Through the Fire (Daughter of Fire, #1)(52)

Resisting the urge to shudder at his casual mention of the murders he’d had to commit, I dropped my forehead onto his chest.

He kissed my hair softly before he continued. “Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in the things I’ve had to do—there are some things out there that are pure evil. I just wondered whether the Rain has some stuff wrong too.”

Lifting my head, I smiled as bravely as I could. I wanted to shut out everything about what I was and who he was for just a little while. However, it was too much to hope for to have the typical reunion of young sweethearts ripped apart too early.

“You opened up my eyes, Evie, and I won’t allow them to be closed again.” A moment later, he touched his lips to mine.

I responded eagerly to his kiss. It had been too long since I’d experienced anything like that. Every part of me wanted him.

Holding me tightly to him, he deepened the kiss, and my tongue searched desperately for his. Sighing into my mouth, he pulled my body flush against his. My hands roamed freely, tracing the length of his back and wrapping around his neck. The heat between us ignited rapidly into something I’d tried and failed to recreate with both Brian and Aiden.

His hands ran down my spine and onto my lower back, gripping the fabric as he pressed against my body to close the gap between us.

Fisting my fingers into his hair, I pulled him closer to me so that I could enjoy every second of our contact.

His lips left mine to caress the column of my throat, and he trailed soft, wet kisses down my neck and into the collar of my shirt. Trailing his fingers down to my thigh, he hitched my leg up to wrap around his waist. His need for me was obvious.

“Evie,” he murmured in reverence against my ear before claiming my mouth again.

Stepping forward, he pushed me backward until I was flush with the wall, grasping my hips tightly as if fearful I would disappear if he loosened his hold even a little. His kisses were desperate and spoke volumes to places deep inside my body.

I hummed with pleasure. Before I could second guess anything else, I tugged my hands through his hair. With my hold, I pulled his head back and exposed his scruffy jaw. A grin stole across my lips at the sounds that escaped him as I peppered feather-light kisses across his jawline. After running my hands across his broad shoulders, I went to push off his leather jacket.

I’d waited too long for this particular reunion. There was no reason to delay things even a moment longer.





CHAPTER SEVENTEEN


“WAIT,” HE murmured after breaking off the kiss.

I whimpered as he slowly unraveled himself from me and stepped back.

“I’m sorry,” he said, chuckling slightly at my reaction. “I just think it would be best if we moved on rather quickly. I don’t want to get caught here, in this hotel. That was rather clever by the way, including the phone number for the Reunion Church in Phoenix in your clue.”

I smiled at the compliment. I’d heard of the church a while earlier and had decided it would play a part in any messages I was to leave for Clay to lead him back to me. Of course, I hadn’t known for certain that I would see him again, or that he would try to find me if I did, but I had hoped.

“Are you packed?” Clay asked.

I nodded. “Always.”

He frowned, but I couldn’t say whether it was at the memory of the last time I told him I was always packed or the fact that my life still revolved around needing to flee at a moment’s notice. A moment later, he shook off the darkness that had overtaken him.

“I brought something for you,” he said, stepping back and grabbing the bags from the floor. He fished through them for a moment before pulling out a long ruby-red evening gown, a small clutch, and a pair of matching wedges. The silky material looked like it was in constant motion as he held it in his hands.

“I can’t wear that,” I insisted.

“There’s a convention of sorts going on tonight. You’ll stand out less if you’re dressed up than you would in your usual fare.”

In reverence, I reached for the dress, lifting one corner of the material and letting it slip back through my fingers. “I’ve never worn anything so nice.”

“Just try it on. I wasn’t sure about the size.”

“But—”

He reached for my hand and rubbed his thumb softly across my palm. “Please, Evie. Trust me?”

Grabbing the hanger of the dress, I disappeared into the bathroom. I undressed quickly and pulled the silky material over my head. As soon as I had pushed my arms through the straps, I let the rest of the dress fall. It slipped easily down my body and came to rest a few inches above the floor. The size wasn’t exactly perfect—it could have been taken in a little around the waist—but the style of the dress meant it didn’t matter too much. Looking at myself in the mirror, I couldn’t believe what I saw.

Staring at my reflection, I couldn’t remember a time when I’d dressed so femininely. My usual clothes were designed to hide who I truly was—this dress seemed to expose it all. I wondered for a moment what it must be like to live a life where dressing up was a regular occurrence, where dresses and skirts weren’t foreign objects.

The only thing wrong with my image was my bra; the thick, practical straps ruined the lines of the whole dress. I slipped the straps of my bra off and assessed the difference, deciding that I could go braless for one night.