{9} Playing With Fire

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I spent a good twenty minutes with my face buried against Damon Fox's back. I was in such close proximity that I could feel the warmth of his stomach under my hands as I tried my best not to have a panic attack in the midst of his joyride. As crazy as it sounded aloud, I had always had a the peculiar thought that Damon didn't radiate warmth like a normal human being; that his body was as cold as his heart.

"Isn't this amazing?" Damon shouted. I had to crane my neck to hear him over the loud purring of the engine.

I shook my head. "If by amazing, you mean totally going to get us killed, I agree!"

I felt his laughter vibrate through him, his head shaking as he turned sharply and nearly ejected me off the bike altogether. I hugged his torso even tighter, squeezing my eyes shut as I buried my face in his leather jacket.

The bike started to slow the harder I dug my nails into Damon's stomach. Eventually, the engine died and everything around us returned to normal. The stores stood straight, side by side in the strip mall rather than one massive off-white blur.

I didn't have to lift my head and meet Damon's eyes to know they were as amused as the taunting smile that played on his lips. My torture and humiliation was all a joke to him. He took pleasure from seeing me squirming under his intense looks, practically falling to my knees and pleading as he had hoped for in the beginning.

I miraculously was able to pry my fingers from his waist and drop them on to my lap before he could get in a joke.

"I think I'm going to be sick." I mumbled the moment I stepped off the bike. I grasped the handle bar of the motorcycle to keep the world from spinning around me, squeezing my eyes shut in hopes the sudden wave of vertigo would dissipate.

"You're such a girl." Damon muttered under his breath, crossing his arms.

I straightened out and gestured toward my body. "The last time I checked I was."

A smirk tugged at his lips.

"I could make sure if you'd like." he joked.

I shook my head and turned my back to him, tuning out his mindless chatter as I took in our surroundings. We were in the parking lot of an abandoned apartment building. Tilting my head back, I examined the different levels until my eyes fell on the reminisce of what looked to be a tenants apartment that caught fire.

My lips thinned. "Why are we here?"

"I live here." he responded with a shrug. "I need to pick something up before we catch up with your little friend and Ryder."

Before I could question him further, he started across the parking lot. Running to keep up, I was winded by the time I reached the front door of the building.

"How can you live in an abandoned building?" I asked breathlessly.

He shrugged. "It's not abandoned."

I muttered incoherently under my breath as I trailed along behind him, keeping close to prevent from getting lost or stuck.

Damon skipped the first two steps, outstretching his hand without turning to face me or give me an explanation of why they couldn't have pressure put on them. Grasping his hand, I allowed him to pull me up. We continued up a couple more flights of stairs, giving me the startling realization that I was in no way fit or healthy; I need to work out more.

"Damon!" a chirp echoed through the quiet building. My head whipped up, surprised to find a genuine smile taking the place of the emotionless mask that Damon wore on a daily basis.

Playing With Fire (Previously Burning The Bad Boy) (UNDER RECONSTRUCTION)Wo Geschichten leben. Entdecke jetzt