Page 11 of Blazing Desires
Battered and worn from all the times I’ve re-read it, hope is scattered within the pages like falling leaves. It’s what I cling to, that one day I’ll have the happy ending I’m so desperate for. I’ve dreamt of my freedom every single day since I was a child, playing out all the different ways I might escape the four walls I’ve been confined to my whole life. I want to be free from my father, from his rage and violence that creeps over me like poisonous vines, trapping me in a state of slow decay that will one day kill me if I don’t find a way to get free.
After I overcome the shock of Blaze actuallyaskingme if he can put his clothes in my closet, I struggle to pay attentionto anything but him. Sitting opposite me in the armchair, he’s tucked in the corner, the deep seat doing nothing to swallow his large frame. He angles himself so he can see the whole room, including me.
His thumb deftly scrolls his phone, but it is the way he’s sitting that has my body at attention. Leaning forward, with his elbows on his knees, he looks ready for a photoshoot. My eyes are ignoring my command to keep them trained on the words on the page, continuing to drift up to take in his toned body, trailing the tattoos on his forearms, caressing the tousled layers of his dark hair. The tan of his skin draws me into its warmth.
How can I be this attracted to someone?
My thoughts give me whiplash. I’m still trying to recover from shouting at him and telling him not to touch me. Yet here I am, unable to stop stealing glimpses of him.
It had been purely from panic, from the fact that he’d called me a nickname I hadn’t heard in years, combined with him touching my hands like I was something worth treasuring, raising my palms to his lips to kiss away the pain.
I had left marks on my skin from clenching my fists so hard and not even noticed—but he had. And fuck if that touch hadn’t opened a yearning deep in my soul. No other man has made me feel that way with only a touch before.
It’s confusing as fuck. I’d shouted at him to not touch me, but every word felt like a lie scorching my tongue as they passed my lips. Every fibre of my being wanted him to touch me and never let me go but self-preservation had kicked in.
As I continue to steal glances, I notice the burning rose tattoo on his right hand. I’ve always found it incredibly sexy when men have a full body of tattoos—having Blaze in front of me, knowing he’s covered in art that I can’t drink in and explore, is torture. I check for other tattoos I can make out as subtly as I can. I catch a glimpse of the one on his neck, disappearing under the collar ofthe tight black top hugging his skin. As my eyes follow the path where the lightning trails into the collar of his shirt, I catch his lips as they curve into a slight smirk in my peripheral vision.
Fuck, he has dimples.
“Like what you see, love?”
Judging by the smirk on his stupidly gorgeous face he knows exactly where my thoughts have gone. My blush deepens as I flick my eyes back to my book to buy myself some time.
Say something witty, Davina.
“Of course.”Fuck. “I mean-”
I clear my throat, ransacking my brain for something that will dig me out of this hole. In the end, I settle for honesty, because backtracking will only make things more awkward. I exhale a slow breath before steeling myself to meet his eyes.
“You’re devastatingly beautiful, Blaze. I doubt many in this world wouldn’t like what they see when they look at you.”
Since I am going for honesty, I decide to share a thought that’s been on my mind since I first saw him in my dad’s office.
“But something tells me that your looks are the least interesting thing about you.” I give him a small, genuine smile before settling more comfortably on the sofa and returning to my book.
Blaze is quiet for a while, and I reluctantly peek at him, concerned I’ve made him angry and wanting to prepare myself for his response, even if it’s just him lashing out with words. He’s stock still, as though carved from granite. His eyes pierce mine as they glitter with an emotion I can’t read. Finally, he breaks the silence and sits back a little.
“You always did have a way with words, Mea Divina.”.
As his words register, I’m frozen—it’s not the response I’m expecting. His face breaks out into a wide grin, showing his perfect white teeth as his dimples come out in full force. If I thought he was devastatingly beautiful before, it’s nothingcompared to the way he looks now. No man should be this earth-shatteringly pretty when they smile. I lean forward, my body subconsciously trying to get closer to the warmth bleeding from his smile. I want to soak it into my skin and have it flow through my veins.
Wow.
He chuckles, a soft rumble in his chest. “Did you just say,wow?” His tone is teasing.
It takes me a beat to realise I’ve said the word out loud. My inability to control my reactions around him is worrying, but there’s no way I’m going to be able to cover it up now that he’s noticed.
“Yeah, I guess I did.”
I return a genuine smile, the movement tugging at my split skin, but the pain is worth it. I might be all over the place since I first walked into my father's office, but at least I feel something other than the numb nothingness that paralyses most of my waking hours. Blaze dips his eyes from mine to my mouth and back.
“Wowto you too, love.”.
I bite my lip to stop the disbelieving giggle bubbling up in my chest and shake my head slightly, as if it will help to wipe this moment away like a fading dream. Of course, it does nothing of the sort. So I go back to my book, determined to get some reading done and try my best to ignore the man stealing all my attention.
“Lunch is here.”
Blaze’s voice interrupts the trance I’d fallen into while reading, making me nearly jump out of my skin. I refuse toexplore how I’ve managed to lose myself so thoroughly in my book with him in the room. A long time has passed since I still had some faith in men, before the heartbreak allowed me to feel anything close to being this comfortable and safe.
