A Light in the Flame (Flesh and Fire, #2)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

“I can sense your need. Feel it. Taste it. You’re drowning in it.” His eyes slammed shut. “I’m fucking drowning in it.” A sharp dart of desire sliced through me. “Then drown with me.”

“I know you’re strong and can fight. That you’re brave. Needing me or anyone to look out for you doesn’t mean you’re weak, that you can’t defend yourself, or that you’re afraid. We all need someone to watch over us.” Heat crawled up my throat. “Do you?” “Desperately,” he whispered.

“Are you worried you’ll be unable to control your body’s reaction again?” “I live in constant fear of that,”

I wasn’t even sure if it was normal to worry about asking or saying the wrong thing like I often did. Or that I couldn’t get my thoughts, which sounded so right in my head, to come out of my mouth the same way. Would it sound silly? Would whatever I said come back to haunt me? To hurt?