Page 93 of Burn for Me

“They're getting on my nerves.” I take a breath to calm the anger flaring up inside me. It's not directed at her by any means, but I just...

The constant beeping begins to pick up, and I groan in irritation.

“Tide told me I can't. I'm already in enough trouble,” she whispers as if he could hear her through the metal encasing. A sigh escapes her lips when her fingers brush through my hair. Maybe if I take a different approach, she can help me ease my spiraling thoughts.

“I’m proud of you for following commands. You’re doing amazing, but... just for a little while.” I mutter the words softly.She shifts on her feet, rubbing her thighs together at my praise, biting her bottom lip.

“Come on, Darlin’, it’s just one little sin added to your list.” Now I’m the one hoping Caspian can’t hear through the walls because I don’t think I’ve ever begged like that.

When she pulls away, I grasp for her clothing, but the fabric slips through my fingers. I don’t want her to leave me again—like the last time I was in this position.

“Jasmine…” I murmur, hating how it sounds like a plea more than some flirtatious act. I should probably call her by her real name, but it’s not her. I can’t say it and feel right when I know who she is.

She clicks the lock on the door, and I fight back a smile, letting it ghost across my features instead of fully revealing the genuine relief I feel from the action. She stops beside me again, shaking her head disapprovingly as she leans over. That sliver of skin peeks out from under her shirt at her hip, and I can’t help but grip her waist and pull her close enough that my other hand can join.

“Sam.” She hisses, trying to sound stern, but the grin on her face says otherwise as she clicks the monitors off. I finally feel like I can breathe without all the unnecessary noise.

“Yes, Darlin’?” I coo, tugging her until she hesitantly and awkwardly tries to slide onto the bed beside me. That’s not going to work—not when I’m throbbing and nearly desperate to have her closer. I pull her again, barely concealing my smirk as the plastic bed sheets crinkle with the motion of her body moving to straddle my hips.

There’s too much tension in her body as she supports most of her weight on her knees, refusing to lower herself fully. I huff in frustration.

“Don’t start. I don’t know how you expect me to get comfortable when all I can see is…” She gestures toward thewraps and around the room. Scanning her features, I run my tongue over my canine and glide my hands along her thighs and up her waist.

“Then don’t look at them.” Her expression turns deadpan at my words as she lets out a scoff.

“What am I supposed to do? Close my eyes?” She starts to take an attitude, so I raise an eyebrow and squeeze her ribs in warning before grazing my thumbs over the spot.

“Find something to distract yourself with.” I tilt my head against my pillow, showing how I’m distracting myself by focusing on her skin beneath my fingers. “You can talk, kiss me until you’re breathless, or do your impersonation of Sharkie.”

Her laugh vibrates against my palms, and she relaxes some of her weight. Bracing her hand on my chest, she hesitantly draws my dog tags into her grasp.

“What’s our next stop?” She whispers as she smooths her thumb over the engraved information on the metal, making her ring catch against the dim beam of a hanging swaying lamp.

“Home.” I grin as I brush my thumbs under the hem of her shirt, lifting the fabric to admire the smooth skin beneath. There are more bruises and scrapes from the past few days than I’d like to see.

“Home,” she repeats, her voice barely above a whisper, and finally relaxes completely against my lap. This feels better than just staring at the ceiling. Noticing that she’s taking my advice to distract herself, I try to keep the conversation going.

“Are you going to tell me about your family?”

She scrunches her nose as if I killed the mood, so I laugh and pull her shirt higher. She takes the hint and raises her arms, allowing me to remove the fabric.

“You’ve met them.”

I roll my eyes and toss the top to the floor. My hands fall back into place, brushing my thumbs under her breasts.

“You know what I mean.”

I want to know every detail about her that I’ve been denied for so long. I want to know what hurt her and made her into the woman I love.I want all of her.

“It’s not my story to tell anymore,” she whispers, twirling her fingers around the chain and gently tugging it so I have to raise my head to meet hers. I don’t like that answer one bit, so my jaw tightens.

Her nose brushes against mine as she adds, “I chose my life, which means I'm leaving the past behind.”

I understand her perspective, but I still hope to gather at least a small tidbit about her later. I want to know if she wore bows and read books or if she climbed trees and broke vases while growing up. I want to understand who made her feel so unworthy and unwanted so that I can prove to her, over and over again, that she is more than enough. I hum in contemplation.

“Is that okay?” A jolt of electricity shoots down my spine as her lips brush against mine.The little devil is teasing me.Of course, it's more than ‘okay’; I'm just a little stubborn. Ultimately, I can accept anything that will help her overcome all the awful things in the world.

“Then tell me about your future,” I mutter before pulling her bottom lip between my teeth, nipping the flesh hard enough that her knees tense at my waist, only to relax when I let it go.

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