Ignited

by Lily Cahill

  He found her confession unbearably arousing. “Just relax. Tell me if you don’t like something,” he said, trying to get his breathing under control. “Do what feels natural.”

  “Okay,” she said, and licked her lips.

  He forced himself to move slow. He pressed his mouth to hers again, and once again ran his tongue along the seam of her lips.

  She opened for him, then made a muffled sound of wonder when he kissed her deeper, deeper. The drumbeat of his pulse picked up when she began to kiss him back.

  Ruth followed his lead, mimicking his movements. Her hands clenched in the fabric on his shoulders and then moved down his front with slow deliberation. She clutched at his waist, and Henry nearly lost his head.

  He surged up, hands around her middle as he picked her up. She was so tiny, so light in his arms. He sat back on his chair so she was straddling his thighs. Her long skirt hampered her and he recklessly shoved it, exposing her creamy pink skin. Her hot center was pushed up against the front of his trousers, his burgeoning erection. It felt so good, he moaned into her mouth.

  His arms circled her, held her close, and Ruth seemed to lose herself in his touch. Her mouth was hot and wanting against his own, and of her own volition, she moved against his hardness.

  He ripped his mouth away, dropping his head back against the chair, panting toward the ceiling. Her body felt so good, so tempting.

  Ruth stilled on top of him. He looked up. Her mouth was red from his kisses, the flush high on her cheeks. She looked unkempt and almost too gorgeous. Her pupils were blown wide and slowly, with trepidation, she swiveled her hips again.

  It was impossible, how amazing it felt.

  Ruth paused. “Am I—doing this right?”

  “There is no way you can do it wrong,” he told her, barely getting the words out. Henry gripped her hips, holding her tight against him, and pressed up. She choked on a gasp. It was a sound he wanted to hear again—and again and again and again.

  He wanted to feel her without the barriers between them, skin to skin, intimate and real. His right hand migrated from her hip down her leg, where it pushed up under the hem of her skirt, climbing higher and higher. His touch was soft, light. He didn’t want to push her. He just wanted her to realize all the ways they could both feel good.

  He watched his hand disappear, and when it lingered on the soft skin of her inner thigh, he looked up. Ruth watched him, lips parted, eyes heavy-lidded. He’d always thought her beautiful, but now he was seeing her in an entirely new way—she was sexy. He kept his hand in place, quirking an eyebrow, and she nodded, understanding his unspoken question.

  Without wasting another moment, Henry pushed his thumb against her nub, circling it gently. Ruth threw her head back and keened loudly, the sound echoing in the stillness of the kitchen. Her breaths were ragged, and her hips moved against him when he did it again.

  She gave another moan. Her panties were growing more and more wet, and Henry started to move them aside, dip his finger between her folds, explore her further, when Ruth froze. Her voice was breathy as she said, “I’m so hot.”

  Henry grinned to himself, but when he caught her eye, he saw something he hadn’t expected—panic, rather than arousal.

  “I’m too hot,” she said, pushing back and slipping off his lap. “I’m—I’m going to catch on fire, I can tell, I don’t know how to stop—”

  Her hands burst into flame, and Henry scrambled out of the chair, toward the sink. He turned the spigot on full blast and said, “Quick, quick. Come here!”

  Ruth rushed forward and stuck her hands below the rushing water. The flames disappeared instantly. Henry slipped back into doctor mode. He reached out to examine her hands. The skin was pink and tender, but otherwise, she appeared unharmed.

  “How are you feeling?” he asked, a clinical note entering his voice. “Does it hurt?”

  Ruth shrugged and extracted her hands from his. Her shoulders rounded in defeat; he hated to see that look on her. “Not much. It’ll fade soon enough.”

  The air between them had suddenly and drastically changed. There was no way to go back to kissing, not now when she was feeling so low. Henry reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, then leaned forward and pressed a small kiss to her forehead.

  “Do you want to go home?”

  Her nod was so small, he barely saw it. She gave him a guilty look, and it pained him. He didn’t want her to feel bad.

  “Okay. I’ll walk you.”

  She smiled gratefully. “Thank you.”

  Henry could feel Ruth’s hand brushing against his own as they walked side by side back to her house. She led them off the normal road, and it took longer than going through town, but Henry wasn’t going to complain about getting to spend more time in her company.

  It was a beautiful night. The heat had faded with the sun, leaving behind a sweet evening breeze. He’d missed Independence Fall’s cool nights when he’d lived in Denver. There were few lights on, and the stars shone bright and clear above them. The light from the moon illuminated half of Ruth’s face, making it easy to catch her pensive expression.

  Reaching out, Henry tangled their fingers together. Ruth didn’t pull away, and the small smile that curled the corner of her mouth made his heart leap in his chest. He had stopped questioning how he had fallen for her so easily. It was like he looked at her and his heart abandoned all sense and reason.

  He’d never felt so connected to another person so quickly. The only people who knew the whole sad history between him and his mother were his grandfather and Mrs. McClure, who’d been a part of his life nearly as long as Granddad. She was more motherly than the woman who had given birth to him.

  Henry had always been careful with his own heart, in that way. He’d dated, and he’d never lacked for friends, but there’d always been a small, scared part of himself that he held back. It was difficult to trust others. If there was anything his relationship with his mother had taught him, it was that people could and would hurt you, even if it didn’t make sense.

  There was something about Ruth, though. She made him forget his reservations. Her life had been so difficult, even if she wasn’t fully aware, yet, of all she had suffered at her father’s hands. He could see that awareness growing inside of her, and it was amazing to watch her take these revelations in stride as she continued to grow.

  She’d dealt with the loneliness of her powers, with the fear of them, entirely on her own for weeks and weeks. She’d had the presence of mind to know when she was no longer in control, and she’d sought help when she needed it. She was incredible, and beautiful, and so much more amazing than anyone else he’d ever met—how could he help but be enamored by her?

  Ruth squeezed his hand, her small, strong fingers wrapped up in his. There was a sly grin on her face, and he couldn’t help but return it. He felt giddy.

  They crossed the bridge and headed south to Schmidt Park and circled around to the back of her trailer, where the window was still propped open. She hesitated and then leaned in close. Her voice was a breathy whisper. “My father sleeps with his window open, so keep quiet, okay?”

  He nodded, then lifted their joined hands to his mouth and pressed a kiss onto the back of hers. “Can I see you again?”

  Ruth bit her lip, studying his face. She nodded. “When will you get the test results back?”

  The test results—he’d been so swept up in Ruth, he hadn’t thought about the blood he’d drawn from her. The lab was out of town, a hundred miles away in Denver. It would take days to get there and days to come back. “Probably not for a week or more,” he said, trying and failing to hide the note of disappointment in his voice.

  She, too, seemed distressed to realize it was so far away. “Can you find a way to let me know when they come in? Meet me outside of the church, like you did this morning?”

  He couldn’t wait that long. He couldn’t be that far away from her—her beautiful mind and soul and body—for that long. “What if
we practice your powers, work on your control?”

  Ruth blinked. “What?”

  “Maybe if you knew how to keep a handle on yourself, you wouldn’t be so scared all the time. I can … supervise. Make sure you’re not alone so that if something goes wrong, I can help.”

  There was a moment of silence as her face scrunched into a look of concentration. She blew out a breath, squaring her shoulders. “When?”

  “Tomorrow?”

  “So soon?” She giggled quietly. “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get sick of me?”

  He shook his head, suddenly serious. “Impossible.”

  Ruth stared up at him, her too-big eyes boring into his own. He wasn’t sure if he leaned down or if she went up on her toes—but suddenly they were kissing again, and he never wanted it to stop.

  “Tomorrow night. The lake. Ten o’clock?” he added, mumbling the words into her skin.

  She nodded and then went to the window. He put his hands on her waist, helping her to hoist herself up. His fingers lingered on her hips until she slipped inside.

  She waved good-bye, her figure little more than a shadow, and Henry felt like his heart stuttered in his chest.

  The doubts didn’t creep back in until Henry returned home. He’d stored the vial of Ruth’s blood in the kitchen, but having it there felt strange and unsanitary. He frowned and put it among his medical supplies, which he stored atop the refrigerator.

  Seeing the vial reminded Henry that Ruth was his patient—or, at least, she was supposed to be. What was he doing, kissing her like that? He’d promised himself he’d only invited her over for the sake of privacy and security during the medical procedure.

  Doctors weren’t supposed to get involved like this—it went against everything he’d sworn to do when he earned his medical license. How could he be objective when he couldn’t stop thinking about Ruth’s tempting lips?

  He couldn’t be. He never had been, not since that day in the general store, when all he’d wanted was to do something nice for her. He’d been smitten from the start, and now those feelings were only deeper. It was more than an infatuation. It was—it was important, the way he felt about Ruth.

  But that didn’t mean it was right.

  He wrestled with the guilt as he got ready for bed, changing into his pajamas and brushing his teeth. As he pulled his covers up to his chin, he knew he would not get much sleep that night. His head was too full, too confused.

  He knew what he ought to do. His oath required he put professional distance between him and Ruth, to make sure he treated her as he would any other patient. His heart required he kiss her as often as possible.

  No matter how he tried, Henry could not think of a way to reconcile the two inclinations.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Ruth

  For the second night in a row, Ruth prepared to sneak out. She did not want to imagine how her father would react if he found out. He would not question her. He would not care about her motives. He would correct her as he saw fit, and she probably wouldn’t be able to leave the house because of a black eye.

  But she remembered Henry’s lips against hers, the feeling of his tongue in her mouth, the rippling feeling of something completely new as she had moved against him, and how she’d wanted more and more of him.

  It was desire, she knew, and it was supposed to be wrong. Try as she may, however, Ruth struggled to feel guilty for what she’d experienced. It had been so entirely unprecedented, so intoxicating—her body wanted more, even if her mind cautioned her to be careful.

  She had so little experience with this sort of thing. Besides her expected betrothal to Arnold, the closest she had ever come to a crush was the first year of high school. She’d noticed how Charlie Huston had shot up six inches over the summer, and she had spent three months thinking about the broad line of his shoulders.

  The feelings had faded with time, especially since Ruth had spent most of its duration concerned as to what her father would say if he ever found out about it. Since then she had done her best to limit her interactions with the opposite sex.

  But this—this thing with Henry—she never could have expected it. How could she have known, before she’d met him, that there was anyone in the world who seemed to understand her so easily, so intuitively? And how could she have guessed he would be handsome and awkward and shy and wonderful and—

  Her heart felt near to bursting. Even if she knew her father wouldn’t approve, she couldn’t walk away from Henry. Not now, not when she’d only just discovered the joy of his lips on hers. There was so much unchartered territory. She wanted to pursue this, to follow this lead, to scout what had always seemed like such a foreign concept.

  But it was more than kissing that drove her to her window, opening it and working at popping out the screen as quickly and silently as possible. Ruth propped the window open with a book and slipped over the sill to the grass below. The kissing was important, of course, and she was very, very interested in it, had found herself distracted all day by the memory of it. But more than that, more than the desire to see him, to be near him, to soak in his company … Ruth wanted to learn how to control this thing inside of her.

  She couldn’t deny it anymore. She knew because she had tried to do so for far too long. The powers were real, and they were not going away. Maybe Henry could find a solution, but in the interim, she needed to know how to control herself.

  And, she thought, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad, to know how to use them. Maybe it would be … nice.

  The other powerful people in town … except for June, she barely knew any of them. Ruth didn’t doubt that she could go to June with this, and that her friend would be kind and supportive. She also suspected, however, that June would urge her to meet the other powerful people, and Ruth wasn’t quite ready for that. She’d spent weeks hearing about the evils of being associated with these so-called powerful people. It wasn’t going to be easy to see herself as one of them.

  The town had shunned her for most of her life. She couldn’t suddenly begin to trust people just because she had something in common with them.

  Her hesitations with Henry had melted away, but only because he had so consistently proved himself to be on her side. He wasn’t just trying to help her find a cure, he was helping her curb the accidents in the meantime. Henry did not have any reason to hurt her, and she was scared—to the very depths of her bones. The marrow inside of her was shaking. Trusting was hard. But, after years of experience, she knew that being alone was harder.

  She wanted to trust him. She wanted to kiss him, as well, but she wanted to trust him, first and foremost.

  The trip to the swim beach on the southeast edge of Lake Perseverance took twenty minutes by foot on a normal day. But this wasn’t a normal day, and Ruth stayed off the normal route. She crossed the bridge and immediately cut away from the road, fighting through the tall grass of the meadows and forests just north of town.

  The moon hung high in the sky, nearly full. It made her walk there much easier, illuminating her way. She had not often been out late at night. Edward was a believer in being early to bed and early to rise. She had never seen the night sky look so beautiful. Had it been any other night, she might have lingered.

  Tonight, however ….

  The lake suddenly loomed ahead of her, still and silent in the quiet night. Even if she didn’t have much in the way of friends, she had attended high school, and she was wise enough to know she needed to tread carefully. The lake was a popular spot for necking, if rumors were to be believed. She kept away from the water’s edge, hoping it would give her the stealth she needed.

  Henry was already there when she arrived, standing off the beach, back against a tree. He nervously scuffed the toe of his shoe back and forth in the dirt, and she took a moment just to watch him, see him when he didn’t know she could.

  Oh, but he was handsome.

  His dark hair gleamed in the moonlight, and he ruffled it as he fidgeted. It stuck up every which
way around him. He was lean, but she knew from the way he’d picked her up last night that being slim belied a more powerful body. She watched as he paced a bit. From a distance, it looked like he was rehearsing what he planned to say. He formed noiseless words, scrubbing at his face with a free hand. It was so endearing, she could hardly stand it.

  He was honest and real and open and kind and she liked him so much it somehow frightened her and made her feel alive at the exact same time.

  She cleared her throat, and Henry looked up, eyes gone wide in surprise. The moonlight made his face glow, and she felt herself move closer to him unbidden. A moth drawn to his light.

  “You came,” he said, scrambling to close the distance between them. “I was afraid I had scared you off.”

  The smile bloomed on her face without her even thinking about it. Even just looking at him made her feel strangely effervescent. “You didn’t.”

  “I’m so glad.”

  They hesitated for a moment, standing too close, smiling too wide. Nerves washed over Ruth’s body. This was happening, and it was real. It was all new and strange and somewhat terrifying. She didn’t know how to act, if she should flirt or laugh or—

  “So, should we get straight to work?” Henry asked, backing away.

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I know you can create flames, but how do they manifest? Can you create them anywhere, and can you shoot them? How do you keep them from hurting you? Do you have to think about something in particular or,” he paused, fished around in his back pocket, and pulled out a piece of paper. He opened it and waved it at her sheepishly. “I wrote down all my questions so I wouldn’t forget.”

  Ruth shook her head, trying to clear it. She had thought—but Henry was a professional. It made sense that he would want to focus and not to kiss her. Part of her wondered if maybe he’d been put off when her powers had come between them the night before.

  Tamping down her disappointment, she took the piece of paper from him and skimmed it. “I don’t know the answer to most of these. I don’t—I mean, I’ve just tried to ignore the power and cover the evidence when things went wrong.”