Moth to a Flame Read Free Page A

my hand with surprising strong grip. This girl was taking the tough-girl act to a whole new level.
    What is she so spooked about that has her ready to unleash Death by Mace to anyone who speaks to her?
    She surprised me when she grabbed my forearm and walked me to the other side of the car, helping me get in. Once she settled me into the front seat and then climbed in on her side, she muttered an apology before starting the car and driving us towards her house. I just nodded my acceptance. This chick had issues, but I couldn’t help but be intrigued by her.
    We drove the short distance to her house in complete silence. When I felt us driving over gravel a few minutes later, I realized that we must be pulling into her driveway. She stopped the car and got out. A moment later, she opened my door and reached for my hand to help me out. This time when she grabbed my hand, there was a tenderness to it, which sparked a buzz deep within me as if she’d shocked me. When she flinched, I knew she felt it too.
    “This way,” she instructed as she led me to some steps that went up to a porch.
    My vision was improving slightly and I could make out a small shape of what must be a cabin. The porch went the width of the small house and sheltered an ornate porch swing. She unlocked one, two, three locks before letting us inside.
    What the hell?
    Who the fuck has three locks on their door?
    I seriously hoped this chick didn’t tie me to the bed and break my ankles like some psycho from a Stephen King novel. Even though she was weirder than hell, I couldn’t help that she piqued my interest.
    “Come on. I’ll show you to the bathroom,” she spoke nervously.
    She again guided me until we were in a tiny bathroom. After the faucet turned on, I could hear her rummaging through a cabinet. She handed me a warm washcloth and said, “Try to pat at them some with this while I go look on the Internet for a remedy.”
    Once she left me in the bathroom, I tried not to cringe at the burning that was tearing across my face and eyes. A few moments later, a shriek from Lia in the other room caused me to jerk my head towards the door, ready to run to her aide. I heard stomping down the hall, which prompted me to fling open the door only to have her run right smack into me.
    For a moment, I was stunned at the way she felt in my arms. She smelled of a sweet perfume that had been made to perfectly complement her own scent, and I couldn’t help but inhale her. With my hands on her back, I had the urge to never let her go, but she let out a ragged breath and pulled away. It was hard to not tug her back to me.
    “I’m sorry,” she whispered before regaining her voice. “The Internet says that you need to wash the mace off. Otherwise it could spread and continue to burn.”
    I heard her turn on the shower, so I swiftly removed my shirt.
    When she turned around, she stuttered, “Um, you can, uh… Here’s a towel. I’ll be just outside the bathroom door if you need me.” With that, she turned and practically ran out of the bathroom.
    I undressed and climbed into the warm shower. After a few minutes of rinsing off, I finally was able to see a bit better even though the burning still hurt like hell.
    As I stepped out of the shower, a towel around my waist, I noticed a whole lot of shoeboxes stacked in neat rows along the wall.
    What in the hell?
    And where the fuck are my clothes?
    About that moment, a dark-headed beauty peeked her head through the cracked-open bathroom door. Seeing her face for the first time was heart stopping. The woman was beautiful. Her eyes glowed green with mystery. She had a cute, pert nose that slightly turned upwards. And her lips were delicious-looking—especially when she parted them as she looked at me.
    I noticed her green eyes dart to my towel then to my wet chest before she seemingly unwillingly dragged them up to my eyes. I just watched her blatant ogling with one eyebrow cocked. Her sweet, little tongue licked at her