Page 62 of Burning Ember

I blink.What? Is he messing with me?I raise an eyebrow and pull the bag closer to me. “Uh . . . is that a trick question?”

His eyebrows pull together and his mouth quirks. “No, why would it be?”

“Right. Mmmm. Maybe because you get off on making me do disgusting things.”Oh my God. Did that really just come out of my mouth?As the words roll through my mind a second time, humor lights up his eyes. A knowing and naughty smile appears, and I can tell he’s trying and failing to stifle his reaction to my words and what they insinuate.

I feel like I just got hit with a pillow. Because poof. Something just exploded in, over, and around my head. Feathers? Brain cells? I’m not sure.

Mav + sexy smile = my mind has officially been blown.

He leans toward me. And I realize three feet became two and then one. His gaze comes back to my face and his eyes center on my lips. As he grabs the top of the bag, our fingers brush. A zing shoots up my body and travels through my limbs.

His eyes flicker down at the contact. Um, yeah. He’s right there. The smell of him surrounds me. I cling to the smell of his soap and cologne and try to dismiss the smell of tobacco. I watch the muscles in his shoulder and neck work as he pulls the bag to him. He looks back up. His jaw . . . his mouth is . . . right . . . there. . . .

And I’m a statue. Except, I feel the need to lick my lips because they are so dry.Parched.

His nostrils flare and a second later, he backs up a bit and speaks. It’s a little fuzzy though. My eyes are watching his lips move, but I’ll be damned if my ears can make out the words.

“Huh?”

“I got it.”

His pulls the bag from my grip, still smirking.

“Oh, right. Um . . . thanks.”

He straightens, turns, and walks away. I watch him go, unable to pull my eyes away from the sight of him. The muscles of his back. His butt. Right before he turns the corner, he looks back at the last second. Our eyes meet as he disappears out of sight.

Holy hell . . . who in the hell was that?

Jeez, talk about a mercurial being. He keeps swinging like a pendulum back and forth, hot and cold, hateful and now . . . almost nice. From one to the other.

That was not Luce, the asshole who wakes me up each morning by kicking the bed and bouncing me on Dozer’s mattress.

I think this might have been a glimpse of the real Mav. The one he used to be. Is this the guy I saw in the photo in his office? And if so, where did he come from? More importantly, how do I get him to stick around full time?

“Hey, there you are,” Lily says from behind me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you. Come on. Come in and see what I bought you today.” She has an ear-to-ear smile and she’s waving me into the house.

“Lily, you didn’t have to buy me anything. I’m only here for a few more days.”

Her smile slips a little. “Unless you decide to stay.”

I turn and look behind me one more time. Making sure Mav isn’t at my back. “That choice is not entirely in my hands. And even if it were, I’m not sure it’s what’s best for me.”

In the height of fear, our true emotions betray us.

EMBER

“Shit. She’s gone.” Taz storms into the main room. His hands threaded into his hair, making it stick out in wild, crazy spikes. He whirls around and his eyes scan the room. “Have any of you seen her?”

“Damn it! I thought you got that latch fixed, man.” Rigor’s eyes widen and he immediately starts to look down at the floor and around his feet. He pulls his feet up and places them on the stool rung.

“I did, but . . . shit . . . I don’t know how the fuck she’s gettin’ out.” Taz sounds pained. He strides across the room and grabs cushions off the couch. He hurls them to the floor. “She likes warm places. This is where she was last time.” After a second, he looks around at all of us. “Don’t just sit there. Get your asses up and help me! She’s got to be around here somewhere.”

“Count me out, man. There is no damn way I’m gettin’ near that thing.” This comes from Rigor who visibly shudders as he speaks to Taz.

“You’ll do what the fuck I tell ya. Or for the next three months, I’ll ride ya like a two dollar whore and vote nay on your ass,” Taz snarls.

Begrudgingly Rigor stands and begins helping Taz tear apart the couches.