From The Flames (Innocent Series Book 3)

by Kendall Duke

  Her eyes widened even more, and the effect was almost comical. “Why?”

  “Why?” It was my turn to stare at her in disbelief. “Are you serious?”

  “Well, I mean…” Darcy licked her lips, and that small gesture, more than anything else, brought me back to my body—the eruption of desire that blasted through me shook me down to my bones, snapping through the adrenaline of anger like a river of cold water. Goddamn, was she beautiful. “I guess I haven’t even…” Strangely, she laughed a little bit then, and it made her even prettier, if that was possible. “I haven’t gotten to that stage. I’ve been so mad at myself.”

  “For what?” I must have looked funny, because she laughed again when she saw my face.

  “For falling for it,” she said, and then the happiness left her face. “For being so foolish, so naïve.”

  “For trusting him?”

  She nodded, then looked down at her lap again.

  I couldn’t stand it. I couldn’t. I could handle anger, vengeance, smiting, all that good stuff, but I couldn’t watch her be mad at herself for this. Before I could stop myself I’d spun her chair towards mine and lifted her out of it, pulled her body onto my lap and wrapped my arms so tightly around her that I could feel every curve, every inch, as I breathed in the soot and vanilla scent of her hair. “Don’t do this to yourself,” I whispered, “please. Don’t be mad at yourself for doing what people should be able to do—it’s not wrong to trust the guy you’re dating. You didn’t do anything wrong. Nothing. You don’t deserve what happened and you sure as hell don’t deserve to be punished for being decent.” Her shoulders shook just a little bit as she absorbed my words, tears that had probably been waiting for ages taking over and finally breaking free as I held her. We stayed like that for a while, the minutes creeping by, the sound of the night outside wafting in through the open window, her cries so silent I couldn’t tell when they’d ended. When she was done I felt her shift, and loosened my grip; I couldn’t bear to let her go, though. Darcy leaned back and looked up at me, her smoky eyes ringed with drying tears, and I felt myself falling in to her gaze, trapped in time as I stared at her perfect face. I could’ve probably stayed just like that for an age.

  But I didn’t.

  Because she kissed me.

  ~~~

  Darcy

  I have a confession to make.

  I’ve kissed five people. And four of them were very nice guys, who gave very nice kisses.

  And not a single one of them could have prepared me for what I felt when my lips met Michael Valentine’s.

  I’d lived through a fire, through abuse and stalking, through abandonment. I’d lived through fear and triumph and excitement and I’d felt strong and smart and free, I’d been someone prior to all this and I knew hope and I found it again in the moment before I’d kissed him.

  But I’d still never felt anything like this.

  This was… Eternity.

  This was forever.

  Michael Valentine was an acquaintance, at best—an incredibly kind one, compassionate, super smart and brave beyond believing and absolutely the handsomest man on the planet—but we were still working on a friendship. We’d only just met.

  But my soul did not care.

  When I kissed him, I felt that pull in my chest and realized it was my heart. Yanking, struggling, rushing to meet him. Opening for him, just like my body wanted to. When I kissed Mike, I could feel the shell of my being crack open and beg to be full of him—of his touch, of his love.

  It was terrifying.

  It was everything.

  ~~~

  Mike

  I love kissing. I imagine, being that I’m generally a jack-ass and kind of a goof-ball and whatever else that it would be easy to imagine in the sack I’m a hit-it-and-quit-it kind of guy. I’m not. I like to linger, actually, and although I’m definitely leaving through the door I came in and everybody involved knows the deal before we even walk through it, I like to enjoy my time with a woman. I take my time with a woman.

  And this girl…

  Goddamn. Goddamn, goddamn.

  I could spend years making love to Darcy. Years. No sleep, no food, nothing but sex, nothing but her, on her back with those long, shapely thighs spread while I suck every inch of the pink center of her body, just Darcy, riding me while she cries from feeling me so deep inside, Darcy again, underneath me, her chest slowly coloring with excitement while I fuck her so hard her beautiful hair crashes back and forth like waves, chestnut waves, as I cum so far inside of her I plant a baby there, a baby that marks her as mine forever, and ever, and ever.

  These are not the typical thoughts I have when I kiss a girl.

  This is the fever dream I had to yank myself out of when I kissed Darcy—just Darcy, a girl I hadn’t known for more than a couple hours, a girl whose last name I’d never heard spoken out loud.

  Darcy. Jesus.

  “Darcy,” I heard myself say, and it didn’t sound like my own voice—it sounded haunted. I had to rip myself back to reality, and fast, because this was also a girl that had lived through so much there was no way in hell she wanted what I wanted right now—she didn’t want me filling her up, opening her, giving her myself while I took her completely. That was not where Darcy was, no matter that the kiss we’d just shared… I looked down at her and said her name again, and it sounded just like a prayer. “Darcy.”

  Neither of us said anything for a long moment.

  I slowly started to notice what we’d done during the kiss. My hands were completely entwined in her hair, tendrils rolled around my fingers like I was trying to get caught. She was straddling me, God help us both, her legs spread wide over my lap, the red-hot center of her body pushed against the rock-hard center of mine. There was still fabric between us, her poor night-gown scarcely hanging on and my Carhartt’s thankfully thick enough to stop any actual penetration… But only barely. Darcy’s soft hands were on the back of my neck, stroking my skin, so gently and so naturally I couldn’t imagine that they weren’t always there, spreading that tingle over my body. And there was her chest. Right there. Smashed right against mine. Her nipples were stiff little reminders that yes, this happened, this was real, and this was probably not the best idea but goddamn, goddamn did it feel good.

  “Darcy, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to—”

  “Stop,” she whispered, and then she leaned towards me and I swear to God she was about to kiss me again—the whole thing, the whole incredible thing was about to start again, Darcy pressed against me in nothing but the thinnest, most rippable cotton I’ve ever seen, the thing was basically trash anyway, I would be doing her a favor, really, if I just tore it, right here, and then pulled it off and sweet Jesus, then I could touch her, I could kiss her shoulder-- She froze.

  “Darcy?” I froze too. Something on her face startled me; she looked… Afraid. And then defiant.

  “I’m a virgin,” she said.

  ~~~

  Darcy

  I waited for what felt like an eternity, watching Mike’s face as he absorbed what I said. I couldn’t do this without telling him—and I had no illusions about what was going to happen if I didn’t interrupt, because I wanted it. Mike was too good to push, too kind—but my body was absolutely ravenous, starving for his, begging for something it didn’t know how to ask for. I wanted to trust him, and if we were going to be what I believed we could be, I had to tell him the truth.

  He would have told me.

  “Wait, what now?” I had to stop myself from laughing as the words finally latched onto his brain and his eyelids snapped open. “What did you—” He sputtered, and I wondered how often this man, of all men, was lost for words. “A virgin?”

  “Yes,” I said, and I could feel my shyness creeping back, the shyness that had made me easy prey for Andre and kept me apart from so many other people. But I wasn’t only shy, not now. Now I was a survivor, damn it. “Yes, I am.”

  “Okay,” Mike said, and started to shift under me.
I caught his face between my palms.

  “Don’t. Please.”

  “Don’t what?” He looked so confused. It was hilarious, and also… Endearing. I could see every conflicting thought he had, roaming around behind those gorgeous eyes.

  “Don’t pull away from me, please,” I whispered, and that seemed to settle him down. He wrapped his arms around my waist, squeezing me tightly, and nuzzled my throat in a way that made heat pool in my belly.

  “I… I’m not sure what to do,” he said softly, then kissed the hollow of my throat. His voice was husky. My toes curled. “I want… You must know what I want.” Mike’s eyes met mine, their lidded expression clearly conveying lust. I nodded. “I… Should I give you some time? Set you down? You’ve had a hell of a night,” he said, still studying my face. “I just don’t want to be an asshole, Darcy. Not to you.”

  “Then ask me what I want,” I said, and once again I could almost see his thoughts, as clearly as if they were my own, rollicking behind those eyes.

  “Darcy—”

  And then the phone rang. And not in a subtle, maybe-I-can-ignore-this kind of way, but a wailing, thumping, vibrating screech that completely ruined the mood. I couldn’t do anything but lean back and suppress a giggle at the total annoyance on Mike’s face. He leaned over and looked at it, though, and then his expression changed. “Go ahead,” I said, because I could see it was important.

  “Dad?” Mike’s eyes didn’t leave mine as he answered. I watched him listen, watched as it flashed with fury, then cool relief. “Thanks, Dad,” he said softly, and then an ecstatic smile lit up his face when he saw the screen. “Hey,” Mike said happily, giving me a grin, “my friend Tony just had a baby. Healthy baby girl, named her Anna.”

  “Nice name,” I said, waiting for the real news. Mike bit his lip and looked at me, his head cocked slightly to the side as the smile slid off of his face and he turned the phone off before laying it on the table.

  “Your ex. His name happen to be Andre Devers?”

  “Yes,” I said, and suddenly my heart was in my throat. “What—how—”

  “He’s been arrested,” Mike said evenly, letting me process the words slowly. “It seems like your friend, Alice, was walking to work when she noticed this well-dressed guy ducking down an alley. She followed him and saw him start the fire at your place.” I sucked in a breath so suddenly, so sharply—I felt like I was drowning for a second. Mike held me close, waiting. When I recovered, he looked down at me, his eyes clear and peaceful. “Got burned a bit; happens a lot with arsonists. Luckily it makes them easy to find. Alice saved everyone in that building when she called us, and then she went with the police down to the station and told them what she saw. Detectives just picked him up at County General.” Mike watched as my shoulders sagged with release—it was over. Oh my God, he could’ve killed those children… “I know what you’re thinking, and you need to let it go,” Mike said quietly. “No one got hurt. Now that it’s arson, aided by a complete fire-trap of an apartment building, that family will get a good settlement from the landlord. Alice will too. And Andre is going to do a lot of time. Attempted murder,” he said coldly, then wiped the arctic expression off of his face. “That’s you, sugar,” he whispered, nudging my chin up so we were face to face. “You lived through that. You can put him away. You’re safe.”

  I swallowed, hard. I felt bile in the back of my throat, then swallowed again.

  Freedom—I was free. I was…

  I remembered the long night we’d spent together, the things I’d felt in Mike’s arms, the things I knew in my heart.

  I’d already been free. Because of Mike. Because I lived, and because I believed my life could get better. Because of hope.

  “Is it wrong to be happy about this?” I studied his face. “Because I am. I… I felt ready to begin again, now that you…” I didn’t know how to finish, but I lucked out. Mike raised his sardonic brow.

  “You should be very happy—I am,” he said. “Now I don’t have to kill the guy.”

  I slapped his shoulder, but he just grinned down at me, his eyes emerald sparks. I leaned back to look him over, and slowly, the moment extended. I felt his body beneath mine, the long, strong legs, the hard muscles of his thighs, and other things… I ran my fingers across the width of his shoulders, feeling the strength and heat beneath them. When my eyes met his again, there was something in his gaze that made my heartrate jump.

  “Where were we?” His voice was almost a growl.

  “You were going to ask me a question,” I whispered, and licked my lips.

  ~~~

  Mike

  I let my eyes wander over her for the first time with no restraint, no holding back, letting her see me take her in. The creep of a flush on her chest as her breasts rose and fell, her breath coming faster and faster. The swell of those hips, promising an ass ripe as fruit and hips made for holding. Those lips—goddamn, those lips. I could spend an hour just on those.

  I felt my desire for her like an ache—a growing, swollen ache, beginning in my balls and ending somewhere on the edges of my soul. This girl… sweet Jesus, this girl. The things I would do to you, if you only said the word.

  “Darcy,” I whispered, my lips inches from hers, “do you want to—”

  “Yes,” she said, and my mouth was on her.

  I shredded that nightgown. An unfamiliar, sentimental part of me wondered if I should keep it as some kind of token of our first night together, but then my hunger took over and there was barely any of it left. In its place… Darcy.

  “Fuck,” I said, and I couldn’t for the life of me think of a better word.

  Darcy’s skin was the color of vanilla ice cream, just like her scent. Her nipples were delicious little buttons of palest pink, resting on the very tips of breasts that looked almost too heavy for her lithe frame. Her hips were broad, the swell of her belly sloping down to a perfectly formed triangle of the same chestnut hair on her head, a thatch of downy chocolate silk. When she saw me looking at her so openly, she flushed a delicate peach, and the aroma of her pussy got a tiny bit stronger. I turned her on. Just by looking at her.

  “You’re fucking perfect,” I heard myself mutter, half to myself, and then my mouth was determined to explore that perfect body, every delectable vanilla scented inch of her.

  “How… How do we do this?” Her giant smoky eyes were wider than ever. I tipped her head back so I could begin tasting her lips, answering her question with my tongue. I felt her gasp as it slid inside, gently exploring her mouth while my hands began to tease her below. I held her upright on my lap with the expanse of my left hand, spreading from the very top of her ass up her spine, so that when she arched—yeah, just like that—I was supporting her. Darcy moaned as my other hand traced slow, heated trails over her satin skin, slipping over one creamy thigh, quickly dipping down to tease her cleft, then running up and over her belly and cupping her breast. She began to respond more, growing hotter, and I sucked her tongue and squeezed her nipple, feeling her legs open involuntarily in response. She was so open, so ready. But I wanted her to tell me that, to have her take ownership of what was about to happen.

  Because I knew something I couldn’t say yet.

  Once I was inside of this body, I wouldn’t leave.

  I might go physically, sure—a man had to eat. And I might even need to sleep once in a while. But I was realizing something fundamental about our connection: I needed Darcy. I needed her in my bed, my life, my heart. If she let me, I would stay with her forever.

  I felt her opening even more, arching into my hand, and slid a finger inside. She moaned my name, her voice the sweetest thing I’d ever heard, and I let her ride it for a minute, her tight little pussy so ready and so wet it made me pant. I gritted my teeth and slid them down the column of her throat, feeling her shiver as I slid another finger inside and seized her nipple with my mouth. She was bent so far back now that my hand was the only thing keeping her aloft. I sucked the hard little bud until
she squirmed, her body slick with want, and then, suddenly she sat up. Darcy grabbed my head with both of her hands and forced my eyes up to meet hers.

  “Please, Mike,” she said. Her eyes were the color of ash. The fire was inside of her now.

  I nodded, taking her mouth in mine again as I worked myself free from my pants. I’m not bragging when I say I’m a big guy. I’m big all over; I’m just proportionate. I gently rearranged her so that she was straddling me, her hips elevated over my cock as I cupped her ass and she placed her weight on her arms, leaning on my shoulders. She looked down and gulped.

  “Oh boy,” she said softly, then stared at me. “Mike… Is this going to hurt?”

  “Yep,” I said, and kissed her mouth. “But you don’t have—”

  “Do I just… How do I do it?” She was nervous. It was so sweet, so heart-rending, that I pushed her back for a second. It took me a minute to stop kissing her and speak.

  “Darcy, I know you’re the kind of person that just muscles through things, but there’s no rush,” I said, and before I could stop myself I showed her the truth of that statement by nibbling on her lips while she moaned. But then she touched me. Her delicate little hands reached down and felt my girth, slid around the tangle at my base, and I grunted, feeling it so deep in my gut that it made me shake. “Then again,” I growled, and hoisted her up. She giggled, her arms wrapped around my neck, then slid down my front, her breasts rubbing me through the fabric of my shirt.

  “Maybe we can undo these,” she whispered, fumbling with my buttons, and I grabbed the collar and just whipped it over my head. The she was looking at me the way I’d looked at her, her eyes taking all of me in as her hands skimmed my skin with a feather-light touch that made me groan. “I’m ready, I think,” she said, looking into my eyes. I held her there for a moment, drinking in this last minute as strangers.

  “After this, I’m not going to be able to let you go,” I whispered. “Can you feel it? This thing between us?”