Page 69 of Branded Betrayal

Bryant lets out a yelp and comes charging down the steps.

“Hey, boy,” I say, kneeling down in front of him. “I missed you so much. Did you miss me too?”

He laps at my face like a kid with an ice pop on a summer day. I laugh and lose my balance, falling backward against the wall.

“Bryant,” Blaze says. “Down.”

Bryant turns and growls at him. I giggle harder, breathless.

Blaze walks over to me and holds out a hand. I stare at it, then at him, feeling my limbs morph into goo under the golden flames of his whiskey gaze. I clasp it and he pulls me off the floor. I put my hands on his arms to steady myself when my eyes latch onto the gaping wound near his right shoulder. I must’ve been so focused on his perfectly chiseled pecs that I missed it.

“Jesus, Blaze. What happened?” I ask, peering down at it. “Is that . . . ?” My eyebrows fly up. “It looks like a bullet wound.”

“It’s fine,” he says, pulling away. “I was just cleaning it when I heard the door.”

“Do you need to go to a doctor?”

“No. It’s fine.”

“Stop saying fine because it clearly is not fine. Somebody shot you. And you could have . . .” I let the word expire on my lips because I can’t bring myself to say it.

“Would you have cared?” he asks. For a split second, the walls crumble, and embers of vulnerability crackle in the depths of his gaze.

My breaths are short and sharp, slicing into my lungs. His fingertips sizzle my skin. I swallow hard, his lips hovering just above mine.

“You know I would have. And that’s the problem,” I rasp. He pulls me close, so close I need to tilt my head back to look up at him. His breath flutters against my cheeks, making my toes curl in my boots.

“Savannah . . .” he whispers.

“I know I should stay away from you,” I say, my voice shaking. “But I can’t either.”

I’m done pretending I can resist this. Resist him.

“I tried to stay away.” He closes the space between us. “Nearly got killed in the process.”

A hiss of air slips through my lips as his hands tangle in my hair and gently tug it. He wraps his arms around me, his jaw tensing as he tightens his grip.

“Blaze,” I breathe against his mouth. “Your shoulder—”

“I don’t care.” His voice is rough and desperate. “I don’t care about anything except being with you right now.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

Blaze

I don’t deserve her. But fuck, I can’t stop myself from taking her.

The electricity flows between us like we’ve been lassoed by a live wire. I study every detail of her face . . . thick lashes framing those clear blue pools, smooth slope of her nose, full pink lips, tiny mole just below her left eye. The face branded into my mind forever, guarded eyes brimming with anticipation.

I breathe her in.

Six years ago, kissing Savannah felt like everything good and pure in the world was mine to hold and cherish.

Now it feels like stealing. And taking something I have no right to touch.

But I’m doing it anyway.

Her scent is intoxicating, sweet jasmine and citrus. A complex mix of innocence and seduction that teases and taunts. When I look at her, I still see that sweet, bright-eyed young girl with an open, trusting heart, and a pang assaults my chest.