Touching Fire (Touch Saga) (26 page)

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Authors: Airicka Phoenix

BOOK: Touching Fire (Touch Saga)
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“Are we there?”

He didn’t answer. His grip tightened as if he was afraid I might change my mind; I was never a fast runner, never as fast as he was, but I was keeping up as if our lives depended on it.

At long last, after what felt like eons,
we reached my room. One of us pushed open the doors and we both stumbled inside.

I turned on him, hands reaching, closing over clothes.
“Now!”

I was shoved into the
doors he kicked closed and restrained there by his body. My arms became full of rugged muscles as they circled around him, welcoming him home. I trembled, burning from the inside out. My heart galloped wildly in time with his, a fierce battle to see which could break free of our bodies first. I dampened my lips, my very soul on the brink of agony. I was half-mad with the need for him.

Please touch me! Please touch me! Touch me!

I knew he heard me. I knew there was no way he hadn’t. My mind was a cyclone of insanity and he was smack-dab in the middle of it. He had the power to calm the storm. He had the power to make the torture stop. Instead … instead his fingers were tracing my face, penciling every curve and contour of my face into his memory. The caress, although soothing, wasn’t nearly enough to quench the thirst inside me. I needed him.

His lips bowed into a cruel smile. His eyes, dark
… hungry, bore into mine. His fingers slid down the length of my jaw and over the hammering pulse at my throat. My stomach wrenched. My knees buckled. Every inch of skin broke out in goose pimples. My eyes closed as my head dropped back, exposing my throat to him.

His mouth found the sensitive patch of skin just beneath the curve of my jaw and my entire body convulsed in a violent quake. The gasp tore from my lungs. My fingers burrowed into his hair, fisting and holding him to the spot.

It wasn’t enough. The nip of his teeth on my hot flesh, the trace of his tongue over my hammering pulse, his fingers, pushing and dragging away the hem of my shirt to reach for the skin underneath … it wasn’t enough.

Trembling, panting, I reached for his hem. I hooked my finger into the soft material and yanked. My first attempt only brought the shirt halfway. It
bunched beneath his arms. He drew back, stared at me with eyes deep pits of fire matching that burning within me. I expected him to say no, to refuse. But he dragged the shirt off and tossed it somewhere. Then he was back, pushing all that gloriously naked flesh into me, into my hands, my anxious, greedy …
wanting
hands, as he returned the favor. He liberated me of my t-shirt, leaving me clad in only my white bra as he splayed his large hands around my waist. We both groaned as some of the throbbing deep inside calmed to a gentle roar. The skin to skin contact was cool water on a burn. Our hands were leeches, sucking the relief the other offered.

I touched everything. I let my hands claim every inch of his torso. I let my nails leave shallow welts in his beautiful, gold
en skin. He hissed a powerful, guttural sound of raw pleasure. His back arched into my hands as his body gave a shudder. His head fell back, his eyes closed, his teeth bared.

Mine!
The animal inside me snarled.

His eyes opened
and snapped down to mine. “Yours,” he vowed.

It was my turn to growl, my turn to wrap my arm around his neck, to fist my fingers into his silky hair and drag him to me.

“Kiss me!” It wasn’t a damn request.

I felt the shift of his weight as he pushed me harder into the
cool surface of the door. He raised one arm and planted his forearm just over my head as he leaned in close. I held my breath, but it came out in a torn gasp as he whispered a finger down the column of my spine. He started lowering his head again, but at the last second, he stopped, pulled back.

“What?” I panted, dizzy with his scent. “What’s wrong?”

The left corner of his mouth quirked up in a humorless smile. “I’m afraid I won’t be able to stop if I kiss you.”

My stomach jittered. My fingers tightened in his hair. “Then don’t,” I moistened my lips. “Kiss me, Isaiah. I need you—”

He kissed me and the world stopped spinning. I stopped breathing. Ropes of fire shot through my veins as the taste of him lanced through me like a sword. I gasped and he took advantage of my parted lips to plunge in his tongue, deepening the kiss. The hunger of his mouth arched my feet until every inch separating us was closed as I pressed myself into him and wrapped myself around him. One of us moaned. It might have been me because a second later, a deep growl emanated from him that vibrated against my lips. His arms banded around me like a straightjacket and compressed me into his chest.

The kiss hardened. It became frantic, desperate, two panicked souls finally at that peak moment of euphoria. We were unhinged, soaked and drowning in the liquid pool of bliss. Our hands slid and skimmed the length of the other’s body, not a single reachable inch undiscovered. There was no room between us, yet it was not close enough. He was not close enough and it drove me insane with frustration.

Closer!
I willed him, sinking my nails into his back, urging him farther into my arms.

He broke free despite my protest. His damp lips kissed a hot trail down the length of my neck. Up again to my ear.

“I love you,” he rasped.

I burned. I froze. I stiffened. I stopped breathing. I weakened.

But before I could let the tears fall, before I could squeal with happiness, before I could open my mouth, a loud crash shattered the moment and we both jumped.

Across the room, in a million jagged pieces, the lamp that had been sitting on the end table lay broken across the floor. Far across the floor. Like clear across the room across the floor.
I was lightheaded and dazed, but even I knew that was impossible unless someone had deliberately pitched the thing.

“Stay here.”

Ever the man of action, Isaiah strode across the room. He stood over the shards of ceramic a moment, before glancing up at the end table, a deep furrow between his eyebrows.

“It had to be the hallows,” I said, scooping up my shirt off the floor and pulling it on.
I laughed shortly. “Can’t believe I just said that with a straight face.”

T
he same eyebrows that had been knitted tightly together shot up like raven wings about to take flight. “The what?”

I snatched up his top and went over to him.
“Those things Ashton was telling us about. The spirits or souls or whatever.”

It took him a moment, but he no
dded slowly when he remembered. “I guess they didn’t like what we were doing,” he mused, reaching to take his shirt from me.

I drew it away before he could close his fingers around the fabric. “Guess not.”

The corner of his mouth drew up. “Can I have my shirt back?”

I shook it out and folded it neatly. “No. I need to talk to you and I concentrate better when you’re topless.”

It was a lie. The last thing I wanted to do was talk when he stood before me, all that beautiful craftsmanship bare like some banquet to the gods. Everything from his broad shoulders to the rigid V disappearing into the waistband of his jeans set the fire alarms in my head ringing. It would take a very strong willed and possibly dead woman, not to salivate at all the delicious muscle. Then he had to go and fold his arms over his chest and I was suddenly all about picking up where we were interrupted and screw stupid, meddling spirits. Let them wreck the whole room.

The
tendons in his arms bulged and like any teenager, I had to start wondering why there was all that unnecessary space between us. Wasn’t that kind of a waste?

Blue eyes twinkled as they watched me try and fail not to ogle. But God was he ogle-able and touchable and kissable and a whole lot of other
ables
that were very R-rated. Maybe giving him his shirt would have been a good idea.

He rolled his tongue over his bottom lip and that crazy, crazy idea of returning his top went zipping out the window. In fact, I was now thinking of ways to set all his tops on fire.

He shook his head, chuckling. “You know I can read your mind, right?”

I moistened my own lips. “
We should talk.”
Before I forget why I’m being a good girl.

He inclined his head and motioned towards the sofas. Safe. Definitely safer than the bed. I dropped his
shirt into my open duffle and followed him to the sitting area.

“We’re going back in the morning,” I
told him once we were both seated.

All traces of humor instantly vanished. He stiffened. “What?”

I knew he wouldn’t take the news lightly. I knew he would argue. But I was also hoping he would at least hear me out.

“Ashton
says you can’t stay here. It’s not safe for you.”

A look of puzzlement crossed his face, but he nodded like it made sense. “Okay.”

“He found a way for you to return in the morning.”

Again, he nodded. “Okay.”

I rubbed my hands down the length of my thighs. “I’m going with you.”

“No!” He
didn’t even wait for me to finish.

“Isaiah—”

“No,” he said again. “I brought you here for a reason, to be safe. Why would I let you go back?”

I bit out a hard laugh. “Well, you’re not
letting
me do anything. I’ve already decided. If you go back, so am I.”

“Damn it, Fallon!” He leapt to his feet and paced over to the unlit fireplace. Someone must have put it out after I left the room.
“I’m not budging on this.”

“Well, neither am I.”

He sighed. “Then why come here? We could have just—”

“Kept running?” I finished for him. “We needed a break. You needed a break. Also, I never knew you wouldn’t be able to stay. Do you honestly think I would have agreed if I’d known?”

He continued to pace, reminding me of a caged animal. “Ashton will never agree—”

“I’ve already talked to him. I told him if you can’t stay, I’m not staying.”

“Why would you do that?” He rounded on me, his eyes alit with fury. “Why would you risk—”

“What am I risking, Isaiah? My life? What life? I don’t belong here. I knew that the moment we arrived.
My life, as screwed up as it is, is with you. You’re the only family I have.”

“No!” With an aggravated growl, he pushed his face into his hands and rubbed viciously. “Damn it!” He whirled around and landed a furious kick to the
mantel. White powder rained to the floor from the dent in the marble. “No! I’m not letting you. I don’t care if I have to tie you up, you’re staying here where it’s safe.”

“Okay can I just point something out here?” I didn’t wait for him to respond as I pushed on. “Have you forgotten that I kind of need you around to keep me from killing people?”

He stilled as I knew he would. He turned and his eyes met mine.

“Still think I’ll be safe here without you?”
I challenged. “I mean, how long do you think Ashton will put up with me gnawing on his people?”

He tore fingers
angrily back through his hair. “This wasn’t how this was supposed to end.”

I went to him, freed the inky strands from his violent fingers and held on to them.
“We’ll figure it out, okay? It’ll be tough, but we can do it. We’ll go south. We’ll cross the border. I don’t know, but it’ll be okay.”

He raised sorrowful eyes to
face. “For how long?”

I shook my head. “I don’t know.”

His arms slipped around me and I was tucked into his chest. “This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

I rested my cheek against the slope of his shoulder. “
Not exactly what I wanted either.”

He exhaled into the top of my head. “
I guess this means you should get some rest. I need to find Archer or Ashton and get our supplies together.”

I stopped him before he could let me go. “Stay with me until I fall asleep?”

After a quick bathroom run to brush my teeth and change into the shirt I’d stolen from him, I joined him in the center of the enormous bed. A part of me wept at the thought of having to give it up. I hated that I finally had a room and I would lose it after only a few days. It wasn’t fair.

“Brazil,” Isaiah murmured as we shifted into position with him on his back and
me tucked into his side with my cheek resting above his heart.

“Brazil?”

He drew the sheets up around us. “Yeah, we should go there.” He tucked his free arm beneath his head and stared up at the ceiling. “We could get a house and start fresh.”

I felt my lips curl. “
That sounds nice.”

“It’s far enough south that we won’t have to worry about
—”

I raised my head and pressed a finger to his lips. “Tell me about the house.”

His blue eyes bored into mine as he gently wrapped his hand around mine and drew my fingers away. He flattened both our palms on his chest.

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