Beyond Heat

by Ashley Logan

  Peering over the bed, I see Scarlet roll sleepily out of her blanket, rubbing her eyes.

  “Scarlett? What the-”

  “Did you just kick me?” she asks, touching her hip with a frown.

  “Not on purpose. Why are you sleeping on my floor? I nearly stood on you.”

  Standing, she looks around as if lost and then realization crosses her face. “I came to talk to you, but you were asleep. I was going to wait,” she says, retrieving the blanket I gave her from the floor and covering herself with it, “But I must have fallen back asleep.”

  “Great story. I have to pee.” Standing up, I walk out.

  When I get back, she’s still standing where she was, looking irresistibly cute peeking out of her fluffy blanket with her mess of blond mingling with the shaggy fibers and her sexy legs on display below. Swallowing hard, I slowly return to my bed.

  “You still want to talk to me?” I ask, pulling my own blanket up. “Even after I inexcusably vented years of rage at you?”

  Scarlett pulls her blanket tighter and eyes the end on my bed. “Just because you’re mad at me, doesn’t mean I’d leave you to be tortured,” she says, using my own words. “Can I sit?”

  I move my legs out of the way.

  Organizing herself into a small mountain of creamy fluff, Scarlett sighs as her glistening green eyes meet mine.

  “I’m sorry I followed you and that I didn’t leave when I should have. I do stupid things sometimes, because I have this insatiable curiosity, especially when it comes to you. I should have waited for you to be ready, but I didn’t, and I messed up. I hate you being mad at me. And I thought your mom seemed really nice, and I’m so sorry you have been dealing with these horrible things all these years alone and...” her voice trails off as her voice chokes into sobs.

  Scooting closer, I pull her pile of fluff into my lap, folding my arms around her.

  “I know you’re sorry, Scar. You weren’t to know things would be like that, and I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you sooner. I didn’t want to bother you with the tragedy of it, and I didn’t want to scare you away. I thought she might.” Sighing, I tighten my arms around her. “Turns out I was the scary one.”

  She sniffs and wriggles in my arms so she is looking up at my face. “You were pretty scary,” she says with a little smile. “But I knew the anger wasn’t all for me.” Sighing herself, she looks away again. “You’ve been putting yourself under a lot of pressure lately.”

  “I have,” I agree, “But there’s no-one else to pay for her care, and her damages, and I’ll be damned if I don’t see her taken care of after she made so many sacrifices for me.”

  “Was that phone call you got in the woodshed about her?” Scarlett asks, her voice sounding odd.

  “It was. Why are you sounding scared?”

  Scarlett releases a long breath and relaxes into my arms. “I had thought that maybe you had a child,” she says with obvious relief, only to stiffen again. “You don’t right?”

  “Have a kid?” I ask, almost laughing in surprise. “No I don’t have a kid. If I did, I’d probably be annoying everyone by shoving photos in their faces and gushing about how amazing they were at dancing, or some shit. I can’t even keep my dick up long enough to come. How the fuck would I have a kid?”

  Scarlett’s brows angle down. “I thought maybe you knocked up some girl in high school and that’s why you needed to join the army instead of go to college - because you had to provide for spawn, and obviously army life isn’t the easiest thing for a young mother in need of support, so the relationship ended, but you still had responsibilities!” she says, having formulated a whole fictional background story for me. I can’t help laughing and a fuzzy paw lashes out, hitting me in the arm. “It made sense to me!”

  Pulling her in close again, I kiss the top of her head. “You are quite the storyteller.”

  “Shut up. Tell me the last two secrets before I hurt you. Knowing about how much you love your mom only makes me like you more, so stop being such a scared-y cat.”

  “Meow.”

  Her eyes narrow at me and she grabs my nipple through my t-shirt and twists. My laughter instantly turns to a hiss of pain and I relent.

  “Okay!”

  “Okay what?” she says, releasing the pressure, but keeping hold of me.

  “I’ll tell you.”

  “Good,” she says, letting go and patting my nipple gently to soothe the sting. “Because I meant what I said. I can’t make an informed decision about you without knowing all the facts. How bad are we talking with this one? Bigger or smaller than the secretly ill mom thing?”

  I take a big breath. “That depends.”

  “On what?”

  I look at the ceiling and focus on calming my rapid heartbeat. “On whether you think you might want any future with me.”

  “What do you mean?”

  Sack up Bruno. Just say it.

  “I can’t have kids.”

  Her green eyes blink at me. “That’s what you’re scared of telling me?” she asks, her eyes creasing at the corners as she looks fit to laugh her ass off. “I hate kids! Well, I don’t hate them, but I’m really not very fond of them. Why do you think I was so upset when I thought you had one? Urgh! I thought if I wanted to be with you I’d have to learn to like one. I don’t want kids, and I don’t even think my scars would stretch enough to accommodate growing one. If by some miracle, I changed my mind, I’d be pretty screwed anyway and have to consider adoption, but I don’t see it happening,” she says, shaking her head as she looks me over. “I’m probably too selfish to share the attention I’ll be getting from the would-be father anyway,” she adds, biting her lip as her eyes come to rest on my mouth.

  I’ve broken into a grin and she is following suit. Pulling her face to mine I kiss that beautiful smile, and her cheeks and her neck. She utters a growl, pushes me back on my bed and straddles me.

  Taking in her glorious body as she stares down at me with a look in her eye that I’ve only dreamed of, I feel myself instantly aroused. She feels it to, and wets her lips. Peeling off her tank top, she throws it behind her, displaying her beautiful breasts with their pert nipples begging for attention.

  Sitting up beneath her, I palm her full breasts, bringing them to my mouth one at a time and drawing soft sighs and whimpers from Scarlett as her hips rock into me and her hands run over my scalp, reminding me of something.

  I recall her in the shower with me. It’s just a flash, a sliver of memory as she carefully washed the paint and the pain away. I moan into her soft skin and she trembles under my hands.

  Lifting my shirt, she leans back and pulls it over my head, throwing that away too. Pressing her skin to mine, we both gasp slightly at the electricity between us. Everywhere our skin is touching comes alive with the heat and vibration of it. Pulling her closer, I strive to have more of her touching me. My mouth finds hers again with a growl as my hands run up and down her back. Pulling her backwards on the bed with me, I slide my hands under the band of her little cotton shorts and grab her ass, grinding her into me like a jerk.

  Breaking away from her mouth, I release my grip on her bottom. “Sorry. I got carried away.”

  She sits up, a little cranky-looking. “I liked it,” she says, returning my hands to her backside as her hips move in a painfully slow circle over my dick. The heat of her is enough to make him twitch at her and she bites her bottom lip as she smiles.

  Growling, I grab her ass and swing her onto her back beneath me, planting myself between her thighs. My mouth travels her body, licking, nipping, tasting. At her stomach, I smile as she shivers when I gently kiss and nuzzle her sensitive scars.

  “God I love you,” I whisper against her skin as her hands stroke my hair, my neck, my shoulders and her hips try to rise from the bed to find the friction she’s seeking. Sitting up, I pull her little shorts off and toss them over my shoulder.

  Taking a moment to devour her with my eyes, I shake my head at t
he wonder of her. “So damn beautiful, Scar. No wonder my dick wants to rise from the dead for you.”

  “Take your shorts off and let him live,” she pants, her chest heaving deliciously as she does. “I want him. Now. Do you have a condom?”

  Frowning, I sit back on my heels. I haven’t needed a condom since the Viagra incident five years ago that went horribly wrong. I threw away the box and never bought them again. Even when Scarlett let me touch her, I didn’t think I’d ever get to have her until maybe that night in the woodshed, but then things went crazy and I almost lost her. Now she’s in my bed, wanting me. My dick is up for the challenge and I can’t have her. What a fucking idiot!

  Closing my eyes, I shake my head and sigh.

  “I might,” she says, lifting her leg over me and trotting out of the room naked. I have no idea what time it is, but I am very glad only Violet shares our short hallway and that she is staying with Serge right now.

  By the cursing and slamming of drawers coming from Scarlett’s room, I’m guessing the search isn’t going well. She comes back in, closing the door behind her.

  “I can’t find anything since I cleaned up my room,” she admits quietly. Her eyes rise from the floor to me and travel over my body as she chews her lip in thought.

  “Do we really need one?” she asks, almost to herself as she steps closer. “I mean, you can’t get me pregnant and you haven’t had sex in years. I presume your last test was clean?”

  I nod, wondering when would be the best time to mention there’s not much point in worrying about it since my dick has gone as limp as a wet noodle.

  “And my last test was clean. That was three months ago, but I haven’t slept with anyone in that time,” she says, still pondering out loud. My eyes snap to hers.

  “You didn’t hookup that night you donned your war paint and went on the prowl with Lexi?”

  Meeting my eyes, she shakes her head. “I tried to, but couldn’t go through with it. After you made me feel so... treasured, other people became very unappetizing. What war paint?” she says, frowning at me with her hand on her hip. I love that she doesn’t even care that she’s standing in front of me completely naked.

  “You know, when you put on your layers of gunk and powder so you can wear a short skirt and not worry if men can see your scars,” I answer as my eyes take a leisurely stroll around everything she’s got.

  “It was a dress, and shut up,” she barks, marching back to the bed and pushing me backwards. “Just because you think I’m beautiful-”

  “I do think you’re beautiful,” I say, cutting her off and wrapping my hand over the finger she’s poking at my chest. “And I would love to be inside you with, or without a condom, but I don’t think now is the time. Sorry.”

  Her eyes drop briefly before coming back to mine. “That was my fault. I shouldn’t have taken so long. Sorry.”

  Sighing, I bundle her into my lap again. “There will be other times, I’m sure,” I say, kissing along her bare shoulder and slipping my arm under hers to gain access to her breasts, massaging them gently into peaked perfection.

  Scarlett pushes my hand away. “Uh uh. I don’t want this to be another Scarlett-only pleasure-fest. I’m giving myself to you and you’re bloody-well going to take me, if it’s the last thing I do!” She huffs a little and pushes blond strands behind her ear. “No pressure,” she adds, cringing at herself.

  I laugh, a little nervous now. “No pressure huh?”

  She takes a deep breath and nods. “No pressure. In fact, I’m taking sex off the table for now,” she says, backing away off the bed and wrapping herself in the cream blanket. Nodding to herself in assurance, she moves towards the door. “If this is all meant to happen, it’ll happen. I’m going to give you some space, to recover from my insensitivity and I’ll see you later. Okay?”

  She doesn’t wait for me to answer. “Do you think you’ll be up for work tonight? Because I wouldn’t mind it if you wanted to start watching me again,” she says, almost shyly. “I kinda like it.”

  With that she disappears from view, shutting my door behind her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  SCARLETT

  “So how are things going with Serge?” I ask Violet when we meet up for lunch. “Have you talked to him about your issues?”

  “They’re legitimate concerns, and yes,” she says, unable to hide her smile. “He was thinking the same thing and said he’d love for me to move in with him when I’m ready.”

  “When you’re ready? He’s so sweet,” I say, wrinkling my nose as I roll an olive out of my salad. “So did you jump him and say I’m ready now, baby?”

  Snorting, Violet flicks salt at me. “Shut up. I said I’d go home and pack and to expect me back for dinner,” she says in a rush and hides her face. “I felt like such a dick, but he just... made me feel better,” she concludes, keeping the sordid details to herself.

  “Good. Have you told Nina you won’t be working the pole anymore?”

  She snorts again. “The pole is your thing, not mine. And yes. I told her I’d still love to help out when I can, but that I am now largely off the dance line up.”

  “Good for you! I’ll miss you like crazy, but I’m glad you’ve found the life you want.”

  “And what of the life you want?” Vi asks, stirring her iced chocolate. “You and Bruno sorted out your hot and cold to make something warm yet? What did he get you for your birthday? That could be a way to tell if he’s got what it takes to tame you.”

  “Why would he want to tame me? He loves my wild side. You should see how happy he gets when we’re arguing and I try to hit him.”

  Vi chokes on her mouthful of pie. When she’s done coughing, she gives me a long hard look. “I don’t even know where to start with that information,” she says, shaking her head. “Are you happy?”

  Taking a deep breath, I look around the deserted cafe as I exhale. Two in the afternoon really is the best time for lunch.

  “Beyond the secrets, and the drama the secrets create because he’s over-valued their importance to me, I think I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. He loves me way too much, and that used to scare the shit out me, but even when he’s out of his mind angry at me, he still loves me to pieces,” I explain, still not quite understanding it. “He’s there for me, no matter what I do, or how I feel about myself and the thing is, he makes me forget the bad things I see in myself, because he only sees the good. I was so busy being angry at the world, that I didn’t even notice what I was missing until he showed me just a fraction of how he felt about me. Then I was hooked. I missed him so much when he wasn’t there to joke or argue with. I’ve spent all this time trying to feel comfortable in my scarred skin, but I don’t even think about it when I’m with him. It’s like I don’t even have skin.”

  “Gross,” Vi mutters before shaking her head. “Sorry. I know you’re saying that what you have with Bruno goes deep beyond the surface, but as soon as you said no skin, I couldn’t stop getting visual images of your naked muscles and connective tissues.”

  She shudders and I laugh.

  “You’re so weird. Do you miss Med. School?”

  “Not in the least,” she says without hesitation. “Back to the point. He loves you. He makes you happy. How do you feel about him?”

  Sighing, I lean back in my chair and tighten my pony tail. “I want him to feel the same way I do. Loved and happy and cherished. But I don’t know how to do it. I’m selfish, where he’s selfless. I’m no good at the love stuff. For my birthday, along with a gorgeous cream version of his blanket, he painted me the most amazing picture. It’s like the windy meadow I got at the exhibition, but completely different,” I say frowning. “I’m not making sense. I mean, the paintings are of different things, but the feeling in them is the same. It’s like he pours his love into the paint, and every stroke has meaning for him. I can’t explain it, but I think the meadow is me.”

  I think about the wall he’s been painting at the rest home, and how th
e feeling is different, because he’s painted it for his mom. The love in it is like an embrace; a way he can be with her, when there is no other way. Dabbing a tear from my eye, I look to Violet. The corner of her mouth twitches.

  “So...?” she prompts.

  “I am so hopelessly in love with him that it hurts,” I confess. “I want to make him happy. I need for him to be happy. And he still has one more secret to share, and it scares me what it might be. What if it’s something terrible? What if he’s dying? What will I do then?” Openly blubbering now, I blow my nose on my paper napkin. “Urgh! Listen to me, I’m so freakin’ selfish!”

  Violet laughs at me. “He looks very healthy to me, Scar. How about, because you love him so much, it doesn’t matter what the secret is? You already said he’s not a very good judge of how they’ll affect you, which more reflects their importance to him, I would think. This one is probably just the same. Why even think about it?”

  Sniffing, I dab my eyes again, taking calming breaths. “You’re right. I should just set my curiosity and worry aside and just enjoy him. I love him. He loves me. Nothing else matters.”

  “Exactly,” Vi says, leaning back and sipping iced chocolate through her straw as if celebrating a job well done.

  I clear my throat and sip my lime juice. “So, you’re staying with Serge tonight?”

  THE GIRLS MADE ME DANCE last again.

  It’s almost a rule, whoever has the most pent up sexual frustration, or lust vibe going on, gets the last spot. I’d scanned the crowd, looking for Bruno. He was there in the shadows. The mere sight of him was enough to send shivers down my spine.

  On stage, I gave it everything I had. Gave him everything.

  Sitting in debrief now, I can’t concentrate on anything being said, because I can feel his eyes on me. Risking a peek, I glance over my shoulder to where he’s sitting.

  What I’d hoped would be a quick look becomes terribly delayed when I get trapped by his eyes. The rest of the room forgotten, I lose myself in his smoldering gaze, knowing he’s thinking about what he’d like to do to me after debrief.