21. Flame #2
“That’s enough. You both will stay as long as she’s okay with it.
Knowing my daughter, if she doesn’t want you here anymore, she will be upfront.
But if she says to leave, you leave. If you don’t, I have no doubt that you will be missing chunks of skin by the second warning.
After she is done with you, I will take care of you when I get back, or even leave my job early,” Michael says in a low, slightly terrifying voice.
Now I know where my little Fox learned that skill.
She has the advantage though, since her size and looks make it more menacing. Her brother was right; she can be a little demon when she’s angry. I would rather stay on her good side with sweet, shy smiles.
Michael gives us both one more pointed look, stands up, and walks to the kitchen where everyone else is still cleaning up.
Ignoring Grey altogether, I stand up and follow Michael out.
When I get to the kitchen, I see that the other men are finishing up the cleaning.
Willow is still perched on the counter, but is now holding a cup of coffee, joking and laughing with everyone.
I feel a smile form on my face as I watch her in her other world.
I know she is the Fox and has killed more people in the last month than I have this year, but she naturally gives off a warm, welcoming feeling to everyone around her.
Smoke makes eye contact with me and does a quick check to make sure I haven’t taken any hits during my talk.
I give him a nod and tilt my head toward Willow.
He takes a second and gives me a pointed look with a small, jerky nod.
He isn’t happy about the situation, but that is the future me’s issue to deal with.
I walk over to where Willow is sitting on the counter with her sexy, toned legs dangling.
When I reach her, she looks up at me with those beautiful, ice-blue eyes.
Even sitting on the counter, we are not eye level.
I want to wrap my arms around her tiny, tucked-in waist and hold her against me as she traps me in those legs, but we’ll get to that in time.
“Do you think I can talk to you for a minute? Alone?” I ask her, hoping that she couldn’t hear the nerves in my voice.
This is going to be the first time that we speak one-on-one, and I need to make sure she is okay with me staying with her.
I don’t want her to agree just because her dad will feel better about it.
“Sure,” she says as she sets the coffee cup on the counter next to her before jumping off and then grabbing the cup again.
I step to the side and let her lead the way.
She walks to the living room, but instead of stopping, she continues out to the sunroom-looking thing and closes the French doors that connect it to the rest of the house.
I look around the room and notice that it is cozy looking, like the living room.
There is an overstuffed couch in there, but it’s white fabric instead of dark leather.
There are plants everywhere here, a coffee table, and a bunch of throw blankets.
The vaulted ceiling and walls are all made of glass, and the floor is the same as the rest of the house with another giant rug.
Not sure why she has two living rooms, but it’s nice.
“This is the conservatory. I love to come in here when it’s raining and read while listening to it hit the house,” she says as I look around, taking it all in.
I turn back to her, and she’s sitting on the couch.
Her feet are tucked under her, with her back against the armrest, facing where I am on the other side of the room.
She grabs one of the throw blankets and places it over her legs, still holding her cup of coffee and looks over to me after she gets herself comfortable.
I walk over and take the seat next to her. She turns her body more so she is still facing me, giving me her full attention.
“I just wanted to make sure that you were okay with me staying here, away from everyone else. I don’t want to push you into something if you aren’t comfortable,” I say while holding eye contact with her.
I want to be able to see if there is even a hint of discomfort in them, but like every time we make eye contact, her cheeks start to turn pink.
She clears her throat and looks down at the coffee cup that she is holding on her lap and says with a soft voice, “You don’t know me well, but if I was uncomfortable with the situation, it wouldn’t be happening.
I’m not really one to let things ‘happen to me.’ But thank you for checking that I was okay with it,” she says as she looks up at me again with no doubt in her eyes.
“I’ll take it,” I say, trying not to push her. I want her, but I don’t want to try to test my luck before I even start coming over.
“I would like to know why you volunteered to stay, though. Is it because I’m Smoke’s sister?
” she asks. It’s not like when other women ask stupid questions to fish for compliments.
I get the feeling that she doesn’t see that I have been flirting with her.
I’m not sure if I should be happy about this, because that means that she doesn’t know when other men are into her.
Or if I should be pissed because I suck at flirting so bad that she had no idea that I was trying.
I look into her eyes and give her a serious look, so she knows I’m not fuckin’ around.
“Wanting to help and protect you has nothing to do with Smoke. I want to get to know you, and you seem like someone that deserves to be protected,” I say in a serious voice.
“I appreciate you wanting to help, but I need you to understand that I’m capable of taking care of myself,” she says while keeping our eye contact.
Not sure when it happened or if it was her or me, but I notice our bodies are slowly moving closer as we continue to talk.
Probably me, due to the fact that her back is still against the arm of the couch. She is like a fuckin’ magnet to me.
“Little Fox, I know you can handle yourself, but I want to make it so you can let go and not have to have full control when I’m around.
” My voice comes out raspier than I intended, but our faces are moving closer, and it’s taking all of the little restraint I have not to grab the back of her neck and slam my lips onto hers.
She starts to squirm in her seat as I speak, and her eyes dilate. I want her, but she needs to make it clear that she wants it, too, before I make a move. I don’t want her to second guess anything that happens between us.
“I think it would take more than you think for me to be able to give up control,” she almost whispers, and I notice that her ice-blue eyes move from my eyes down to my lips. I take that as an invitation and start to slowly move in closer.