Free In the Fire by Eileen Griffin, Nikka Michaels

much bare skin against my almost fully clothed body as he watched us in the mirror sent need flooding through my system. Ethan’s hand sped up, his touch growing rough as I arched into him.
    I barely heard his next words. “I missed you.”
    The longing in his voice pushed me over the edge. My breathing hitched as I cried out, and I arched into his hand as I came. The feeling made my knees buckle and I sagged back against his body.
    When my breathing finally evened out, I turned in his arms. The movement must have overbalanced him. Ethan stumbled backward. His eyes were still unfocused and bleary as he leaned hard against the glass shower door. Guilt tugged at me as he visibly fought a wave of dizziness. I hastily tugged up my pants and reached out to help him. He batted away my hands and took a deep breath as he closed his eyes.
    “Are you okay?”
    “Yeah, I just need to sit down.”
    Confused as hell at what had just happened, I helped him tug off his soaking wet boxer briefs. As efficiently as I could after what had just happened, I pulled the sweats up his body and handed him the T-shirt. I looked away to give him a semblance of privacy, until he made a pained sound of frustration as he wrestled with the shirt. I covered his hands with mine to stop the frantic flail of his arms, and looked him directly in the eyes as I gently pulled the shirt over his head.
    I wrapped one arm around his waist and led him out of the bathroom to the sofa in the sitting area of my room. The silence grew heavy around us and I kept my mouth shut, too afraid and needy to break the moment.
    When we made it to the sofa I nudged him to sit. Instead, he turned to face me. Even intoxicated, the way Ethan looked at me now, heavy-lidded eyes tinged with heat, was the way I’d remembered him. No anger, no accusations, no bitterness, just a hint of
my
Ethan. But he wasn’t my Ethan anymore, was he?
    When he slid his hands up my arms to cup my face I should have moved. I should have told him no. But I didn’t. Instead my heart warred with my mind over what was right and what I had dreamed of since we said our last goodbyes all those years ago. This was the reason I couldn’t stay with anyone. No one but Ethan had ever made me feel alive like this.
    I watched with shock as he leaned in close and brushed his lips over mine. A sigh escaped him as his fingers curled against my skin. Overwhelmed by how good he felt against me, I closed my eyes and breathed him in.
    When I parted my lips, Ethan’s tongue brushed against mine and my resistance broke. My fingers tightened against the fabric of his borrowed T-shirt, pulling him closer as he deepened the kiss. I startled when a hint of metal brushed my tongue, knowing I’d discovered a new piercing.
    Ethan’s low groan echoed mine and I turned my head, kissing him deeper. Passion warred with possessive need as he responded, both of us vying for dominance as we each tried to control the kiss. This was too much. With a pained sound, I pulled back, my breath uneven as I rested my forehead against his. As good as this felt, it was too much to digest after too much time had passed, coupled with alcohol and bad judgment.
    “You need to sleep.”
    He nodded and I stepped back and grabbed a blanket from the closet, nudging him to lie on the couch. I spread it over him and Ethan’s eyes finally closed as his body sank against the cushions. When I straightened up to shut off the lamp next to the couch I froze at his barely audible words.
    “I would have chosen you.”
    All the barbs he’d flung at me earlier hadn’t pierced me as much as those five words did. I lingered a few minutes, wanting him to say more. Afraid for him to say more. But his breathing evened out and his usually twitchy body stilled as he slipped into a deep sleep.
    After I stripped off my sticky clothing, I cleaned up and pulled on a pair of boxers. The soft snores coming from the couch told me Ethan was still out. Before I could go out