I Always Like To Play With Fire Novels & Stories

What you look like when you come. _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> Jamie set his phone aside and rolled over to look at me, a wicked smile on his face. "Then don't pretend. Let me see it in your eyes. Let me feel the tension. It'll make it hotter." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "You're playing with fire." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3"> "I like fire. It keeps things interesting." _*]:min-w-0 gap-3">

And in this story, I’m the one who plays with fire. And he is the fire.

"About playing with fire." "Maybe I want to burn." "Good," he whispered. "Because you just lit the match."

This is the love that consumed me and the source of my knowledge to share with all of you. I want to be a partner who will be chilled out. With her, a very fun-loving person. I will say inappropriate things. I will joke. I will tease her. I will roast her friends. So I don’t want an innocent, tender little soul that will be too sensitive to my wild, fun side. My fire must be met with fire. If I am pulling your leg, don’t just make a face and lock your room. No. Go ahead and roast me with all your fury. Remind me that there are tigresses and tigers in this jungle. No one dominates.

"What are you capable of doing?" "Oh, you're playing with fire, Ashley. " He chuckles and I grip his chin in my hand, stalking my right thumb across the unblemished skin before meeting his eyes, and saying, "It's like I told you: Getting burnt by you is one of my favourite things. "

Something that could be big or small… something that comes gently or with force… something people fear and can’t escape. What could it be? I tried to think like him, like my father. He loved games that made him feel smarter than everyone else. The answer tickled the back of my mind. By some I get hit… People get hit by a ball, a car… no. I'll dance to the music, though I can't hear. That made me think of leaves in the wind, or… flames. Fire dances. But fire isn’t as slow as a snail. Of names I have many, of names I have one.

I started “I have powers, and I can light fires. I haven’t learned how to control it yet.” For a while Ben just started blankly at me. I am not sure if he believed me or thought I was a nut case. “Really?” He said finally. He was hard to read. “Yes, it’s why I am out here.” I continued “I am dangerous, and I have to stay away from others.” “You don’t look very dangerous to me” he said. “Well, that fire was caused by me and that was dangerous” I said, “do you believe me?”

“You’re playing with fire.” “Maybe I don’t mind getting burned.” The words slipped out before I could stop them. Half-truth. Half-seduction. His grin widened. “Or maybe… I’m not Wiktor. I don’t break toys just to hear them snap.” I stared at him. Like a deer caught in headlights.

he shook his head, half-laughing now, “…God help me, I like it.” I arched a brow with a smile and asked.“You like it?” “I like that you can walk into a room like that and make them all think you’re the one with the upper hand.” He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “But it makes me want to put a bullet in anyone who so much as looks at you twice.” I smirked, leaned in and whimpered, “Possessive much?” “Always.” he shot.Eyes softened for a fraction of a second, then sharpened again. “ But You’re playing with fire,mama.”

My mind replayed the night in pieces — his calm voice, his cryptic words, his warning. People who play with fire rarely notice when they start to burn. And for the first time, I wondered — Was I the fire… or just the next thing he planned to set alight?