“Close your eyes.”
Chelsea stood and did as commanded, but couldn’t help the snicker as freezing wind made her hair flutter. “Can I trust you?”
From the darkness, Jackson Hawk’s breath rose gooseflesh as it snaked along her neck. “Oh, my little nun, you should know better by now.
As Chelsea raced to her class, one thought kept repeating: My hair is sticking up in the back
Chelsea pouted in her seat. “This is not nearly as fun as TV makes it seem.”
Jack laughed. “Poor thing. Give me your hands.” Not waiting at all, he grabbed her stiff hands and stripped off her gloves. Chelsea’s shivers had little to do with the cold as he huffed hot breath over her frozen fingers.
“Do you want me to go with you?”
She froze, stuck halfway between wanting company, and not wanting Jackson Hawk anywhere near the clergy who ran her college. She half-feared he’d burst into flame just walking into the chapel.
The bright sunlight streaming through her window contradicted her icy feet. Chelsea tugged on her blanket, but it stuck on something.
That something turned out to be a naked, muscle-y bit of man with dark hair and sharp cheek bones.
All the other writers are doing it, so I thought, maybe I should too! So, yes, I made a mailing list! I promise not to bombard you with stuff. I’m thinking twice a month. Once on publishing day, and again about two weeks later. That second one will be the sole home of my flash […]
Words That Burn Like Fire 