Page 110 of Fire

If I ever needed a sign that this is the girl of my dreams, she reaches up and places her hand on top of mine, the one in her hair, and meets my gaze. She relaxes her throat and gives the faintest hint of a nod.

Permission.

I don’t belittle her decision by asking if she’s sure. The trust we’ve built between us is strong enough that I know when she asks for something, it’s because she truly wants it.

Not because she’s trying to please me.

I tighten my grip on her hair, and I thrust into her.

She moans. “Baby, you’ve got to be quiet,” I tell her as I pick up speed. It doesn’t help the noise issue.

But when I see that hand between her legs relentlessly rubbing her clit, I lose the ability to care. She’s so fucking turned on, she’s practically humping her hand. Her hips are spread wide, her pussy on full display as she grinds herself against her fingers.

If her dad does kill me, at least I’ll have this image to take to my grave.

Her movements start to get sloppy, and then, like a tidal wave cresting onto the shore, she comes. Her body vibrates, and I feel her deep moan around my cock. It’s so intense that seconds later, I feel my stomach clench. My balls tighten, and then I’m spilling down her throat, murmuring her name as I watch in awe as she takes every single drop.

Chapter Thirty-Two

HENDRIX

It’s just past six in the morning when I sneak out of the guest room in search of coffee. The house is still quiet, but I spotted a Keurig in the kitchen yesterday, so I think I can get away with making myself a cup without waking anyone.

I tiptoe down the hall and around the corner to the small kitchen. Zara’s parents’ house sort of reminds me of my own. It’s smaller and a bit rough around the edges, but the outdated appliances and worn furniture give it a homey feeling that mine lacks.

The decades’ worth of family photos lining the walls don’t hurt either.

I make my way to the counter in the corner and grab one of the K-Cups from the container next to the coffeemaker. I consider making a cup for Zara, but it’s still early. The spa day we arranged for Zara and her mom doesn’t start until ten, so there is still plenty of time before she needs to be out the door.

And besides, she deserves her sleep after…

“Good morning, Hendrix.”

“Jesus!” I stop myself, but not before I jump a solid two feet in the air at the sound of Jon Valentine’s voice behind me.Okay, maybe it’s only a couple of inches, but my heart definitely malfunctions a little.

Turning, I find him standing there, looking exactly as he did the day before, wearing a pair of Levi’s, a plaid shirt, and a baseball cap.

Did he sleep in that?

“We aren’t religious in this house.” He smirks. Or at least I think it’s a smirk. Is it more like a barely there curve? “Feel free to use the Lord’s name in vain at your leisure. However, if you meet Zara’s grandmother, it would probably be wise to refrain. I learned that the hard way.”

“Noted.”

An awkward silence fills the air. I stare at a painting of a blue jay that hangs on the wall just to the left of him, wishing I had taken the time to put on jeans. It feels strange to stand here in his kitchen when he’s dressed for the day, and I’m still bumming it in my pajamas.

He moves to the counter, and before I can understand what he’s doing, he picks up the K-Cup I dropped and places it in the machine.

“Thanks,” I say, still feeling awkward. I’m not used to silence. It wasn’t exactly the norm growing up with four siblings. But I appreciate the need for it when the world might feel too loud. So I sit in it. And I wait. Eventually, when my coffee finishes brewing and he hands me a mug, he speaks.

When he does, my heart dies a little.

“It’s a hard thing to watch your daughter fall for the wrong man.” He strides purposefully to the fridge, retrieves a small carton of cream, and sets it on the counter beside me. I gaze at it, swallowing hard.

How can he expect me to drink coffee after a bomb like that?

He takes a bowl of sugar from the cabinet above me and sets it next to the cream. “I knew from the very first moment I met him that he was all wrong for her.”

Him? Wait. Is he not talking about me? My heart rate starts to level out.