Chapter 16

Zoey

I should be used to being alone. I've spent most of my life that way, but since Backdraft came into my life, the feeling is heart wrenching. I've been there. I've done that. And I never want to do it again. Yet here I am. Alone. I don't know what it is keeping Backdraft away, but I know he wants me even if he's struggling with it. I've seen the way he looks at me even when he thinks I'm not watching. I've felt the heat of his touch. I've felt the passion in his anger. There are so many levels that make him who he is and every one of them is special. He makes me feel special and I want to spend every day showing him just how much.

I'm tempted to change out of these ridiculous sweatpants and go find him but then I remember what he asked of me. Stay in my room and that makes me chicken out. Someone will come for me in the morning. I'll have to wait to find the opportunity to make him realize he missed me. I hope he misses me.

Instead, I take the first hot shower I've had in days. When I'm done, I slip into a pair of shorts and a T-shirt and crawl onto the bed. Feeling a need to fill the silence, I thumb through the pages of my favorite book, reading the passages out loud to myself to fill the aching silence. My mind isn't on the words though, it drifts to thoughts of Backdraft. He fills every thought I have lately. Staring at the ceiling, I think of how he went back to the compound, despite the danger of getting caught, just to get me my things so I wouldn't be without. That's the greatest thing about this man. Since the moment we met, he's put my needs before his own safety. I've never had anyone do something so special for me, and even if he never returns, if whatever we started is already over, the memory of that act will always be special to me.

I must have fallen asleep because I wake to the sound of the door opening. On instinct, I jump and crawl back towards the headboard drawing the covers up around me. My vision is blurry from sleep, so I scrub my fingers over my face to clear them. That's when I see Backdraft standing over me. There's a look in his eyes that I haven't seen before and a smile on his lips. It brightens the darkness of his face and looks so good on him.

"Dax?" I whisper, knowing the effect it has on him when I use his real name. My intention isn't to anger him but to elicit the need it ignites in him. A need that I crave. "I didn't think you'd come."

"I couldn't stay away." Backdraft drops down beside me. He bends down and presses our foreheads together.

"I'm glad you didn't," I whisper against his lips.

Backdraft reaches out, grazing my cheek with his thumb, and warmth shoots through me. It's crazy how much I need this man and what his touch does to me. "There's so many reasons we shouldn't do this."

It looks like it pains him to say those words. Even though they feel like a hammer to my chest, I lean up, bringing my lips close to his. "I don't care about those reasons. I want you and you wouldn't be here if you didn't want me."

He responds with a softness I don't expect. His lips press to mine and part them slightly, drawing my breath from my lungs. His kiss is soft but passionate as his tongue sweeps my mouth and tangles with mine. This kiss is different from the last, like he's letting go of everything that's keeping him from allowing himself to feel something real and those emotions are all pouring out. And that's what I want to give him. Real and passionate and safe. It's something we both need more than air itself.

"I wasn't fair to you last night. Let me make it up to you."

I pull my head back leaving some distance between us and grip his face in my hands. His facial hair is rough against my palms. "We've been through this already. I wanted you then, Backdraft, as much as I want you now."

"I'm not good at this kind of thing but even I know that's not how a woman dreams her first time would be."

"That's true but I'm not complaining. I accept you, exactly how you are."

"I want to do better, Little Lamb." A low growl reverberates from his chest. "I need to do better so I can be the man you deserve."

His hand grips the back of my head pulling me to him. His lips crash against mine, hungry and needy. His tongue swirls with mine and I moan into his mouth. He kisses me with such intensity my knees weaken. The thought of what this man can do to me sends heat pooling between my legs. If it wasn't for this bed bracing me, I'd be a puddle on the floor.

"Then make love to me, Dax." I whimper my need, thrusting my hips up into him. I can feel his hardness pressed against me and it makes me feel more alive than I've ever felt before.

His mouth moves along my neck and a wave of heat washes over me, starting from my throbbing clit and spreading to every inch of my body. My nipples harden in response, begging for his touch. My fingers clutch onto his cut, and I pull him into me, not able to get close enough.

"I don't know how, Little Lamb. You make me lose control." His hot breath tickles my skin, heightening all of my senses. His teeth gently graze against my flesh as his mouth moves down my neck. I can feel the heat emanating from his body, igniting a fire within me.

"Then lose control. Just make me feel you."

His teeth sink into my skin, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to my core. Every touch, every caress from his lips, is like a fire burning inside me, building the ache and need for him to be inside me.

"Do you feel that?" He's teasing me, his hot breath on my skin taunting me with what I crave the most.

Gripping the hem of my shirt, he rips it up over my head, exposing my breasts to him. I watch him intently taking me in as he tosses it to the floor. A smile spreads across his lips before he leans in and takes one into his warm mouth and the other in the palm of his hand. He squeezes and bites at my hard nipples.

My breath comes out rushed and frantic. "More, Dax. I need more."

He pulls back, watching me squirm against the mattress. I'm aching so bad for his touch, that I can hardly contain myself. I'm a whole new woman under his thumb. While his touch is possessive and rough, I'm in control for the first time in my life. And that feeling is powerful and exciting, making me even wetter for him.

His hand slides down my stomach and trails along the seams of the cotton shorts I'm wearing. The way his rough fingers graze my skin sends a shiver up my spine. He grabs hold of them with both hands and slides them around my ass and over my ankles, tossing them to the side with my shirt. His hands glide up my thighs, the subtle brush of his fingertips against my skin leaving a trail of heat in their wake. My heart races with every inch of skin he caresses. Every nerve in my body tingles with desire, begging for more of his touch.

When his hands reach my panties, he yanks them off in one quick tug. "I like you better without these."

My heart is heaving in my chest. He grabs my knees and yanks me down the bed, his head sliding between my thighs.

The second his tongue flicks my clit, I let out a moan of pleasure. He swirls his tongue around my sensitive bud, making my body shiver. I've never experienced anything so pleasurable before and it only takes a minute for my body to shudder with the tension. He slides a finger deep inside, sending another wave of pleasure through me. My hands clench the sheets, my head snapping back with the sensation rolling through me. I whimper breathlessly as my muscles tighten, my body arching off the bed. I come so hard that my body shakes as I sink back into the mattress. He plants a kiss on my inner thigh and pulls back with a smile on his lips.

I can barely think straight as I watch him stand at the foot of the bed. I don't take my eyes off of him as he removes his cut and shirt. I roam my eyes over his chest and the tattoos and scars that cover it. His tanned skin glistens with sweat. My tongue darts to my lips, hungry to know what he tastes like. I prop myself up on my elbows and watch as he removes his jeans and boxer briefs. He leans over, gripping his hard, thick cock in his hand and flattening me back against the bed with his other hand. Lowering himself over me, he moves between my legs and lines himself up with my entrance. I'm already quivering when he slides in slowly, pressing his weight against me. The pressure builds so intensely that I let out a long, drawn out moan as he pushes in as deep as he can. His chest rumbles as he groans his own pleasure, and it only intensifies my own knowing I'm the reason.

He props himself up on his elbows and pulls back. His thickness slides out of my pulsing heat and then thrusts back into me ripping another moan as the air escapes my lungs. I circle my arms around him, digging my fingers into his muscular back. He thrusts into me again and I arch my back, pulling him closer.

"You feel so fucking good." His deep voice shakes as he picks up the tempo. Moving in and out with hard, deep thrusts that hit all the right spots.

He's so deep inside of me that I feel him everywhere. My nerves are on fire, my body quaking around him that I can only reply with a raspy, "Mmm."

His mouth covers my lips, his tongue twirling and twisting around mine in a heated rush as he rocks into me. I roll my hips up into him, his thrusts stealing my breath as the urgency between us intensifies. My climax hits me hard. Lights dance behind my eyes and I squeeze them shut as my body throbs around him. He thrusts into me again and again as my entire body shudders under him.

Then he groans the deepest guttural sound I've ever heard and pulls out of me. One hand holds him up while the other closes around his cock. I reach up, gripping him tightly. I don't know what I'm doing but I know I want to be the one to make him come. He grips my hand with his own and works it up and down his shaft. With another deep groan, he pulses in my hand. The feeling is powerful and sexy as hell. His head jerks back as he pumps his hot release onto my stomach.

Still reeling, I release my grip and lean back onto the mattress. My eyes are closed, enjoying the feeling still washing over my body. I can't see what he's doing but it sounds like he's walking away. I pry my eyes open and sit up on the bed. He's standing in the bathroom with a towel in his hand. He turns on the water, using his hands to test the temperature as he adjusts the knobs. When he gets it where he wants it, he wets the towel and turns off the sink. Turning back, he smiles at me, the towel hanging from his hand. He returns to the side of the bed and wipes the towel over my stomach in slow, gentle strokes, cleaning himself off of me. When he's done, he turns the towel around to the dry half and repeats the movement. Who would have thought this rough man could be so gentle?

He tosses the towel onto the floor and crawls onto the bed. The mattress dips under his weight as he lays down and pulls me into his side. I sigh into him, drawing my fingertips over his chest.

"What's on your mind, Little Lamb?"

We lay there, entwined in each other's arms, the room silent except for our heavy breathing and the question rolling around in my head since we left the cabin. I'm afraid to ask because the truth could burst the bubble we're in but I need to hear it. I need him to confirm he's the man I believe him to be, and if he's not, then I need to deal with that.

Finally, I gather the courage to say, "Tell me about your father."

Backdraft's muscles tighten, his body going stiff next to mine. With a heavy sigh, he shifts his weight to sit up and leans back against the headboard, pulling me with him. "I had a dysfunctional family. My father spent his time drinking himself into a fit of rage, and with each heavy fist, my mother disassociated a little more. Eventually, all that was left between any of us was resentment. My father resented us for ruining his life, my mother resented me for his anger, and I resented them both for all of it. The truth is, I became just like him. The hatred I had inside for both of them consumed me. The only time I felt anything but rage was when I make fires. I loved how the colors merged as the flames flickered and grew higher and brighter. My obsession started with small objects, but I didn't care for the stench of melting plastic. Over the years I sought out bigger things until I found what made me hard. At sixteen, I set fire to the neighbor's barn. That's when I realized I preferred the smell of wood, the sound of it crackling, as it burned. My mother was afraid of me. My father just wanted me gone. So they sent me to Chicago to live with my uncle. He was a firefighter and the one who taught me that anyone can light a spark but only heroes could walk among the flames. He'd take me along on fire calls, teaching me how to move about safely. Although, I'm sure his intentions were geared more towards putting out fires than starting them. After fire training, I found myself setting buildings ablaze only to be the one they called to put them out. It was intoxicating and exciting. It kept me satiated for years until the day I got the call that my father had come home after a bender and beat my mother to death." I gasp. "She had become so out of touch with reality by that point that she stopped feeling anything. I went back home expecting him to pay for what he'd done, but the local police refused to file charges. They dismissed her murder as an accident. I snapped. And one night while he slept, I lit the place up."

"He deserved it." My heart aches hearing his story.

"Maybe." He shakes his head. "All I know is I never want to feel that level of rage again."

I lean my head on his broad chest, listening to the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath my ear. The words I long to say to him rest on my lips but I hold them back. I'm not sure if he's ready to hear them yet, and I don't want to fracture the delicate bond we shared. Our relationship, if that's what you can call it, is fragile and this big, strong man just came apart in my arms. It was the most beautiful experience I ever had and I doubt if there could ever be another man to make me feel like he does.