Blaze

Fifty-Two; Blaise

He grabs my wrist, halting my exploration, and my mind, my heart, my entire body protests. I'm so frustrated tears sting my eyes. Why did he stop me? Why does he always stop me?

He grins again and bites down gently on my bottom lip. He pulls away slowly, the rough edges of his teeth skimming across my wet, swollen flesh. The feeling resonates somewhere deeper. Wetter.

"Hi," he whispers, the first word spoken by either of us since he opened the door. A slow, satisfied grin spreads across his face. He dips down to kiss me again, a soft peck this time, before he bends down to grab my bag.

"How was your drive?"

How was my drive? I stood him up. I showed up at his door in the middle of the night five hours later. We just did that, whatever that was against the door, and he's asking me about my drive?

My body is still humming from his welcome, and I'm frustrated he seems so cool and confident. Unaffected. He reaches up and gently pulls my bottom lip from under my teeth. His brow is furrowed when he looks down on me.

"Blaise?" he asks. His face falls, "Blaise, what's wrong?" His hand moves to the side of my face and he smooths the crease between my eyes with his thumb. I realize I must be scowling.

"That was just....intense. I feel like my entire... everything... is in pieces and you're standing there, just," I wave my hand, gesturing a little too wildly up and down his body, "just, totally fine."

"I'm not fine. Not even close. I have imagined this scenario in my head more times than I should probably admit. Had this whole slow seduction planned. But now I just want to lock that door and spend the next forty-eight hours ravaging you."

Yes. Please.

"Okay," I eagerly acquiesce. He laughs, a warm, deep rumble deep in his chest. He leans against the back of the couch and leisurely crosses one leg over the other. His eyes slowly rake down my body and back up again. His smile falters and he looks at the ground. The atmosphere in the room seems to shift. The air feels thicker and heavier. I hope I'm wrong. I'm desperate to maintain the light, sexy vibe from moments before, but when he reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, I know I'm in trouble.

"When you didn't show, I just assumed..." he shakes his head.  "How did you?" He releases his neck and his hands rest on his narrow hips. "What are you doing here, Blaise?"

I don't want to talk about it. I just want to be here, back in his arms, and forget the last six hours.

"I thought it was obvious."

He chuckles briefly again. "Well, Yes. Kind of. I just mean, what happened?"

I stare down at the floor. "If there was any way I could have been there, I would. I got held up and it was completely out of my control and I am so sorry. But I'm here now." I raise my eyes to him, pleading.

He stares at me through narrowed eyes. "I'm trying to understand. It was your birthday party, I get it -"

"No," I interrupt him. "It wasn't that at all. I will tell you about everything, I promise. But please, I really don't want to talk about that now."

He watches me for several long, tense seconds. "Okay," he says simply, nodding his head. "Let's get you settled."

He reaches out for my hand and I place my palm in his. He laces our fingers together and leads me through the small, open living area. I look down at our hands. It's such a casual but intimate gesture. I like it.

"Let me give you the grand tour." He reaches down and turns on a small lamp. The entire room is aglow with a warm golden light. "This is the living room, dining room and kitchen." He swings his arm around in a wide arch.