar escaped his throat, blasting through the enclosed, echo chamber stairwell. He cut off the sound just as he made it to the seventh floor.

Determined to wait for her in her apartment and demand she tell him what the hell she was thinking, Blaze pushed through the stairwell door and into the seventh-floor elevator/stairwell foyer. Her apartment was at the end of the corridor and he made it there in seconds, his stride eating up the distance.

Yanking his keys from his pocket, he fingered the key she’d given him years ago when she’d moved in. To her it had been a no-brainer; giving Blaze a key to her place so he could come and go as he pleased. To him, though, it was a sign that she still cared for him, trusted him, that his decision to basically abandon her for the Navy for four years hadn’t had a lasting effect on their relationship. The little silver key had been a symbol that their friendship, one that meant everything to him, was still strong…and could only grow stronger if he let it. And he wanted that more than anything.

Yeah, but how strong is that friendship now? She’s avoiding you like you’re a leper, going on dates without telling you, and kissing fuckers who don’t even love her a tenth of how much you love her.

Gritting his teeth, he lifted the key to the lock and…. It didn’t fit.

He tried again, thinking he’d picked the wrong key. He studied it. Nope. It was the right key.

Dread, the likes of which he’d never felt before slid over him, a chill as thick as an oil slick coating his skin.

She’d changed the locks.

“Anna….” Her name left his mouth on a painful whimper. “Why?”

But she wasn’t there to answer him. She was on a date.

Slamming his forehead against the door, he stared down at the laughable symbol of her trust in his hands. It meant nothing now.

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