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“Ben,” I whisper, “it will burn you.” He does not stop until the flame has been smothered between our two palms.

“Then burn me, Annie,” he murmurs. “Drag me to Hell and send me up in flames. Just promise me they’ll be yours.”

I hold my breath as he puts one of my hands on his shoulder and envelops the other in his fingers. His other hand moves down my arm, shoulder, and back, resting on my waist, and he tugs me closer. Our breaths mix and our cheeks touch as we begin to sway back andforth, the movement of our bodies perfectly in sync.

My shadows slide back up, gently now, taking their time in mapping every inch of him–inches that I desperately want to explore further. Turning my face, I plant a soft kiss on his neck. A kiss meant to say: ‘I trust you, I care for you, but I do not understand it, and I am frightened’. Ben sighs and leans his head against mine, then a new song begins and he sings quietly in my ear. I do not fully understand the lyrics, but I believe Ben is trying to express that I have the same effect on him as the brown liquor he calls tequila.

“What does it mean?” I ask as he pulls me away from the coffee table and moves us in a small circle across the middle of the living room.

“It means you, and the tequila, both make me crazy,” he murmurs with a breathless laugh, then he spins me around and pulls me close again. I remain silent and listen to the final lyrics, where the man refers to his lover as a ‘favorite sin’.

“Am I your favorite sin, Father Benjamin?” I ask with a small smirk, searching his eyes. He releases my hand and holds my chin between his fingers, running his thumb along my bottom lip.

“I think you just might be, Annie,” he whispers, and then he kisses me.

It is different this time. When we kissed before, I wanted him to submit to me. It was a power struggle, a fire–raging, devouring anger, out of control, ready to destroy. But this…this feels the way I have always imagined rain. All-consuming, life-giving, cleansing. He pulls me against him, moving his hand into my hair as my arms wrap around his neck. He tastes exquisite, like spices and sweat and soap. My shadows deftly slip beneath his clothes, searching for more of him, all of him. Ineedall of him.

“Annie,mi amor,” he breathes, voice full of warning.

“Yes?”

“We can’t…”

“Cannot…cannot what?” I whisper, my mind so muddled by the kiss that I barely process what he is saying.

“Can’t go any further than this,” he says. “Not right now. Theo…”

“Would you like for him to join us?” I ask, moving my lips along Ben’s jaw and down his neck. “I see the way you look at him. I do not mind.”

“Fuck,” he sighs, “as much as I would love that, we can’t. He won’t want to, and…I don’t know…I don’t know what could happen. You two are still connected.”

I let out a low whine and slide my hands beneath his shirt, twisting my fingers through the hair on his chest. Skin, muscle, blood, even bone, all within my grasp. I could take him. I could bind him with my shadows and take what I need from him, but…I do not want to. I want him to want me in return, and I can feel how badly he does–the hardness pressing between my thighs, his haggard breathing as he tries to fight his own desire, the way his hands grip my hair when his forehead comes to rest against mine. I realize that this is enough. The fact that he is not afraid of me, that he knows everything I am and still cares for me, trusts me…

It is enough.

“Will you stay with me?” I ask, not wanting to be away from him for even a moment. Ben lets out a low laugh and presses a sweet kiss to my forehead, causing the fluttering sensation to explode in my chest, more intense than ever before.

“Of course.” Without letting me go, he leans down and grabs several blankets and pillows from around us, then tosses them on the couch. Once we have enough, he falls backwards, pulling me down with him. I let out a tiny squeal as we land, surprising myself. I have heard human women on the television make this sound, but it is new for me. Ben grins as we settle in–him lying on hisback, propped against the arm of the couch, me tucked beside him, my head and shoulder draped across his chest. He takes one of the blankets and covers us both, then puts two fingers on my chin and tilts my face back.

“We can’t do anything else, but I’m still gonna kiss you until you tell me to stop,” he murmurs. I reach up and thread my fingers through his hair, pulling myself closer until our lips meet.

“I will not tell you to stop,” I assure him.

21

Theo

Cottonmouth. Headache. Sweaty.Starving,but no real appetite.

It feels like a hangover, but I didn’t even have any fun last night. I sit up and reach for the water Ben left me, sucking down the entire glass.

Goddamn, that was a trip. At least my body waited until Ros was gone before going into fight or flight mode. And then Ben…I’m having a really hard time finding any room for regret about the fact that I kidnapped and blackmailed him into my life. Or I guess he frauded and robbed his way into mine. Either way, now that I have some kind of closure with Ros, all I can think about is how to convince him to stay. As my roommate…or as anything else. I fumble for my phone, and I’m hit with another wave of panic when I see the reminder on the screen: ‘Tabby - Soccer Game’.

In less than two hours.Fuck!

I scramble out of bed and grab a pair of sweatpants, then rush down the hall, still bleary-eyed. In the kitchen, I grab the box of Lucky Charms off the top of the fridge and turn around to get a bowl, but freeze in my tracks. Ben is stretched out on the couch, one arm tucked behind his head, Annoth snuggled under his other arm. She’s wedged between his body and the back of the couch, head resting on his chest, one hand over his heart as she watches the TV. When she hears me in the kitchen, she looks up, and I slam thecereal box onto the counter.

“What. The.Fuck?” I hiss. In a burst of shadows, she vanishes from Ben’s side and reappears in front of me, still wearing her yoga pants and tank top from the night before. Her hair is down now, messy as if she actually slept, but I don’t trust that it’s not from something else.