Page 37 of Wild Fire

I’m not okay.

I’m a fucking goner.

It takes everything I have to steel my shattering resolve and steady my voice. I feel like I might break into a million pieces right now.

A million, beautiful, fractured pieces.

“Fine,” I say, clearing my throat as I move off of him and back away as quickly as I can so he can’t see me break, or the mess he’s made of me.

I don’t miss the look of concern on his face, or flushed cheeks, and I shouldn’t look down at his crotch, but apparently I don’t have any self control left, if I had any at all, because I do look. And when I do, I feel a strange sense of pride, knowing that the wet spot on his jeans is because of me. Because I made him lose control, too, and something about that feels hotter than anything I’ve ever done.

But there’s also a sense of concern and preservation as I realize I can not let him walk around like this, especially at this hour.

I hold one hand up, my dom voice solidifying once more.

“Don’t fucking move.”

Nate blinks, his pupils dilated again, his lips kiss-swollen from mine, and I half expect him to disobey me, but he doesn’t move.

I grab my firehouse hoodie from the backseat, and when I return to Nate, he’s still standing where I left him, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

I offer him the hoodie.

“What—”

“Take it,” I say, nodding to his evident pleasure.

Nate carefully takes it from my hand, his fingers brushing mine.

“Thanks,” he says, his voice careful.

I nod, swallowing hard.

There’s a million and one things I could say, starting with I’m sorry.

I should not have kissed him.

Fuck, I should not have even gotten out of this fucking car, I—

He’s probably going to think I’m an asshole for sure, now.

Bossing him around, forcing him up against the side of my truck and…

“See you around, Bright Eyes,” I grunt, forcing myself to look anywhere but at his face. I can’t look at him, knowing the truth.

I lost control with Nate Barrett, and it can never happen again.

“See ya,” he says, his voice fading into the shadows as he pulls my jacket on.

I hate that he looks so fucking good in it. But I also love how fucking good he looks in it, and how the sight makes my heart skip a beat.

Which is why I have to stay as far away from Nate Barrett as possible.

Chapter Twelve

Nate

I stare up at the burned remains behind the bright yellow caution tape and take a deep breath.