Flames of the Forgotten

Chapter Twenty-One

Our eyes lock as we part, and both of us are breathless.

"That was... wow," I finally say. 

"I did okay, then?" he asks in a teasing tone, but I hear a hint of vulnerability in it. 

"It was amazing," I assure him, but then I start feeling nervous as soon as I say it. "I hope for you too..."

"Oh, sweet Sam, it was as perfect as you."

The wind is starting to howl around us but I could care less at the moment.

"I am hardly perfect," I say with a short laugh. 

"Are too." He brushes my wet hair from my face. "You're also soaked. We better get inside."

I notice how incredibly wet his head is, too, and dusted in big white flakes at that. The snow is coming down in damn near sheets around us. Yet, I feel none of it. I'm still too warm inside from that kiss.

Jax takes my hand in his, and the two of us start hustling through the still-fluffy fallen snow into the cabin.

We shed our wet coats and boots and hang them on the antler secured to the wall near the door. Jax heads to the fireplace to add a log, and I grab the deck of cards from the cabinet and set them down on the table while he fiddles with the fireplace.

Once the fire is roaring again, he stands and turns to face me. His eyes shimmer, looking more blue than grey the way they are all lit up. His lips look so warm and inviting, and the next thing I know, we're gravitating to each other.

I nearly fall into his arms as our lips meet again.

***

"This is my favorite thing in the world," Jackson murmurs as he softly strokes his hand up and down my back. It's so soothing I savor it as a content feeling washes over me.  

We stopped kissing long enough to play one card game of Go Fish, and then we retrieved the meat from the smoker before crawling into bed.

My head is comfortably curled up on his chest, my arm draped across it, and the blankets are wrapped around us.

"Even better than the kissing?" I ask with a little grin.

"Asking the hard-hitting questions," he jokes with a soft rumble of a laugh. "I love kissing you, Sam, but I love this even more."

"Yeah, me too," I agree, my lips curling back into the grin that seems to be permanent tonight.

"Yeah?"

"Mhm, I feel so safe when you hold me."

He tightens his hold a little, then leans down and kisses the top of my head.

"Have you had any more nightmares?"

"No, not since that night."

"Good."

"I don't hate it here," I confess. "I know that sounds weird, but the snow tonight was so pretty, and the steaks were amazing. I didn't appreciate stuff like that back home."

"I know what you mean. This place has been my prison since I was fifteen, but it's also my home, and I respect it. I even love it at times," he says.

"Too bad it can't be what it is, but with some electricity and plumbing."

"Yeah,  wouldn't that be something," he murmurs. He moves his hand up to my hair,  running his fingers through it. I marvel at how gentle his touches are with his calloused hands.

"Do you miss TV and music?" I ask.

"Music mostly. We had a little portable radio, but once the batteries died it was no good."