Burn

“We’re everything we can’t control. Her desire, my fire. Together we burn.”

“Not that I’m complaining,” he whispers in my ear with a voice made for whispering and earlobe tickles. “But why’d you sit on my lap?”

Is he flirting with me or making fun of me? I can’t tell.

With him closer, I can now smell him, and he smells so manly. Like matches and whiskey and he’s cuddly, like a bear and I want him to maul me.

“I’m making my ex jealous,” I confess, and then blink rapidly, waiting on his response.

There’s no sense in starting this off with a lie. Might as well be perfectly honest up front.

Shifting on his lap, I press my knees together, mostly because I need to close my legs before I take his hand and shove it somewhere it shouldn’t be just yet.

Carefully considering my confession, he then nods, as though he’s okay with that being the reason. “Okay, fair enough.” He’s still whispering, and I never ever want him to stop. “How far are we talking?”

I stare into his eyes framed by the darkest eyelashes I’ve ever seen. His eyes are green. Like pretty evergreen tree green. “No clue,” I finally say. I’m too mesmerized by his beauty to say much else, and the cut lip with the dried blood only adds to his appeal. I like a man who’s not afraid to defend himself.