Free Fused (Lost in Oblivion #4.5) by Cari Quinn, Taryn Elliott

and dripping.” Lila shoved back her wet hair and grabbed a shirt off the kitchen counter. “Here. Put this on. And pants,” she called as the door shut in her face.
    Then she dropped her forehead against the wood. “I’m never having three glasses of wine and oversleeping again.”
    As images of a drunk, naked Lila showering with her stepson—Christ—spun through his head, Nick tossed his bag of bagels on the counter. It was a miracle they’d survived this long. “Is he your lover?”
    She whirled to face him, and he noted with satisfaction that she’d lost the unnatural paleness he’d glimpsed after bursting through the door. Now her cheeks were a fiery pink. “Oh my God. You are a complete pervert. What are you even doing here? I didn’t ring you into this building.”
    He crossed his arms and waited.
    “No, I’m not sleeping with Michael, you sick bastard. I would never.” She sputtered. “Could never even dream of it. I helped raise him. He was thirteen when I met him.”
    “You’ve both taken a shower recently,” he pointed out. “And he’s barely any younger than we are.”
    “Two bathrooms, jackass, and what part of ‘don’t owe you an explanation’ do you not understand?” She marched to the counter, ripped open his bag of bagels and bit into the first one she withdrew. Actually, bit into it was a misnomer.
    He’d seen lions on Animal Planet attack a fresh carcass more delicately than Lila mauled that garlic and parmesan bagel.
    It was beyond hot.
    He braced his forearms on the counter, leaning forward so he could study her more closely. Luckily she was too occupied rage-eating to notice. “Why didn’t you ever tell me you had a stepson?”
    “Two.”
    “You have two stepsons?”
    “Yes. One loves me, one hates me. Do you want to know anything else about me?”
    “Yeah.” He flicked his fingertip along her collarbone to catch a stray drop of water. She went as still as if he’d said he was going to kill her with his bare hands. “Do you have any idea what I would do to some guy who dared touch you?”
    Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. “I’m starting to get some idea. And guess what? That’s not your call to make. You don’t own me or my body. Just because you woke it up again doesn’t mean—what are you doing?”
    He circled the counter and came up behind her, lowering his head until he could sniff the fragrant waves of her hair. Apples. Always apples with her. Now that he’d been to her family’s orchard, a wealth of memories flooded through him from that single scent. Memories of rolling with her across a bed with firelight skimming her curves right before his hands followed the same path. Kissing her beside a twinkling Christmas tree. Driving like a maniac through a snowstorm with her for the simple joy of hearing her laugh.
    “I’m breathing you in,” he murmured. “See, you’ve told me I can’t have you anymore. I can’t touch,” he ghosted his fingertips along the damp side of her neck, just avoiding contact, “can’t taste,” he moved his mouth in close until it hovered just beside her ear, “can’t slide inside you,” his hips lightly brushed her ass, “but I can smell you. I can look until I’m so hard I can’t walk. And I can remember.”
    “Nick,” she said shakily. “We can’t do this.”
    “We’re not doing anything. You asked me to step back, so I did. I have.” He inhaled one last time, then made himself put distance between them. “But you can’t make me forget. Nothing will ever make me do that.”
    “It’s been one day.” She swallowed again and tore off another hunk of bagel. “Give it some time.”
    “Darlin’, I could wait a lifetime and never forget what we were. Maybe your husband is stupid enough not to realize what he had, but I’m not. I know.”
    “A couple weeks isn’t enough time to know much of anything.”
    “That might be true, if I hadn’t been looking at you every damn day up until the point you came