him, her eyes like blue smoke, her lips half parted in what seemed provocative invitation.
Slo sure hated to disappoint those lips. “I don’t care if you are crazy. I have to kiss you – before you drive me crazy.”
“No!” She shoved at his shoulders, straining to push him back. “You have to get away from me – quick – before we burn to death!”
Amen.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” He made another try for her lips.
She twisted her head to the side. “It’s a fact, damn it. You’re about to go up in flames!”
About to?
“Roxy, I already am.”
“Slo, I’m serious . When I get excited, I start fires!”
He groaned. This was almost too good to be real. “Great. You can light mine, and I’ll light yours. We’ll torch each other.”
“No! You don’t understand. I mean I’m a real live genuine blowtorch.”
“You ain’t kiddin’.” This baby was hot .
“I’m not kidding! Get off me! Now!”
Only if he really, really had to. And it appeared he did.
Sigh.
Regretfully, Slo pulled back and eased Roxanne up to sit beside him. “Okay, I’m off. Now what exactly are we talking about here?”
She drew a deep shuddering breath. “Psychically induced spontaneous combustion. Excitement triggers it – arousal, anger – any hot emotion. That’s why my father locked me away. Not because I’m crazy, but because I’m pyrokinetic.”
Pyro what? He stared at her a tense moment, not sure what to say. The woman was a fire freak?
“You’re, um, trying to tell me you have an uncontrollable urge to start fires? Roxy honey, that” – he cleared his throat – “that is sort of a mental problem, isn’t it?”
“Oh, for godssake…” She gave him an exasperated look. “I didn’t say I’m a pyro maniac . I said pyro kinetic .”
Slo frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“Plenty. A pyromaniac deliberately sets fires for the thrill of it. And they have to do it the usual way – with matches, gasoline, stuff like that. Pyrokinesis is a psychic ability, like precognition or ESP. Like the way your grandmother predicts the weather.”
“That’s just her lumbago . There’s nothing psychic about it.” But don’t tell Ina Lorene that. She believed in things like ESP. Slo didn’t. He was a firm believer in logic, had to be to have gotten where he was. He’d been forced to admit on occasion that some paranormal phenomena might be possible, but none of it was logical, and all of it unnerved him. He had little use for that shit, and less use for the flaky-cake airheads who did – barring his flaky grandmother, of course.
And airheads who looked as luscious as Roxanne. He could think of a few uses for her. More than a few – a big juicy smorgasbord of uses from sweet and spicy appetizers to the meaty main course dripping with succulent sauce—
Roxanne suddenly stiffened. “I also have flashes of telepathy,” she warned, “so you’d better be careful what you think around me.”
Slo stiffened, too, but not in the good way. He was remembering a similar occurrence of the previous night when it had seemed almost as though Roxanne could see into his head. But she hadn’t then, and she wasn’t now. Impossible. She had read his expression, that was all, and merely thought she’d read his mind – just like she thought she could magically manifest fire. Her last name might be Sinclair, but she was a definite Jones.
“All right,” he said soothingly, “you’re a mind reader and the inspiration for Stephen King’s Firestarter . Is there anything else I should know?”
“You mean besides the fact that I don’t like being talked down to, don’t like being considered a lunatic, don’t appreciate being viewed as a sex object, and hate being treated like a helpless child? No, I suppose other than that, you know as much as your brain can hold.”
Crunch .
That was the sound of Slo’s teeth clenching.
“Roxy, if you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t act
Slo sure hated to disappoint those lips. “I don’t care if you are crazy. I have to kiss you – before you drive me crazy.”
“No!” She shoved at his shoulders, straining to push him back. “You have to get away from me – quick – before we burn to death!”
Amen.
“Is that a threat or a promise?” He made another try for her lips.
She twisted her head to the side. “It’s a fact, damn it. You’re about to go up in flames!”
About to?
“Roxy, I already am.”
“Slo, I’m serious . When I get excited, I start fires!”
He groaned. This was almost too good to be real. “Great. You can light mine, and I’ll light yours. We’ll torch each other.”
“No! You don’t understand. I mean I’m a real live genuine blowtorch.”
“You ain’t kiddin’.” This baby was hot .
“I’m not kidding! Get off me! Now!”
Only if he really, really had to. And it appeared he did.
Sigh.
Regretfully, Slo pulled back and eased Roxanne up to sit beside him. “Okay, I’m off. Now what exactly are we talking about here?”
She drew a deep shuddering breath. “Psychically induced spontaneous combustion. Excitement triggers it – arousal, anger – any hot emotion. That’s why my father locked me away. Not because I’m crazy, but because I’m pyrokinetic.”
Pyro what? He stared at her a tense moment, not sure what to say. The woman was a fire freak?
“You’re, um, trying to tell me you have an uncontrollable urge to start fires? Roxy honey, that” – he cleared his throat – “that is sort of a mental problem, isn’t it?”
“Oh, for godssake…” She gave him an exasperated look. “I didn’t say I’m a pyro maniac . I said pyro kinetic .”
Slo frowned. “What’s the difference?”
“Plenty. A pyromaniac deliberately sets fires for the thrill of it. And they have to do it the usual way – with matches, gasoline, stuff like that. Pyrokinesis is a psychic ability, like precognition or ESP. Like the way your grandmother predicts the weather.”
“That’s just her lumbago . There’s nothing psychic about it.” But don’t tell Ina Lorene that. She believed in things like ESP. Slo didn’t. He was a firm believer in logic, had to be to have gotten where he was. He’d been forced to admit on occasion that some paranormal phenomena might be possible, but none of it was logical, and all of it unnerved him. He had little use for that shit, and less use for the flaky-cake airheads who did – barring his flaky grandmother, of course.
And airheads who looked as luscious as Roxanne. He could think of a few uses for her. More than a few – a big juicy smorgasbord of uses from sweet and spicy appetizers to the meaty main course dripping with succulent sauce—
Roxanne suddenly stiffened. “I also have flashes of telepathy,” she warned, “so you’d better be careful what you think around me.”
Slo stiffened, too, but not in the good way. He was remembering a similar occurrence of the previous night when it had seemed almost as though Roxanne could see into his head. But she hadn’t then, and she wasn’t now. Impossible. She had read his expression, that was all, and merely thought she’d read his mind – just like she thought she could magically manifest fire. Her last name might be Sinclair, but she was a definite Jones.
“All right,” he said soothingly, “you’re a mind reader and the inspiration for Stephen King’s Firestarter . Is there anything else I should know?”
“You mean besides the fact that I don’t like being talked down to, don’t like being considered a lunatic, don’t appreciate being viewed as a sex object, and hate being treated like a helpless child? No, I suppose other than that, you know as much as your brain can hold.”
Crunch .
That was the sound of Slo’s teeth clenching.
“Roxy, if you don’t want to be treated like a child, don’t act
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