Let It Burn (A BBW Paranormal Erotic Romance) (9 page)

BOOK: Let It Burn (A BBW Paranormal Erotic Romance)
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She was so caught up in her musings that the pounding on the door caught her by surprise.  The minute her concentration wavered, however, she felt Kevin as if he were already in the room with her.  His anxiety, guilt and general confusion created a dull roar, and Jo was amazed that it had taken her so long to sense it.

She moved slowly to the door that faced the back parking lot and shot the locks.  Standing in the opening she faced Kevin, taking in the golden beauty of his face and hair, the stormy, troubled blue eyes.  Vaguely she thought that she’d so rarely seen those eyes clear and sparkling.  Like the
Great Lake whose color they mimicked, they were almost always turbulent.

She didn’t think she could handle another apology, another scene, so she spoke before he could, hoping to avoid more and worse heartbreak.

“Apology accepted, no harm no foul, you stay on your side of town and I’ll stay on mine.”  He frowned, and she forced a smile.  “Does that about cover it?”

“No,” he muttered.  “It does
not
fucking cover it.”  He scrubbed his hand over his face and shoved his hair out of his eyes.  He needed a trim, she noticed inanely.  “Look, can I come in?  We need to talk.”

He looked tired, which made sense, she supposed.  He’d fought two major fires in three days’ time, and certainly hadn’t had much time for sleep in between what with all the arguments, apologies and sex.

“Kevin, I tried to talk to you. You don’t want to hear what I have to say.”  She could tell he didn’t.  His unease was as clear as a neon sign. 

“Fine, I need to talk,” he insisted.  “Joanna,” he lifted his eyes to hers and, dammit, she was caught.  “There’s a lot you understand, but there’s just as much that you don’t.  Hell,
that
I
don’t.  I’m trying here.  Will you work with me?”

“Shit,” she muttered in disgust and turned to walk back to the storyboard, leaving the door open for him to follow her or leave as he chose.

He moved up behind her, and she shivered as his heat wrapped around her.  He was a physical man, affectionate, and after only a couple of days she found she missed the absent touches and caresses.

“That’s so cool,” he commented, reaching out a finger to trace one of the buildings she’d sketched.  “What’s this?”  He’d noticed the boy and his father, the only people she’d featured in the mural, save the firefighters who battled the blaze.

“Ask me no questions, I’ll tell you no truths,” she quipped.  The idea of another discussion about the validity of her gift made her head hurt and her heart ache.

“I want you to tell me the truth.”  He sounded sincere.  Hell, he felt sincere.  But he’d felt sincere before.

“Okay.”  She decided to go for broke. The worst that could happen was he wouldn’t believe her, and since they’d already walked that path, she really didn’t have any compelling reason to refuse to answer.  “That boy started the fire. His dad,” she indicated the man rapidly approaching the boy, “was about to catch him smoking, and he dropped the evidence up against the store.  The cigarette was still burning, and it ignited the wood siding.”  She sighed at the sad and unnecessary tragedy.  “The rest, as they say, is history.” 

“That explains so much,” he commented, causing her to lift her head in surprise.  She’d truly expected him to shut down again, refusing to believe in her gift.  Instead, he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him.  “They never conclusively proved it was arson.  In fact,” he frowned as thought lost in thought, “the story goes that the old Chief was pretty sure it was an accidental fire.  Some random spark that hit the wrong place at the wrong time.”  He nodded at the sketch.  “This makes a lot more sense.”

He looked down into her eyes, utterly sincere, and Jo waited for the other shoe to drop.

*

              For a moment there, Kevin had been sure Joanna wouldn’t let him in; sure he’d damaged their budding relationship beyond all repair.  Now, looking down into her wary brown eyes, he realized that he was going to have to risk everything, bare his fucking soul, if he wanted to keep her.

             
Keep her?  Hell, if he wanted to get her in the first place. One mind-blowing, life altering afternoon of sex didn’t mean he had her. But, dammit, he wanted it to.

             
“I’m no good at protecting the people I love,” he blurted out.  She stared at him in wide-eyed amazement, and he gave a wry smile.  “Yeah, I know.  Kevin Kryszenski, high-school football champion, magna cum laude college graduate and super firefighter.  But, Jo, when it comes to the things that really matter, the people that really matter, I’ve fucked it up every time.”

             
She shook her head and laid her hand over his heart.  “You’re talking crazy, Kevin.  You’re a care-taker down to your core.”

             
He laid his hand over hers, savoring the warmth of her touch.  “You know about the fire that killed my dad and my sister.”  It wasn’t a question, but a statement of fact.

             
“Kimmy,” she agreed.

             
“Kimberly Lynne.”  He smiled in bittersweet memory.  “Her bedroom was right by mine.  I should have got her out.  I
could
have got her out if I hadn’t spent so much time hiding in my bedroom.”  He dropped his hand and turned back to her work, staring blindly at the storyboard.  “If I’d gotten her like I should have, my dad would still be alive today.  Hell,” he laughed bitterly, “my mom would probably still be here, too.”

             
“You don’t really believe this.”  She ducked around him, staring up into his face and forcing him to meet her eyes.  “Kevin, that’s insane.  You were twelve years old!  If you hadn’t gotten out when you did, you would have died in that fire, too!”

             
“Jo, you don’t understand.”  He speared his hand through his hair, mussing it into golden spikes.  “I was
right there. 
I was there before my dad, before anyone.  I could hear her crying.”  His own voice was rough, he realized, ravaged by the tears he didn’t deserve to shed.  “If I’d gone to her first, before worrying about myself, I could have got us both out.  My dad wouldn’t have had to go after her.”  He closed his eyes, shutting out the liquid compassion he saw in hers.  “My mom would have been happy, whole.  Her body may have lived another ten years, but her spirit died that night, too.”  He squeezed his lids tight against the unthinkable sting of tears and remembered smoke.  “I let my entire family die that night, Joanna.  I didn’t want you to see that.  And I’m terrified I’ll let you down, too.”

*

              Jo felt her heart break a little more with each of Kevin’s words.  She bled inside for the boy who’d tried so hard to save his family, only to lose everything.  She wanted to weep for the young man faced with a mother’s unspoken resentment.  She couldn’t read minds, but she could feel as clear as crystal that his mother had blamed Kevin for his father’s and sister’s deaths, and that blame had only deepened Kevin’s guilt and shame.  Finally, her soul ached for the man standing before her, so alone, so convinced that he
had
to be alone, that no one he loved was safe in his care.

             
“Kevin.”  She reached up, cupping his face, tracing her thumbs over his strong cheekbones, savoring the light rap of his afternoon beard on her palms.  “If you responded to a fire like the one at your house, and there was another boy who couldn’t get to his sister or dad, would you blame him for their deaths?”  He shook his head trying to pull away from her, but she wouldn’t let him go.

             
“It’s not the same thing,” he rasped.

             
“It’s exactly the same thing,” she argued.  “It was a terrible tragedy.  But Kevin, you were a child.  You aren’t responsible for it.”

             
He finally opened his eyes.  They pierced her, wet and storm swept.  She could feel him struggling, wanting to believe her.  Aching for a surcease of the guilt and pain.  The very fact that he wanted to believe was a huge stride in the right direction. 

             
Going with impulse Jo stepped into him, pressing against his tense, vibrating body; letting her softness melt into his strained hardness.  She believed, she had to believe, that in time Kevin would forgive himself.  That he’d learn to trust himself.  She had to believe this because she was very much afraid she’d fallen in love with him, and she desperately needed him to be whole and happy.

             
  “Oh, Kevin,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hands.  He blew out a rough breath and dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers.  She moved slowly, softly, pressing kisses to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his closed eyelids.  With each gentle caress she felt his tension melt a little, until he angled his head just so and caught her mouth with his own.

*

              Ambrosia.  She tasted like honey and cinnamon and sweet, sweet woman, and Kevin didn’t think he’d ever get enough.  Somehow she’d seen to the dark, frozen core of his soul and it hadn’t disgusted her.  And in the light of her acceptance, it disgusted him a little less, too.

             
He let himself imagine for a moment a future with Joanna.  Days unnumbered, basking in the warmth of her smile.  Children with his eyes and her hair.  The family he’d never believed he deserved.

             
Maybe, just maybe, with this woman he could have it all.

             
She made a low, humming sound against his lips, and he took the kiss deeper, drowning in her taste, her scent.  He plundered her mouth and moaned when her wicked little tongue licked at his before drawing it in to suckle.  Each light tug of her lips on his tongue reverberated in his balls, maddening him.

             
Never freeing her lips, he bent his knees and wrapped his arm around her thighs, just under the mouthwatering curve of her ass. Straightening, he lifted her, holding her level with him, making it easier still to devour those honeyed lips.

             
She moaned into his mouth, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him in even closer.  He boosted one hand under her generous ass, kneading the firm globes.  She moaned again, wrapping her leg around his thigh and pressing tighter, grinding the soft cushion of her pussy into the aching length of his cock.

             
Everything about her was soft and giving.  He slid his free hand under the soft, thin cotton of her t-shirt, and explored the satiny length of her spine, as she wound her hands through his hair, holding him in a kiss that was rapidly spinning utterly out of control.

             
Kevin tore his lips from hers and they both panted, dragging in desperately needed oxygen.  Her eyes met his and held him captive.  Who knew brown eyes could burn with an incandescent flame?  Who knew brown eyes could pierce a man straight through to his soul?

             
Bending his head, he drew his tongue along the sharp curve of her jaw.  She tasted of everything good, and he needed more.  More of the fire he saw in her eyes, more of the honey of her mouth.  More of her.  He wanted to bathe in her flame, come out renewed.

             
He followed the line of her jaw until he was nuzzling into the wild curls behind her ear.  She murmured and wriggled closer, grinding her soft little pussy against the iron bar of his cock. 

             
“You like that?”  It was purely rhetorical.  If she liked it any more, she’d be flat out climbing his body.

             
He flicked his tongue against the tender skin behind her ear, reveling in her strangled breaths and the uncontrolled writhing of her body.  Opening his mouth wide, he pressed wet, nipping kisses down the length of her throat.  God, vampires had the right idea, he thought.  He saw her long, elegant neck and wanted nothing more than to sink his teeth in and claim her.

             
She was raking her fingers through his hair, dragging her nails over his scalp, and the sensation sent a shiver down his spine. 

             
Sucking in a deep breath he released her, but only enough to tug the t-shirt over her head.  Then he had to stand for a moment and just look at her. Her full, luscious breasts were cradled in a lacy white bra that seemed to offer them up to him like some sort of virginal gift. Her belly curved, all creamy softness, to the low-riding waist band of her jeans. She was un-fucking-believably gorgeous.

*

              If she’d been any other woman, Jo knew, Kevin’s rapt gaze would have made her self-conscious or uncomfortable.  But Jo had her gift, and Kevin’s approval and lust all but singed her skin.

             
She let him look for a while, but it didn’t take long for her to get restless, to miss his touch.

             
“Your turn,” she told him, grasping the hem of his t-shirt.  He obligingly raised his arms and together they worked it over his head and she tossed it aside.

             
“God, Kevin,” she breathed out.  “You are the most amazingly beautiful man I’ve ever seen.” 

He blushed!  Dark red streaks slashed his cheekbones and he averted his eyes, muttering, “Men aren’t beautiful.”

BOOK: Let It Burn (A BBW Paranormal Erotic Romance)
10.48Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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