My stoic bravado is obliterated when his lips find mine. Reacting to Derry’s kiss is imminent. In fact, I can’t imagine ever abstaining from emotion again.

My body is opposing my head, the fluid heat igniting in my chest and engulfing my cheeks. His hands hold my wrists captive while I push forward, frustrated they’re blocking me from being closer to him.

His back is to the wall, and it isn’t him holding me there. I’m holding him, encouraging him, losing control of everything I’ve kept trapped inside. As if sensing my glimmer of reason, Derry turns us so my back is against that same wall.

Our mouths continue to work in tandem, his debilitating tongue sliding across my lower lip. I suck in a breath when sparks erupt from my chest, fireworks leaving goosebumps where they disperse. White heat roars through me, molten lava replacing my blood. It singes me where it touches, yet I’m unwilling to stop it, content to burn alive as trade for this exhilaration.

The whole time, he holds my hands tightly to his chest. That wedge is the only thing keeping us from being totally consumed by the blaze. Instead of cowering from my temperature shift, he welcomes the burn, working tirelessly to stoke its intensity.

While I fear my fire is growing to an uncontainable degree, he urges us on, accepting all I give him and beseeching more. There’s no silent pleading in his kiss. It’s dominating, demanding, and impossible to satiate. I couldn’t stop, even if I wanted to, which I don’t. I really, really don’t. I want to empty myself into him, refuel, and do it all over again.

I’ve never felt more powerful, yet I’ve never felt such a dire need to empower my entire being to someone else. I’m no longer holding my life in my hands. Nor am I controlling the fate of the oblivious crowd.

It’s Derry.

Everything’s Derry.

His ability to consume the raging wildfire is unexplainable, and even when I think we’ll both combust from the strength of our flame, I can’t stifle the crushing need to give. I want to give every last ounce of fire fuel to him.

He strategically pulls back, keeping me pinned to the wall. My chest heaves, brushing his hands with every forced exhale as I struggle to calm my breathing. His detachment causes a rush of cold water to replace the boiling blood in my veins. Desperate to maintain contact when he releases my throbbing wrists, I wrap his arms around my shoulders. His support is the only thing keeping me in a standing position. My knees are mere liquid. Everything is liquid. While no obstacles are between us now, he’s far away, too far, and slipping farther every passing second. I need him closer. Always closer.

His mouth skims my ear, his breath forcing my pulse to increase where the rhythm bottomed out. “Still think I’m just cute?”

He’s definitely not just cute. There’s nothing cute about the explosive and subsequent relinquishing of control we shared in one single, all-consuming kiss.

“Tepid,” I murmur, resting my cheek on his chest. He’s incredibly warm, and I’m incredibly cold for the first time in a long time.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

His mouth hovers over my earlobe for a moment before biting it gently. My body twitches, spurting like it wants to expel something else but has nothing to release. My reserve’s been effectively depleted.

He pulls away, tilting his head as he tries to read my expression. His desire dwindles based on whatever he finds while taking inventory. When I shiver, he grimaces.

He switches our position so I’m on the outside, a deliberate move to denote freedom to leave should I wish. Why would I wish that? Does he think I’m scared of him?

My cell phone goes off like a game controller on steroids. Did I not put the stupid thing on silent? Did I fry the circuits? Fourteen text messages are waiting from Declan and Tally.

Switch-hitting, Superego informs me.

I groan, having been so swept up in the moment I forgot all about the annoying little leash in my pocket.

Where R U?—Declan

UR so dead—Tally

Worried—Declan

Beyond dead—Tally

Plz reply—Declan

U suck—Tally

Not funny—Declan

Uh-oh, D is manic. Now UR N 4 it—Tally

Plz say U didn’t do something stupid—Declan

U wouldn’t B that stupid, would U?—Tally

I’m so sorry—Declan

If I missed it, & U didn’t die, UR so dead—Tally

Plz say UR ok—Declan

U better not B ok or I’ll kill U myself—Tally

The newest message is twenty minutes old. How long have I been sucking face with a Sumair? I open up the technological tether and quickly reply.

I’m cool. C U soon—Sheyla

I get a nearly immediate response.

Sooner than U think—Tally

I search Derry’s eyes for answers. For anything. I have no real idea what just happened, but if he’s the villain, the Sumair I’ve come looking for, wouldn’t I be dead?

“Your friend seems worried,” Derry whispers, looking over my shoulder.

I follow his gaze. “What are you doing here?”

“Yippee!” Tally claps excitedly. “I get the pleasure of abandoning my entourage so you can ask me stupid questions. Could I be any luckier?”

Her ego can’t be bothered with minor inconveniences like reputation maintenance. I need to distract her from going completely ballistic. I don’t care if she embarrasses me, but I don’t want to introduce Derry to any of her more volatile personalities. I have no disillusions by the time she’s finished reaming me out, I’ll regret surviving the night.

“Where’s Declan?”

Tally gestures to the stage, and I scan the crowd for Declan, surprised to locate him standing where I was positioned earlier. He isn’t swaying to the music. He’s inhumanly frozen with his head tilted up in an awkward position. The puppet master has handed over his strings to the punk princess, who’s singing on the stage right in front of him. Equally smitten, she ignores every person but him.

“Who’s your friend?” Tally forces her lips into a tight smile as she attempts to regain our attention. “I didn’t realize you had any of those.”

Can she tell what he is? Am I even sure what he is? I swallow down my nervous lump. “D-Derry.”

“What’s a Derry, and where did you meet him?” she persists, fighting to keep the proprietary smile on her lips.

“At the hospital.”

“Come on.” Tally tugs my forearm. “We have things to discuss, a crisis to avert, and monsters to evade.”

If Derry’s the monster I assume he is, he could end my torment and save the world I’m bound to destroy. That doesn’t make him monstrous, in my opinion. More like the hero. I’m the monster, but as I settle on that dark truth, a second hand grips my other arm. His.

I blink, suddenly trapped between two fates. I feel lighter, absolutely in control, and for once in my life, I’m harmless, however temporarily. Whether or not Derry’s directly responsible for my current state is a minor detail next to what I’ve just experienced. Desire.

What I do know, without a shadow of doubt, is I need to leave, and I need Tally and Declan to leave with me before they figure out what he is.