Steaming Desire - Melissa Young

Chapter Four - Kiara

I tried to keep my eyes closed for several hours, but they kept opening. Every time I found myself staring at the wall I got pissed, exhausted from the long day, I just wanted to rest. But I could not for the life of me fall asleep.

It was a weird mix of being too tired to stay awake, but too curious to fall asleep.

Curious about what? I sighed to myself, knowing the answer to the question prior to asking it.

The two strangers under the deck were the thing keeping me awake, and when I allowed myself to understand that, I knew there was a single way to fix it.

I draped my hand over my face and sat up. My arms swung as I tried to untangle my body from the quilt that I had been rolled up in. Folding it away from my body, I threw a leg over the fabric.

The hammock dipped from the weight shift and the ropes twisted. It turned upside down and my body landed on the hard floors with a loud thump.

I landed on my ass and had to grab my face in order to not make a sound. Trying to keep my breaths steady and low, I looked around.

My brain couldn't recognize any change, and light snores still traveled through the room. I released my hand from its strong grip on my face and looked up to see that James stirred in his sleep.

I stayed down for a minute more, to be sure that nobody awoke from the chaos, before I stood up on unsteady legs. Trying to navigate through the dark room and finding the drawer turned out to be quite difficult in the dark room.

Pulling it out and feeling around in complete darkness, my fingers collided with something metallic, my nails against it created a cling. I picked it up by the handle and felt around again. My pinky found the small paper box.

I clutched it with a tight grasp in a pathetic attempt to reduce the sound. Patting out of the room in my normal clothes, too tired to change out of it yesterday. The shoes I put on in the dark room were not mine, slipping and landing on my butt with a loud thump. Bringing out the small matchbox from my pocket, I pushed one end. Evidence of matches littering the deck appeared as the quiet crackling of their landing moved through the air.

I threw my head back and tried to keep from screaming out my frustration, and instead groaned to the night sky. Breathing in the cool air that fought with my hair and tore at my patience.

My fingers, tender from the harsh wind's cold grasp, felt around and found the small mountain of matches. I picked one up and swiped it against the edge of the matchbox I held. Placing it against the wick of the oil lamp, it sparked and fought the hot stick before it gave in and got devoured by it.

I messed with the wheels on the sides of the ancient oil lamp. The flame grew and drank the oxygen before it laid down again. I blew at the match, and it gave in with a sizzle.

My pointer finger gripped with furious intensity at the small loop at the side of the kerosene lamp. Still trying to convince myself to stop my determined feet from continuing down the creaky stairs, I knew it was needless.

Doing something that I shouldn't do sparked a warmth in my chest. Every step that brought me closer to the men burned between my thighs, making me chew on the inside of my lip.

I couldn't escape the thoughts in my head, the thoughts that asked all the questions, the small voice in my head that whispered meaningless words.

Sigh, I had to remind myself that the questions were not the important part. Thinking back to what the blond man had said, something about if I did this, it was not for my sake.