23
Laura
Ienjoyed watching the dancing flames of a fire. Something about the colorful flickers always drew me in. No matter how minute the spark, a certain contentment and warmth would fill me. It was the magic of a combustible reaction. Carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen, and nitrogen came together to produce a flame, something that had always been an inexplicable impossibility in my head.
Dax and I were similar to the chemicals that generated a flame. I didn’t understand us. I didn’t get how we could co-exist and produce something great. Something beautiful. Something in nature that I didn’t believe we should have been two parts of.
We fought, argued, and had our back-and-forth banter, but when we let go of whatever doubts and anger resided within us, we were magic together.
I’d slept with a lot of women, more than I could even remember.
Was it possible I’d been saving myself, that specific part of myself, for someone I deemed worthy enough? Just like the beautiful flickers of a flame, I didn’t understand, logic and reason didn’t factor in to my situation with Dax.
Although I cared for a few of the women I’d been with, I’d never experienced those sparks and flickers he and I had created together. I’d never cared about what any of them thought of me. I’d never cared if any of them were proud of me. I was certain none would risk their lives to save mine. This thing with Dax was suffocating and confusing and left me out of sorts, unlike myself.
I’d allowed shit to get out of hand. I’d let things go too far. How could I give in like that? I’d never been that weak, especially not where it concerned a man. He’d ignited a desire within me I’d never had before and found a way to ease the tension by pleasuring it.
“Aww!” I yelled up at the ceiling, glad that no one could hear me, including Dax who had exited the room. “Make these thoughts disappear. Make these absurd feelings evaporate into nothingness. I don’t want any of it,” I continued, shaking my head to pull myself together.
My eyes rolled at the low tunes spilling from my phone, Dru Hill telling me that somebody was sleeping in my bed. “No shit,” I mumbled.
I rolled from the bed and dressed in slow motion, noticing it was past ten o’clock, the latest I’d slept in years. I hobbled, dragging myself down the stairs and into the living room. Beverly glared at my sluggish stride and immediately knew something was wrong.
Everything hurt. My arms, legs, hips, and thighs had gone through twelve rounds with a championship boxer. My fingers and toes ached. My hair follicles were sore. My curiosity had killed my cat. I promise, my pussy needed to be soaked in a tub of Neosporin ointment. I had no doubt that my shit was ruined, wrecked, destroyed and would never meow or purr right again.
Dax had the nerve to present a pleasant smile and greet me with a friendly, “Good morning.” D followed suit, but all I could squeeze out was a grunt.
Look at him, acting all subdued and dignified, smiling and being polite. I wrinkled my nose when I sensed his gaze following my careful stride. Asshole. He knew what he’d done to me was unholy, sinful, and disturbing. And I couldn’t get the shit out of my head. How sensational it was. How amazing he felt. How deep I’d allowed him inside my body.
I eased past him and D huddled around a laptop and sat on the couch next to Beverly before I laid my head in her lap.
“You okay?” The concern in her tone was apparent. I could picture it on her face.
“I’m good,” I lied as I adjusted to get comfortable. Beverly wasn’t going to buy that shit. Sooner or later, she would get to the bottom of my situation.
“Did you and Dax get into another one of your little spats?” She leaned in close to my ear, her stomach against my back. “I think he likes you,” she whispered. If only you knew. I must have liked him back to let him do what he did to me last night.
Bev wasn’t done as her hushed words continued to flow into my ear. “But, since he knows he can’t have you, he likes to keep up this little duel you two have going. Don’t think I haven’t been paying attention.”
Thank the heavenly angels Beverly assumed it was our spats that had me sleeping late into the day and seeking out a lap to lay on. She rubbed my sore scalp and back with a soft stroke as she stared daggers at Dax’s back.
A deep sigh escaped as I focused enough to concentrate on what Bev was asking me next.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You keep zoning out on something.” The concern on her face when I glanced up caused me to smile. It was good to know that someone in the world worried after me and cared if I lived or died. Before Beverly and Megan, I didn’t know what that was like.
With a deep sigh, I lied to my best friend a second time. I lied because I couldn’t tell her what had really gone down. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever tell her. All I wanted to do was pretend it’d never happened and make sure it never happened again.
“Yes. I’m fine,” I finally answered. “He gets on my damn nerves,” I continued as my eyes drifted closed, and I prayed for sleep to take me back.
“I’m ready for this to be over. A few more days and this operation goes live. We get to kill an original and put this manhunt to bed,” I voiced, but in the back of my mind, I knew that things were never that simple.
“You say that like it’s so easy. You heard what the guys have been saying. The man is protected. He guards his face and identity like it’s a sacred fixture. D says that’s why we have a plan B in case the original plan doesn’t work.”
I shrugged. “Beverly, don’t let these men’s good behavior fool you. You don’t get picked for black-ops because you’re good. You get picked because you’re the best. These men know how to play it cool. They take their time and learn. They are smart. They know how to be poised and calm under pressure. They’ve even trained themselves to be gentlemen. But, they don’t fool me. Under that calm, composed, and well-manicured exterior lays a straight-up fucking killer. You know what that means?” I didn’t give her time to answer before I moved on with my rant.
“It means their kill lists are probably higher than we can count, and sometimes, I wonder if DG6 is really who we should be running from. These men respect who they care about, but cross them, and you have pretty much signed your own death warrant. For some crazy-ass reason, and thanks to Megan, they like us, and I’m glad for it.”
Beverly huffed at my words, releasing a deep exhale.