Matt tapped a black feather on my nose, a wicked glint lighting his eyes. “The fire thing.” “What about it?” I usually kept a tight rein on my emotions around others, especially men, and didn’t let my more, shall we say, primitive attributes come out to play. But Matt had this effect on me, something that made me feel safe enough to let it all hang out, so to speak. Who was he to freak out over a bit of demonic power, anyway? He traced the side of my face with the feather, sending a ripple of pleasure through me. “It’s a good thing, right?” “Shouldn’t you be sleeping now? Avoiding any sort of cuddling or talk of our feelings?” I said. When my attentions were distracted as much as they’d been the last hour, I lost my ability to control hellfire. And my hair caught fire. Yeah, maybe I should have kept myself reined in. Stupid nephilim men and their You Show Me Yours, and I’ll Freak Out When Your Hair Catches Fire and Completely Forget to Show You Mine crap. He moved himself so that he rested on his forearms and gazed down at me.
