Page 31 of Burning Ember

Oh, dear God, almighty.

I gasp as every muscle in my body goes tense. Flurries of pleasure burst from where his hand touches me skin to skin.

His touch is different from Warner’s. There’s not only an undercurrent offearrolling around inside me . . . no . . . there’s an undercurrent offearandneed. It’s new. Tantalizing. And I’m surprisingly hungry for more.

His hand stills on my stomach. “Not what you’re thinkin’. There ain’t nothin’ you got that I want.”

Twisting my neck, I try to look over my shoulder, to see if I can tell if he’s telling me the truth. But it’s impossible to see his face like this.

“Just hold the fuck still while I check you.”

“Check me?” My voice comes out higher than usual.

“For a wire. Drugs.”

“I’m not an idiot,” I whisper. “I’m not here to spy on you.”Not yet. Not if I don’t have to.“And I’ve never even done drugs.” Technically, another lie. I’ve been high from inhaling what others were smoking, thanks to my mother’s choice of friends, but I’ve never done drugs myself.

“Just shut up and let me check you.”

His hand travels up my torso. He cups my breast, trails his fingers over my nipple and the damn thing pebbles against my will. My breathing turns heavy.

“Is that really necessary?” My words sound hoarse.

“What’d I tell you?”

To shut up and let him check.

Calm down,I scold myself. He’s not touching you because he wants to. He’s touching you because he’s trying to find a reason to toss you out on your ass.

I close my eyes and tighten my thigh muscles. Trying to douse the ache he’s started there.

His body is mere inches from mine. His scent, a mixture of tobacco, leather, and minty soap as it swirls around me. Harsh breaths caress my bared shoulder, making goosebumps spread down my arms. I roll my bottom lip under my top teeth and bite down.Pain.Focus on the pain.

He’s probably done this a zillion times. Searched all the new girls who have come into the club. To him, this is just a body search. Part of his job. Something he has to do to protect the club. Not foreplay. I pray, please let this end quickly.Then maybe he won’t notice how turned on I am. No need to add to my embarrassment. Haven’t I already been through enough for one day?

His hand leaves my breast and brushes over my cleavage before he “searches” my other breast. Seconds later his hand slides down and away. Though it’s gone, I feel an echo of it, lingering as if my skin has memorized his touch.

His fingers dip beneath the top of my shorts again. “Am I gonna find anything down here I’m not gonna like?”

What?I can’t find my voice to reply. There seems to be something blocking my throat.

His fingers descend.

He wouldn’t . . .

Oh, my heavens . . . he would . . .

The tips of his fingers caress the ridge of my panties first. They slide under the edge. Go down. Brush over my mound. I dig my fingernails into the wall, hoping it will help me hold on to my sanity. Now heavy with desire, my breath rebounds off the wall in front of me. Angry wasps beat their wings wildly in my chest.

I swallow the massive thickness in my throat. “I’m not hiding anything down there, I swear.”

He stops before he can feel what he’s done to me.

Thank god.

“I guess I’ll find out soon enough then, huh?”

My core clenches tightly at his words and what he means to do.