Page 53 of A Thirst for Franc

“I guess. Just until we figure things out. Who knows, maybe after tonight, I’ll be out of your system.”

A loud laugh erupted from him. “I highly doubt that, but I’m willing to test that theory.” His hand snaked around my waist, and he yanked me toward him, shifting until I was beneath him.

Smokey blue eyes gazed down at me, a slight sparkle shining through the heated haze. His lips crashed into mine, and every stupid insecurity and doubt fled. I sank into the kiss, savoring every thrust of his tongue against my own.

Water rose all around me, slamming against the windows with relentless force. I frantically grabbed for the door handle and pushed, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t budge the damn thing. A scream ripped from my throat as the window shattered. Water rushed in, dragging me beneath its depths.

I was going to die. The night sky drifted away, and there were no more stars or moon giving me light. Blackness overtook me, my lungs burned, and fear turned me to stone.

My body shook, the waves tossing my body about. My arms flailed in the water, searching for purchase—anything to help me.

Another hard shake.

“Quinn…” The faint sound of Franc’s voice was a mere memory as I lost the battle. “Quinn!” he yelled, and my eyes popped open. The moonlight greeted me, and I patted the surrounding bed. There was no water. Everything was dry.

I inhaled a deep breath, my throat coarse. How much screaming did I do?

“Jesus Christ, Quinn.” Franc took my face in his hands, his smoky blue eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”

Relief settled in my bones, but the fear strangled my words.

He pulled me to him, holding me tight against his chest. My body shook as the adrenaline left me. Franc grabbed the blankets and tucked them around us, running his hand up and down my arm. “It’s okay. It was just a nightmare.”

“I-I’m sorry,” I managed, my vocal cords straining to work properly. “I haven’t had a nightmare in… it’s been a while.”

“I’msorry. I never should have let you go out into that storm.”

I shook my head against his chest. “We already went over this. It’s not your fault. I should have been paying better attention.”

“I hate to see you scared. I hate to see you anything but happy.”

His admission sent warmth spreading through my heart. “That’s sweet, but I hate to break it to you, being happy all the time is a near impossibility.”

“Are you challenging me? Because I promise to make you happy all the time.”

“I don’t want to be happy all the time,” I admitted.

“Why not?” His tone dipped, confusion clinging to the two words.

“Because then I’d have nothing to compare the happiness to. Sad moments, scary moments, they remind me to savor those happy times. Without them, happiness wouldn’t have much meaning at all.”

His finger stopped trailing my arm for a moment before he continued the soothing stroke. “As long as I’m not the one making you sad or scared, then I guess I’m okay with that.”

I glanced up at his handsome face. “You really are a good man, aren’t you?”

His lip quirked slightly. “I try.” There was an undertone to his words that told me he didn’t believe me.

I cupped his cheek, relishing in the warmth of his skin beneath my hand, the stubble that was rough yet comforting. “You are.”

He turned his head to my hand, kissing my palm. “Thank you, but this isn’t about me.”

“I don’t want to talk about my nightmare. I need a distraction. Why don’t you think you’re a good man? Talk to me.” I pouted.

He barked out a laugh that was equal parts warm and sexy. He tapped my lip. “Don’t you start that now.”

“I figured it was worth a shot.” I poked his side. “Now talk.”

He thrust a hand through his hair, and his body eased into the mattress. “If I’m honest, most of the time I feel like I’m failing.”

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