Page 61 of Burning Justice

She shifted her head, only enough to look up at his face. Inadvertently, her lips grazed the tawny bristle on his chin. Gemma held her breath, uncertain as to whether she should move away. Did she want to?

Maybe. Possibly. Not really. No. There it was. A definitive no.

Continuing to study him felt weird, but she couldn’t help it. His body was beautiful. His chest continued to rise and fall, calling attention to his thick pecs, and from there, to the line of hair arrowing down to the waistline of his cargo pants.

She closed her eyes and inhaled, trying to decipher his scent. Not his usual cologne. This was hunky man, yet slightly sweet with a dash of milk and honey. Eerily similar to—

The oatmeal, milk, and honey soap in my bathroom.

While she’d been asleep, he must have gone upstairs and cleaned up.

Images of Brett standing in her shower, naked, as water rained down on his head, shoulders, chest, and everything else had her snapping open her eyes. She blinked, then blinked again to clear away the erotic images playing out in her head. No need for her mom’s high-test coffee to wake her up.

Time to end this.

She felt like a twisted voyeur. Slowly, she began easing away when her hand came into contact with the uneven skin on the side of his lower back. Last night, she hadn’t gotten a long look at his burns. She levered on her elbow and leaned over. The part of his lower back just barely visible was slightly pink, raised, and angry-looking.

Gently, she ran the tip of her fingers across the skin, torturing herself by imagining what it must have been like to have hot flames licking at her flesh. Her stomach twisted at the thought.

Suddenly, Brett’s abdominals tightened, and a hand shot out, grabbing her wrist.

She gasped.

Dark blue, stormy eyes held her transfixed.

“I, um.” She swallowed, and her face heated. This was so embarrassing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to take advantage of you while you were sleeping, I—”

“I wasn’t sleeping.” His voice was low, raspy, sexy, and Gemma felt the vibrations from where he held her wrist all the way to her toes. “And you weren’t doing anything I didn’t want you doing.”

“Oh.” That sounded dumb, but it was the only thing that popped out of her mouth.

“You can touch me there,” he whispered. “Hell, you can touch me anywhere.”

Her mouth fell open. Anywhere? Somehow, she managed to clamp her mouth shut before she uttered another infernally stupid response.

He released her wrist and sat up. “Go ahead. Touch me.”

Hesitantly, she skimmed her fingers across his back—all of his back—including his burns. As she continued her exploration, powerful muscles rippled and flexed beneath her hands. The burn scars were raised and rough, some still pink.

The more she touched him, the less she wanted to stop. All she could think at that moment was that she was the one playing with fire here. The pain and suffering he’d endured trying to save those kids, and she could only imagine the emotional aftermath.

Slowly, Brett began shaking his head. “Don’t look at me that way. They don’t hurt anymore.”

“It’s not just that, is it?” she asked.

His brows drew together. “What do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s not just the physical pain.” She cupped his cheek, his skin beneath the stubble warm to the touch. “Watching those teenagers die and being unable to save them…what it must have done to you, and it wasn’t even the first time you were forced to watch children die in a fire.”

As his chest expanded on a deep inhale, he closed his eyes and covered her hand with his.

Tears backed up behind Gemma’s eyes. “You shared one of the darkest moments of your life in the courtroom that day to help Gavin Aldrich in a way that no one else could.” Like Gavin, he’d gone through heart-wrenching experiences. He’d survived, not unscathed, to become a wonderful, sensitive man.

“Don’t.” He opened his eyes, again shaking his head. “Don’t make me into some kind of hero. I’m not. Trust me.”

“You are.” His words of denial only made her more convinced of it. “All I’m saying is that not everyone is capable of doing what you did. You bared your soul to help someone else. You have a rare strength of character, and it comes from in here.” She pressed a hand to his chest. His heart raced beneath her fingers. “I want you to kiss me again.”

“Gemma,” he whispered. “You’re injured, and I don’t want to hurt you.”