“Mouth,” she whispers.
I pull back and move exactly where she wants me, holding my breath as her perfect, pink tongue licks away the arousal there.
“Fuck,” I hiss at the sensation.
I can already tell that getting back inside of her is going to have to wait for round two because I’m already so close to exploding, and she’s barely touched me.
My eyelids flutter closed when she wraps her lips around the head. I do my best to keep from thrusting forward, but only after shifting closer a few more inches.
“That’s fucking perfect, baby. How deep can you take me? Jesus, Faith, that’s—”
A crash of breaking glass echoes in the room, and I’m off her in an instant, shoving my legs into my jeans, nearly snapping my cock off, as I rush down the hallway toward the noise. I know the second I reach her bedroom door what’s going on. Lights flicker under her door, warning me of the trouble we’re facing and preventing me from opening it.
“The house is on fire!” I yell as I make my way closer to her.
Faith has that terrified look in her eyes once again as she scurries around, picking her clothes up off the floor.
“There’s no time for that. Here.” I shove the blanket from the back of the couch into her hands.
She seems frozen in place, and I have to wrap the blanket around her and drag her from the house. With the bedroom on the back of the house, I’m able to pull the SUV from the driveway and park further down the street as I call 911.
Once I’m off the phone, I pull her to my chest, holding her as best as I can in the vehicle as we wait. I only thought I felt impotent before. Sitting here with her, watching as all of her belongings are engulfed in flames makes me feel completely useless.
It seems like an eternity before a fire truck pulls up, but a quick glance at the clock on the dash shows it’s only been six minutes.
Faith is silent, her body trembling uncontrollably as we watch the guys pile out and get to work. I can appreciate their effort, but I also can see that the house will be a total loss.
I jerk, a growl escaping me at a knock on my window, not chancing that someone is going to try to hurt her again.
Colton is standing there, using hand motions to instruct me to roll down the window.
Faith pulls away a few inches but doesn’t go far.
“You guys were inside when it caught fire?”
“It was a Molotov cocktail through her bedroom window. The room was engulfed by the time I made it down the hallway,” I explain.
Colton’s jaw flexes as he looks over the hood of the SUV and back to the house.
“I have no doubt this is the same person that’s been doing everything else,” I tell him.
“And he’s escalating,” Colton mutters.
“I’m taking her to the clubhouse.”
Colton taps the door in acknowledgement, walking away to speak with one of the firefighters as I roll the window up.
A minute later, we’re on our way to the safety of Cerberus property, and I realize just how upset she is that she doesn’t argue about going.
Chapter 22
Faith
Helpless.
I’ve felt it on numerous occasions in my life.
When I was told over and over that I was going to be changing foster homes, I would just nod, grab whatever bag was available and pack my things. I was in no place to argue, and I knew asking questions would only cause problems. If a family decided they didn’t want me, there was nothing I could do to change their minds.
When I was a teen, I took every precaution I could to avoid the foster dad that looked at me with less-than-kind intentions. I slept with a knife. I told a teacher what was going on. I still had to wait thirty days to be removed, each hour at home spent wondering when he was finally going to give in to his urges.
As many times as I felt helpless, I never faced hopelessness. I’m a cautious optimistic. I don’t get my hopes up too high, leery of overinflating my desires. I’m very capable of managing my expectations so the lows in life don’t defeat me.
Tonight, I feel hopeless.
First, my livelihood was threatened with a small baggie in my car, and now, everything I own is getting devoured by flames.
I’m not even dressed. The only thing that kept the firefighters and Detective Matthews from seeing every inch of my naked flesh is the thin blanket wrapped around me.
Ethan turns up the heat higher when I shiver for the millionth time, but I don’t have the ability to tell him I’m not cold. My nerves are shattered, and I have no real control over my body. I know the signs of shock, and I don’t think that’s what’s happening to me right now, but I can’t stop the tremble in my muscles either or the chattering of my teeth.