Page 55 of Living with Fire
“By the time I broke the next glass,” she says, voice thick with the emotion I see reflected in her eyes, “he’d learned what really broke me.”
I don’t want to know. I really fucking don’t.
But I need to. I need to know the worst. I need to know how badly this asshole hurt her, and how badly I’m going to fuck him up if I ever meet him. Not that it matters right now.
The only thing that matters is Savanna, and how hard this all must be for her. Despite what this guy did to her, she’s opening up to me, letting me in, and I’m grateful to her for it. The vulnerability she’s showing me has my chest squeezing with tenderness for her. She’s trusting in me not to take any of this information and use it against her.
Every day I have to go out and trust my brothers with my life while they put their trust in me. Trust is sacred to me, and I would do nothing to break it intentionally.
I turn on my stool and reach out, hesitantly at first, but when she doesn’t flinch away, I run my thumb along her cheek, brushing away another tear that falls. “What did he do?”
Her lip trembles, almost making me regret pushing her for the answer. She angles towards me, our knees brushing, mine on the outside of hers. It’s making it harder to stay on my stool and not envelop her in my arms, especially when she can no longer meet my eyes, casting hers down between us.
There’s a long moment of hesitation, then, barely audible, she whispers, “Locked me in the basement.”
“Fuck.” The word is a harsh exhale whooshing from my lungs like I’ve just been gut punched. Squeezing my eyes shut, I recall how just a few hours ago I commented about locking her in the office. The way she looked at me after, white as a ghost, had little to do with the fire, though I don’t doubt the little room I found her in did her any favors.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. I triggered her. I put her right back into the moment with her ex. Me. I did that. By telling her a part of me should have kept her locked in the office. How does that make me any better than her fucking ex?
Hands are suddenly at my face, pressing against my cheeks. As though she can read my mind she says, “You are not him.”
My eyes flash open and I grit my teeth together, ready to argue with her. I should be the one comforting her right now, not the other way around. But she sees my protest before I can say a word.
“Nate, you are not him.” Her voice is unexpectedly confident, full of life that had been sucked dry while she told her story. Warmth is pressing in close to me, and I realize that she’s standing between my legs, having come off her stool.
Christ, I need this. Need her close. Need to know she’s okay, that she’s still here with me. Which is asinine considering all she went through, and I only had to witness it through her eyes. But I need to know I didn’t do irreparable damage with my comment earlier.
“You are kind, and good, and thoughtful,” Savanna says to me, her fingertips fluttering along both sides of my jaw.
My hands rest on my thighs, but at the brush of her fingers on my face, they slide over my jeans until they’re gently grasping her hips. “Stop.”
“No,” she whispers, her hair dancing along her collarbones and shoulders as her head shakes. “You gave me everything when I had nothing. You’ve been my hope, and my joy. In the last week you’ve made me feel safer and more protected than I’ve felt in years.”
Her gray eyes, now clear of old memories, peer up at me, imploring me to believe what she’s saying. “You’ve made me realize that there are still good people in this world, and you’ve surrounded me with them. You’ve opened your world up to me and made me want things I didn’t think I had any business wanting again.”
Snaking my hands around her, I press them into the small of her back, pulling her flush to my body. My pulse, which quickened with every word she spoke, is now hammering in my veins. She’s making it extremely difficult to keep my control because I suddenly find myself in a position I’ve been in before—on the verge of kissing this woman.
My voice is gruff when I ask, “What do you want?”
“You, Nate,” she breathes, the pads of her fingers pressing into my jaw. “I want you.”
Perhaps I should think of why this moment is happening. Maybe I should consider if it’s because I’m the only one that has offered her comfort. But I can’t.
Her words are my undoing. The thin thread I had on my control snaps with her admission, and before I can think about it, my mouth is on hers.
Soft and warm, her lips are pliable beneath mine. My kiss isn’t rough, but I’m not gentle either. And when that first little gasp of a moan slips past her lips to mine, I know only one thing.
Nothing is ever again going to be the same in my world.
CHAPTER 20
SAVANNA
Nate’s lips are moving against mine with a need that I feel deep in my bones. My body is full of butterflies, swarming so hard my head is dizzy with them. I’m positive if Nate were to put a hand between my legs right now, he would feel the wetness through my jean shorts. He’s taken me from zero to sixty in three seconds flat, solely from his kiss.
Sexual tension has been building between us all week. Tonight alone we’ve been ready to attack each other more than once. But I wouldn’t have imagined I’d be primed and ready after the conversation we just had.
He was so sweet. So gentle and undemanding. Allowing me to tell him in my own time, and in my own way. I hadn’t meant to give him all the sordid details, but when the words started to come out, I was helpless to stop them. They’ve been bottled up for so long. The weight of them pressing into me, some days making it hard to breathe.