Page 62 of Burn

What the fuck is he doing?

“Well, yes, but she said she didn’t have a date…”

“Well, she does now. We’ll see you in two weeks.”

Blake starts to reply, but he clicks the button to disconnect the call. I stare at him, open-mouthed, in disbelief.

The audacity of this man.

“What the hell, Adrian?” I rush out, my voice sounding somewhat frantic. He pushes onto his knees, his hands landingon my thighs, and leans into me. His eyebrow pops up, and a grin spreads across his face. “This isn’t funny!”

A low laugh rumbles out of him, “It’s a little funny,” he teases, and his tone has frustration simmering in my chest. “Lex,” he starts, and relief hits me in the strangest way. Not Morgan. Lex. “I don’t know why you avoided her, but it’s done. It’s handled. Now, where is this wedding happening?”

I shake my head and roll my eyes, and his hand shoots out, gripping my jaw and forcing me to look at him. I try to pull myself free, but he’s so strong and I can’t get away, so I settle on narrowing my eyes to glare at him.

“You can be as mad as you want, but you’re going, and I’m going with you.” I want to argue, just for the sake of arguing, but I’m also so fucking relieved at the prospect of not going there alone, that I can’t bring myself to disagree with him. Without releasing me, he adds, “Tell me we’re going.”

Words have apparently abandoned me, so I nod in response, and he closes the small gap and presses a soft kiss to my lips, then releases me and returns his hands to finish massaging my sore feet. I’m stunned. So much so that I sit silently, allowing him to work his thumbs into the arch of my foot. I hate that he made that call. He felt he was able to make decisions on my behalf. But more than that, I could kiss him for knowing how much I need him there with me, without me needing to tell him.

A moment later, he sets my foot down and uses the couch to push himself up. I follow him with my eyes, staring up in some spaced-out version of wonder at him, taking in his size. He holds his hands out, and I reach for them, allowing him to pull me up off the couch. He wraps his arms around me, and I think he’s going to hug me, but he slides the zipper down the back of my dress and quietly whispers, “Go shower. It’s late. We’re not done with the birth control conversation, either.”

God damn it.

I get halfway to the bathroom when he calls over his shoulder, “And I’m not sleeping on the couch tonight.”

Baby

Lex

Steam fills the bathroom, fogging the mirror as I stare at my reflection. My mother’s voice is still in the back of my mind, hissing insults and blaming me for everything that went wrong in her life. I study my body, pinching at the skin on my stomach.

‘You’d be so much cuter if you lost five pounds.’Her voice is a cruel constant I can rarely block out.

When the steam has coated the mirror to the point I can only make out my shape, I step into the shower. The water stings as it cascades over my face. It’s scalding hot but does little to ease the chill that’s settled into my bones, and I shake like a leaf, my knees knocking together. I lean against the cool tile, needing the support to not collapse.

I reach for the body wash Adrian bought just for me but pause when I notice his. Next to the name-brand option he chose is some generic men’s body wash. I imagine him scanning the aisle in the shop, picking up different bottles, smelling them, and finding the one that he felt was right for me. I wonder if it was intentional: the expensive option for me, the inexpensive one for him.

I pick up the charcoal gray bottle, squeezing a dollop into my palm. The scent hits first. It’s clean and masculine. It smells of bergamot and something earthy, with a slight hint of vanilla. I rub my hands together, then rub the suds over my body, allowing the smell of him to coat my skin. When I step back under the stream of hot water, I’m suddenly overwhelmed by it all. Being here, in his place, covered in him, surrounded by him. It’s all too much, so I reach for the body washhe bought me and rub it over myself, as if I can rinse him off my skin and reclaim some of myself.

It’s no use. I can feel him in every single fiber of my being.

I turn the tap, cutting off the water. The cold air bites at me as I step out. I towel off, moving in a daze. On the counter, there’s a folded shirt and a pair of undies that weren’t there before. He must have brought them while I showered, and I’m so out of it that I didn’t even hear him. I pull the shirt over my head. It’s one of his, and it smells so much like him. Not like the body wash, but that smoky, musky scent that clings to his skin.

I can’t escape him.

The thought weighs heavily on me, only overshadowed by a secondary thought.

I don’t want to escape him.

I slowly open the bathroom door, peering out into the dark apartment. The couch is empty. Every night this week, he’d slept on the couch. I hadn’t asked him to. I assumed he would sleep in the bed with me, but I’ve also been a raging bitch and refused to invite him into the bedroom, despite being desperate for the closeness. I pad toward the bedroom. The door is closed, but not latched, and a soft light seeps around the edges. I expect him to be asleep, so when I push the door open, I find him shirtless, sitting up, leaning against the wall, scribbling in a notebook. I freeze and silently watch him.

Mildred is curled next to him, and his brows furrow as he focuses. Without looking up, his hand drops, and he gently runs his hand down Millie’s back. She mews happily, and it pulls his attention from the paper in his hands. He glances at her, then his eyes flick up to meet mine. There’s a beat of silence before he smiles, sets his notebook on the nightstand, pats the spot next to him, and says, “Come here.”

I consider going to the couch, but there’s something in his expression that pulls me into the room. I cross the end of the bed, going to stand next to where he sits. He looks up at me, his eyes searching mine. “You okay?” he asks.

I shake my head, my words caught in my throat, blocked by the tears I don’t want to release. He nods knowingly and reaches out, grabbing my hand and pulling me into his lap. There’s no fight left in me, not for him, and I allow myself to curl into him, my head against his chest. His enormous arms surround me, pulling me in tight, and I don’t know if I’ve ever felt this… protected. Safe.

He runs his fingers down the length of my spine, and a quiet moan escapes my lips. I feel Adrian’s cock twitch under me, and he chuckles, the sound rumbling out from his chest, into my soul. “Careful, Lex. Sounds like that’ll get you in trouble.”

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