Free In the Firelight by Sibylla Matilde

of his head that stilled her and made her heart thud heavily in her chest. It unnerved her that she so quickly complied, and Shea took another long drink of her rum and Coke.
    “Oh my God, Trinity,” one of them exclaimed a little too loudly as they disappeared back into the crowd. “You’re right. He’s amazing!”
    “Wow!” the other chimed in with a squeal. “But what the hell is he doing with Shea?”
    Rhys looked down at Shea as she scoffed at the comment.
    “What’s wrong?” he laughed.
    “My God, you’d think they’d never seen a dude before,” Shea grumbled as she reached for her fourth heavily-alcohol-laden drink, finishing it off and holding her glass up to the bartender to indicate the need for yet another.
    “Are you jealous?” Rhys beamed as he studied her.
    “No. Of course not,” Shea argued a bit breathlessly. “It’s just kind of disgusting the way every woman in this town seems to be throwing themselves at you. Even some of the married ones.”
    “You are a little jealous, aren’t you?” he needled.
    Shea grabbed her new rum and Coke, taking another long drink through the tiny straw as she looked up at him with a bit of annoyance. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” she finally muttered, very unconvincingly.
    “Well, would you like to know a secret?” Rhys teased, taking a sip of his beer. He set the bottle on the bar, and then reached his fingers up to trace the curve of her jaw. His hand was chilled from holding the cold bottle, and the cool touch tingled and teased her skin. “There’s only one woman in this town that has kept me awake at night.”
    “What the hell?” Her eyes flew back up to his. “I barely know you. And you expect me to believe that you’re already sleepless over me? Me… little tomboy Shea.” She snorted in a rather unladylike fashion.
    “Sweetheart, I don’t see you as a tomboy… at all. You are really pretty fucking hot, you know, with your lips that are just begging to be kissed. And, seriously, your body is killer.” The hand on her ass circled slightly with a caress, then gripped again and pulled her just that much closer. “And, last night, I could swear I heard you moan erotically in my dreams.”
    Shea blanched, feeling as though she’d just been socked in the gut. Oh my God! Had he heard her? No… no no no. Holy shit… Not good.
    “I’m sure it was just my imagination, though… right?” he quietly said in a low, husky tone. His eyes burned with an intensity that called to her and caused a shiver to course through her body. He was effortlessly tearing down her defenses.
    Shea took another drink, a longer drink. Her new one was almost half gone already, and the alcohol, along with his close proximity and his seductive words, was turning her legs to jelly.
    “You’re kind of stuck in my head,” Rhys murmured softly and brushed his hand along the delicate curve of her ear.
    “You’d have much better luck with some of the other ladies in town, you know,” Shea said softly. “I don’t do this. I don’t sleep around. I don’t want you.”
    “I don’t think you’re being totally honest with me… or yourself.”
    “Besides,” Shea continued, ignoring his words and trying hard not to feel what he was making her feel, “you don’t want me either. Not really. You’re just intrigued because I’m the only set of ovaries in town that doesn’t flutter my eyelashes at you and giggle incessantly.”
    “You’re wrong, sweetheart. I do… I do really want you. I’m honestly not sure why I want you so much.” Rhys traced his fingertip down the curve of her neck, along the protruding collar bone to her shoulder. “You are infuriating,” he said softly, his voice almost a caress, an endearment as he tipped his head down to whisper against her skin. “You are stubborn and feisty. But, for some fucked up reason, I see your face when I close my eyes.” His lips tickled the sensitive skin behind her ear as his words