April 8, 2014
Feelin' the Same Way—Norah Jones (2:57)
Burn Notice
Michael
Michael locked the door and leaned back against it with a heavy sigh. He wondered if Fi knew he'd been lying.
He'd told her that violence wasn't foreplay for him. He hadn't been lying…not exactly. Normally it wasn't. But with Fi? Everything with Fi was foreplay. Every single thing she did or said got him hot.
And he could never let her know. He wouldn't chance breaking either of their hearts again. He would be leaving Miami as soon as he could manage it. He'd been a spy for almost half of his life. It was who he was. It was what he was. Love, affection and desire didn't have a place in his life.
Michael knew that he was incapable of giving Fiona what she needed. It was easier to just relegate her to a lost love. It was better for her. And if his heart felt like shards in his chest? Well that was just the price he had to pay.
It didn't matter how much he longed to sink into her warm, inviting body. It didn't matter that his lips tingled with the need to taste her again. It didn't matter that his arms felt empty. It didn't matter that his ears were nearly perked to catch her every moan and gasp. None of it mattered against the need to keep her safe from him and the crap that was falling on him from this damn burn notice.
Michael let his weight settle against the cool metal of the door and rub at his eyes. He had to stay strong. A wry smile crossed his lips. It was a good thing he didn't mind cold water. He could see a lot of cold showers in his future.
And if that quiet, nagging voice in the back of his head was reminding him that Fiona was the most stubborn woman on the planet? Well he had a lot of experience ignoring that voice.