Page 120 of Fire Fight
“It’s not your fault,” she whispered. “But I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”
“What do you want?”
“You.”
This fucking girl.
“Nice shirt,” I said, toying with the hem briefly before sliding my palm higher against her smooth skin to cup one of her tits.
“This old thing?” she said coyly, sitting up and forcing me back on my heels.
The tee had once been black but had faded to more of a dark grey thanks to the number of times I’d worn and washed it. DUSK VALLEY FIRE DEPARTMENT was emblazoned on the front, CAPTAIN was written across the shoulders on the back.
“Yeah,that old thing,” I replied. “Looks a hell of a lot better on you.”
“You know where it’d look even better?” she asked, a wicked gleam in her eye.
I leaned forward to nip at her neck, her ear, whispering, “Where?”
Aspen shoved me away and said, “Your floor.”
Then she whipped it over her head and sent it floating to the carpet, leaving her clad in nothing but a pair of panties.
“A goddamn wet dream,” I murmured, reaching out to gently trace my fingers over her collarbones and down the line of her sternum before veering over to her nipples.
Aspen sighed as goosebumps erupted over her skin.
Then she stilled, pulling my attention to her face.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry,” she said sheepishly. “But I remembered you had something to tell me.”
“What happened to not wanting to talk about this anymore?”
One of those naked, slender shoulders hitched up. “I changed my mind.”
Sighing, I ran a hand over my face. I wanted Aspen to know every single part of me, jagged edges and all. And that meant baring myself fully to her and hoping she still wanted to be with me afterward.
“I’ll tell you,” I said, “but you’ve gotta put that shirt back on. I can’t talk to you when your perfect tits are staring me in the face.”
Aspen giggled as I climbed off the bed and retrieved the teefrom the floor. I tossed it to her, but she made no move to catch it, instead staring at me, mouth open in shock.
“What?” I asked.
“Crew…you’re bleeding.”
I glanced down at my torso, a thin line of blood and a small hole decorating my shirt where Chris has cut me.
“Fuck,” I breathed, pulling my shirt off and heading into the bathroom. Aspen put hers back on and followed, turning my back against the counter and inspecting the wound. “Antiseptic is in the closet.”
She grabbed the bottle and a cotton ball, and I hissed as she dabbed the liquid on my skin. “What happened?”
“Paid a visit to an old friend.”
Aspen quirked a brow. “All your friends treat you like this?”
“Just the ones who used to be my drug dealer.”
