Page 52 of Fuse

She frown-laughs. “Huh?”

“Because that’s you, Velvet.” I grunt softly. “This life of mine…” Then shake my head and restrain a bitter laugh. “Well, ‘insane’ is putting it all mildly. It’s meant never knowing what hell or heaven the day is going to bring—and having to bank much more on the shitstorm instead of getting to ride off into the sunset.” I slide a hand up to grip the back of her neck while lowering my forehead to hers. “But before you came along, Emmalina Crist, I’d forgotten what the sun even was.”

A high sigh leaves her. Her whole form softens. “Reece…”

I break into her protest with a dip of my mouth. No way can I hold back any longer from claiming her with the full, passionate torrent of my mouth. Truth be known, I crave her with so much more, but this is enough for a start. More than enough, since she yields her lips with willing openness and softness, communicating how she already understands my need…with molten desire of her own.

Oh hell, yessssss.

We continue with slow, savoring rolls of our tongues…and soon, with sliding, sensual rolls of our bodies. And while my heart thunders against my ribs and my blood rushes like a flash flood, I’m actually able to pull back before my cock does the talking instead of my will—a gold star I instantly smack onto my composure report card. I’ll take those goddamned stars wherever I can get them, even if she does press back in at me, so pliant and pretty and smelling like summer wind as she pleads, “Reece. Oh, baby…”

I let her feel the upturn of my smile as her whisper flicks through the corners of my mind. It blends with all the other rasps I’ve hoarded there over the last twelve months.

Okay, Mr. Richards.

You like that, Mr. Richards?

Ohhhh…now that I like…

And I like it when you do that too…

Oh, dear God, Reece. And that too!

I love you, Reece.

I love you so much.

There are so many more, but those are the ones I choose to stop at, drawing breath so I can repeat them to her with every force in my body and strand of my soul.

Except that my memory hasn’t gotten the departure notification yet.

You’re mine, Reece Richards. All mine.

And has completely jumped tracks.

How I shall enjoy this, cariño.

Into a tunnel with an echoing Spanish accent.

No. Not just any Spanish accent.

Her Spanish accent.

You are not going to escape me, Reece. Ever.

I twist and lunge up, planting elbows on my upraised knees and parking my sweaty face in my trembling hands, fighting to let the angel of my present banish the demoness of my past. Of course, it helps that Emma’s already rolling back up next to me, filling her arms as fully with me from the second I reach for her, releasing a long sigh as I pull in a huge breath.

“What is it, my big bad wolf?” she asks with just the right mix of tenderness and tact.

I pull her closer and inhale even deeper, ensuring every pore of my being is drenched in her succulent summer scent, before I murmur into her hair, “Nothing, my sweet, soft bunny. Just a few ghosts.”

Her quiet sigh warms the base of my neck. “Ahhh. Those.” Then adds a cute bell of a laugh. “Well, maybe they need to be banished with a little distraction.”

“Hmmm.” I finish it with a growling nip into her shoulder. “A distraction sounds good…though I’m not quite sure how ‘little’ I can keep it.”

The laugh becomes a saucy giggle. “You still threatening to wield that magical hammer, mister?”

“Perhaps.”