Enflame

by S. Layne

  I chuckle, trying to fight the insane attraction between us.

  “What would you say if I told you that Cassandra is no longer an issue and that papers are signed, sealed, and we are officially divorced?”

  I shoot him an incredulous look. I’d say I want to jump him, have my wicked way with him right here on his couch—but I don’t believe him.

  Three days ago he said two weeks.

  Finding humor in my silence, he presses a kiss against my forehead, his hands move to my hips, and then I’m being lifted, twisted, and set down on the couch next to him.

  “I’ll be right back.”

  He pushes off the couch and disappears down the hall.

  He quickly returns, leaving me barely any time to consider what he said about Cassandra.

  A manila envelope is in one hand and he smacks it playfully against the palm of the other.

  I stand up. “What is that?”

  “The reason I wasn’t able to answer your calls this weekend.” He flicks his wrist, and I can see the stamp of a law firm on the upper left corner.

  My brow furrows. “Jensen Rhodes is your new lawyer?”

  “You know him?”

  “Not really,” I mutter quietly, my thumb sliding over the envelope and its brass clasp on the back when I turn it over. “He used to be James’s boss.”

  “James worked for Rhodes?”

  I nod, somehow feeling that if I open it, I’ll be intruding on a relationship that’s none of my business.

  “Yeah, before he and Laurie moved back to Ann Arbor. From what I know, Jensen is a master. He’s wicked and evil and does anything he needs to do—some things not always aboveboard—to make his clients happy.”

  “Well, he made this client thrilled when he discovered in the course of a matter of days that Cassandra has been unfaithful for the last two years with the CFO of her father’s company.”

  I pull a face—disgust mixed with shock.

  Donovan doesn’t look like he cares.

  “I’m sorry,” I tell him, and he throws his head back and laughs.

  “I couldn’t care less about Cassandra and what she does. But…her actions violate the prenup she signed, and technically she should be walking away from this marriage with nothing. In order to get her to sign the papers over the weekend, I promised not to go public with her indiscretions, and I’m giving her five million dollars to leave me alone.”

  I look at him, see that he’s looking at me, and then he glances down at my hands on the envelope. “Aren’t you going to open it?”

  It’s tempting. Five million dollars is a shock, and a part of me wants proof.

  I thumb the clasp, feeling the rigid metal dig into the pads of my fingers before I toss it to the coffee table next to me.

  “No.” If I want to move on with Donovan, I need the past to not matter. I need to trust him.

  His eyes gleam with wicked intent, and like a slick, smooth panther, he is in front of me before I can blink.

  His arms wrap around my waist and he pulls me to him, sliding one hand up until he’s clasping the back of my neck and searing his lips to mine in a scorching kiss.

  I relax into him immediately. His touch and his taste enflames every nerve in my body until I feel completely consumed…

  Completely taken by this man in front of me.

  This man who has broken my heart, and who has the ability to heal it as well.

  Pleasured moans rip from deep in his throat as he deepens the kiss, and I’m totally done for. My hands grip his shoulders and then claw at the fabric of his dress shirt, needing to feel him, needing more of him.

  And then he suddenly rips his mouth off mine, both of us gasping for breath.

  Behind us, I hear the front door slam closed and I look at Donovan.

  “Later, we’ll finish this,” he growls with his lips against mine.

  If I don’t spontaneously combust first.

  I lick my lips, tasting him on my tongue, before Jeremiah is in the room.

  “Oh God. You guys were making out, weren’t you?”

  I whip my head over my shoulder, only to see him grinning. Biting my lip, I look down to see his hands carrying a massive amount of plastic and paper bags.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling nervously.

  “You’re here.” His voice sounds hopeful. Perhaps because he’s absolutely right and Donovan and I were just making out.

  And it was delicious.

  “I am.” I nod and see his smile widen, a little bit freer than it just was.

  “She always will be.” Donovan’s voice rumbles down my spine, his intention clear as his hand snakes around my waist. It settles on my hip and he pulls me to him, my back to his chest. His erection is evident against my backside.

  I bite my lip to prevent a needy whimper from escaping my lips.

  “How was school?” I ask, trying to erase the feel and taste of Donovan from my mind. Now that Jeremiah is home, it will be hours before we can continue anything.

  A part of me is thankful for the interruption: I didn’t come here tonight to fall immediately into bed with him.

  The rest of me feels more alive than I have in possibly ever.

  He wants me.

  He loves me.

  I feel like running around the house and tossing handfuls of glitter dust into the air.

  He clearly makes me insane.

  “It was…good,” Jeremiah says. But his voice is lighter and happier than it was last night.

  “Homework?” Donovan asks.

  Jeremiah shakes his head. “No, I’m a bit ahead in most things.”

  An awkward silence fills the room before Jeremiah finally lifts his bags into the air. “I’m just going to go put these away.”

  He scuttles off before either of us can stop him, or offer him dessert…or anything.

  But when he’s gone, that awkward silence thickens into something much more pleasurable.

  “You’re in my bed tonight,” Donovan whispers into my ear.

  I can only stand frozen in my spot, nodding in agreement.

  He thrusts inside of me and my head pushes back into the pillow.

  “Yes.” My fingers cling to his shoulders as he moves.

  His weight is supported by his elbows as he pulls his hips back slowly and then pushes inside me even slower.

  “Stop teasing me,” I say with panted breath.

  His lips quirk and brush against mine. His hands frame my face tenderly.

  His sharp green eyes are intense.

  I’m in heaven.

  Waking up in Donovan’s arms only to have him roll over, his fingers working their magic before he rolled on top of me…

  “Donovan!” I cry out, my body on fire. Completely enflamed for him.

  “Give it to me, T.” His voice is a growl. Needy. Husky and filled with his own lust and desire.

  My body convulses. My thighs spread wide and my orgasm spasms through me until my entire body falls apart beneath him.

  “So beautiful,” he murmurs before his brow pinches together, his face twisted into concentration.

  His thrusts become wild.

  Fast.

  Powerful.

  I gasp and whimper as one climax quickly warms into another.

  Or one long one.

  I have no idea.

  The only thing I do know is that being with Donovan is the most erotic experience of my life.

  “Talia,” he groans, and slams his hips against mine.

  Another climax reaches its peak and his mouth seals over mine, claiming my mouth, my body, and my heart at the same time as his own orgasm takes him.

  I feel his erection, the thickness of him inside me as I clamp around him and we finish together.

  His thumbs brush my cheeks and he leans in, brushing his lips against mine one more time.

  Our hearts beat together.

  My hands roam his shoulders and his back as I catch my breath.

  I can’t pull my eyes off him.


  “You’re amazing,” I whisper, my lips against his. Our breath mingles together along with our bodies, which are wrapped in sheets.

  “I’m in love with you.”

  He says this as if it’s the reason.

  It’s not. But I take the compliment with a shy smile, my cheeks flushed from amazing sex and compliments.

  “I love you, too.” It says everything and not enough. What word is there to describe what I feel for him?

  “I want to hear those words every morning.” His breath and voice brush along my ear, his scruff tickles my overly sensitive skin.

  My eyes flash surprise. He can’t mean what I think he’s saying.

  “Donovan,” I say, warning him. Sated from sex, it lacks effectiveness.

  He silences me with a kiss, stealing my breath in the best of ways. My body shivers beneath him and when he pulls back, his grin wide and free, he states, “It’ll happen. Soon.”

  I lose the ability to argue when he rolls his hips, languidly shifting inside of me.

  “Again?” I tease, quirking a brow.

  “I wish. I have to get to work.”

  I pout. So do I. I just don’t want to leave this bed, or this moment. From the moment I climbed into his bed last night, our solitude and our lovemaking have felt like a safe haven.

  It’s given me hope that we can do this. We can be together.

  Maybe we can withstand anything.

  He taps my nose with his fingertip. I pretend to bite it, mewling as he slides out of me, feeling the loss more than just physically.

  He leans back to his knees and looks down at me, still spread wide open for him.

  “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

  I flush under his praise, my skin prickling as his hands slide up my legs, around to the back of my thighs.

  With one graceful movement he leans down, slides an arm around my back, and pulls me up and to him.

  I shriek from the suddenness of it but wrap my arms around his neck, my thighs draped over his.

  “I forgot something,” he murmurs, his cheek sliding against mine.

  “What’s that?”

  His green orbs meet my blue ones—his bright and light, as if he’s been set free from something. There’s been a playfulness with him I haven’t yet seen except for the day at the amusement park.

  Donovan stiff and serious is sexy.

  Donovan playful and free…it’s unnameable.

  “I forgot to tell you good morning,” he whispers against my lips, sliding his over mine before seductively licking them.

  I huff. He feels so good. “I think you showed me.”

  “Still.” He pulls back and frowns. “There will never come a day when I don’t want to wake up wrapped around you, seeing you happy and unburdened, where I want to forget the simple things.”

  My heart leaps to my throat.

  I’m speechless.

  “Good morning, Talia.”

  I return his carefree smile. “Good morning, Donovan.”

  He spins, taking me with him, and carries me into the bathroom before he sets me on my feet.

  “Shower?” he asks, his eyes glimmering with arousal.

  How can I say no?

  Dressed in my typical jeans, sweater, and boots combination, I drape a silk infinity scarf around my neck, grab my purse, and head downstairs. I can hear Donovan moving around the kitchen, pots and pans banging together and the muffled voices of him and Jeremiah enjoying breakfast together as I make my way through the living room.

  I stop for a moment in the doorway of the kitchen, my presence already known by the loud clacking of my chunky-heeled boots on marble.

  Two sets of male eyes, mirror images of each other, are immediately set on me where I stand, my shoulder resting on the wall.

  “Good morning.” I smile.

  Jeremiah nods before scooping a large bite of granola into his mouth. “Muh moning,” he mumbles.

  I shake my head, winking in his direction. “Boys.”

  “Men,” Donovan states, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me to him. “Not boys: men.”

  “Don’t be so offended.” I lean in and whisper in his ear so Jeremiah can’t hear. “You’ve proven your manhood.”

  “Seeing you dressed in those boots and those tight jeans, I have the sudden urge to do it again.”

  Heat creeps up my neck and I press my cheek to his shoulder. “Stop it.”

  He chuckles and rubs my back with his hand before dropping it. Grabbing my hand, he pulls me further into the kitchen. “Come eat with us.”

  “I’ll just have a yogurt.” I pull my hand from his and make my way to the fridge, pilfering through a sea of leftovers until I find what I’m looking for.

  Sliding onto the stool next to Jeremiah, I have a hard time taking my eyes off of Donovan as he moves around his kitchen. His body is muscled, but trim, too. I can glimpse just a hint of his navy tie under the folded area of the collar.

  My fingers itch seeing just that glimpse with his back to me. What would it be like to undress him at the end of the day? Remove his suit, his shirt, his tie…all of it, piece by piece, until he’s exposed only for me.

  I blink the thoughts and the vision out of my head.

  Now is not the time, and I really am running a bit late for work.

  “When do you leave for school?” I ask, turning to Jeremiah. He’s slurping his milk from the bowl.

  He sets it down and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. I fight the urge to remind him of his manners.

  Boys are odd creatures—animals, really.

  “Five minutes ago,” Donovan mutters from the stove. He glances at me over his shoulder and then flashes a warning to Jeremiah.

  “I won’t be late. Bentley speeds,” he says, taking his bowl to the sink and tossing it in.

  “Dishwasher,” Donovan growls.

  Jeremiah rolls his eyes but does what he’s told. Based on his slight grin he’s hiding from Donovan, I almost get the sense that he simply likes to push his uncle’s buttons.

  He raises a hand over his shoulder as he leaves the room. “See ya later!”

  With a slap on the side of the doorframe, he disappears, and then seconds later I hear the front door slam closed behind him.

  Now that we’re alone, I focus all my attention back on Donovan.

  He’s giving me a strange look as he brings a plate of eggs and toast to the kitchen counter.

  “What?” I ask. Food on my chin? I wipe to see but my fingers are clean.

  “You like him.”

  “Jeremiah? Of course I do. He’s a great kid.”

  His eyes soften. “He is. He just…hasn’t had that many people be good to him lately.”

  I sit back in my chair. “Are you worried I won’t?”

  “No,” Donovan snaps, setting his fork down and staring at me intently. “That’s not it. I just feel like I’ve failed him these last few years, and now I’m working to make it up to him.”

  I sense that he’s not saying something and I frown, trying to figure out the piece I’m not understanding, when the front door opens and closes in the distance.

  The telltale click of shoes on marble echoes in the house and Donovan’s eyes flash to me.

  The air between us freezes to arctic temperatures and he jabs his index finger in my direction.

  “Stay here.”

  He pushes off the counter and disappears.

  I close my eyes, sighing.

  So much for our good morning.

  I have about five seconds to figure out what I’m going to do—sit and stay, or stand next to Donovan—before I hear her voice.

  “Well, isn’t this just despicable.”

  Instantly, I’m on my feet. As I move, I brace myself for the fallout that might come from this decision.

  Eight years ago, Donovan cowed to his mother, her desires for him, and one of those was to clearly scrape me loose. I can’t sit in a kitchen, alone, twiddling my t
humbs and waiting to see if he’s going to make the same decision again.

  “That’s enough,” Donovan says as I walk through the kitchen. His back is to me, but by the way his shoulders stiffen I know he knows I’m here.

  He doesn’t move and my blood chills a bit at the thought.

  His mother—Claire—does, though. Her eyes flash from annoyed to vehemently disgusted when she sees me.

  I keep walking until I’m standing next to Donovan.

  Her perfectly groomed eyebrows arch into two sharp points in the middle of her forehead, and she scans me from top to toe.

  It’s obvious that she finds me wanting…or inconsequential…neither of which I care to think about, when her gaze flicks to Donovan.

  He reaches out and wraps his hand around mine, squeezing my fingers. The minute gesture instantly warms my chilling skin and I relax into him, exhaling quietly.

  We’re in this together.

  “Cassandra told me you had a plaything, but I didn’t realize just how low your tastes have dropped.”

  “I’m going to give you three seconds to apologize before I ask you to leave.”

  Her lips press together into a fine line, not a wrinkle on her face. “You need to get serious, Donovan. You are too important, too visible, to be carrying on with someone of her caliber.” Her hand waves in my direction but her eyes stay fixed on his.

  His hand tightens around my fingers and he takes a step forward, as if to block me from her venom.

  “Decisions have already been made, Mother. My divorce is final, Jeremiah has left a school he hates, and you no longer have any say in my life or who I choose to have in it. Accept it or get out—I don’t really care anymore.”

  She huffs as if this is all a mere annoyance, and it’s in this moment that I realize, to her, it probably is. I’m a simple stumbling block to what she wants for her family, her son.

  My heart swells when I realize that this time, Donovan isn’t backing down.

  He also doesn’t seem to care that her three seconds are up, because he has more to say to her, and he quietly states, “Emily would hate you for what you’ve done to that boy.”

  She dismisses him with a gesture like she dismissed me. “Emily was never strong enough.”

  “Emily was in love and wanted her son to be happy because you never gave a shit if your own kids were.”