GUARDED FLAMES

CHAPTER EIGHT

NIKOLAI

i couldn’t sleep again.

this girl—this woman—was takin over my fkn mind.

her lips. her body. the way she looks at me like i’m not broken. like i’m worth somethin.

but i ain’t. i never was.

i tried everythin. cold showers. gun range. even callin up an old flame, just to see if i still had control.

but when she opened the door in that short ass pink robe tonight... i swear my soul left my fkn body.

i told myself i’d walk away.

and yet.

here i was.

standin outside her door again.

hand raised.

not knockin.

just fighting myself.

my fingers were shakin.

just walk away, i told myself. be the bigger man. protect her, don’t touch her.

but then the door creaked open. just a bit. like she knew.

and there she was. sleepy eyes. flushed cheeks. no damn robe.

just a thin white tank top and lace panties.

“you comin in or you gonna stand there all night?” she said, voice rough with sleep.

i lost the war.

i stepped in. closed the door behind me.

“eva,” i breathed. “you’re makin this real hard.”

“good,” she said, walkin up to me slow. “maybe it’s time you stop being so hard on yourself.”

i grabbed her. couldn’t help it.

one second she was smilin.

next, she was pinned to the door, legs around my waist, her mouth crushed against mine.

i kissed her like i needed air.

like i was drownin.

like she was the only thing keepin me alive.

she moaned. loud. needy.

my hands slid up her thighs, grabbed her ass, squeezed. her fingers tangled in my hair, yankin, gaspin, breathin my name like a prayer.

“nikolai... please.”

god.

i wanted to ruin her.

but i couldn’t.

not yet.

i pulled back, forehead pressed to hers, strugglin to breathe.

“tell me to stop,” i whispered.

“i won’t,” she said.

“tell me it’s wrong.”

“i want wrong.”

her hips rolled into mine, and i fkn snapped.

i carried her to the bed. tossed her down. ripped my shirt off.

her eyes went wide when she saw the scars.

i froze.

but she didn’t.

she reached up, touched one real gentle. “these don’t scare me.”

i stared at her.

and then i finally—finally—let myself have her.

not soft.

not slow.

just real.

like i’d been waitin my whole damn life.

and she?

she gave herself to me like she already belonged.

like we were fire and gasoline and the world could burn if it wanted.

and maybe it would.

but right then?

i didn’t care.