Read Playing with Fire (Book 1 of the FIRE Trilogy) Page 14
Everything you desire lies at the other end of fear.
A quote from the book echoed in her inner ear this morning.
Oh yes, she desired power. She desired working with the fire inside her. And she was afraid. More than ever.
Where was Joshua when she needed him?
The thought stopped her short.
Did she need him? What did he actually know about her? About fire? About power? He with his ice and cold calm and superiority would only stand in her way of letting it all out. They were opposites, and while they may indeed attract each other, she wasn’t so certain anymore that there could be anything to learn from him.
Several days had passed with not a sight or sound of Joshua. She had gone about her life the same as before—on the outside. Inside, she was full of questions and ideas and wishes. Inside, she was a different person. And small changes had made her life more livable.
Whenever Felicia was at home, she kept music playing in the background. The meals she prepared were now for both her and Cindy. Her room was full of candles at night, and she never bothered to snuff them out when she went to sleep. She had bought a vivid wall-hanging of a red Chinese dragon and hung up dragon pictures printed out from the internet. Sometimes, she picked up the book and let her eyes wander over a page or two, but somehow, it had lost its attraction. X-Men, on the other hand, had caught her favor. She streamed the other movies of the series on her computer, replaying some scenes, wishing with all her might that she could be part of such a group, a fiery superwoman of sorts… accompanied by a man who could turn you into ice with the blink of an eye. An invincible team.
Early every morning, she donned her new running shoes and went for a jog for half an hour, sometimes running full tilt rather than jogging because it felt blissful after the initial reluctant few minutes.
Late every evening, she walked into the forest and sat on a particular rock by the riverside. Waiting. For him. For anything to happen.
Added to the fire burning inside her had been another fire. One of longing and desire. One that made her dream of a cool tongue traveling down her neck, chest and stomach like a cube of ice sliding further with each rise and fall of breath. Of cold hands with slender fingers pressing where the heat stretched against her skin and wanted out. Of icy, fresh, mint-smelling breath and a hard body against hers.