Let It Burn (A BBW Paranormal Erotic Romance) by Sierra Summers, VJ Summers

My dad wouldn’t have had to go after her.”  He closed his eyes, shutting out the liquid compassion he saw in hers.  “My mom would have been happy, whole.  Her body may have lived another ten years, but her spirit died that night, too.”  He squeezed his lids tight against the unthinkable sting of tears and remembered smoke.  “I let my entire family die that night, Joanna.  I didn’t want you to see that.  And I’m terrified I’ll let you down, too.”
    *
                  Jo felt her heart break a little more with each of Kevin’s words.  She bled inside for the boy who’d tried so hard to save his family, only to lose everything.  She wanted to weep for the young man faced with a mother’s unspoken resentment.  She couldn’t read minds, but she could feel as clear as crystal that his mother had blamed Kevin for his father’s and sister’s deaths, and that blame had only deepened Kevin’s guilt and shame.  Finally, her soul ached for the man standing before her, so alone, so convinced that he had to be alone, that no one he loved was safe in his care.
                  “Kevin.”  She reached up, cupping his face, tracing her thumbs over his strong cheekbones, savoring the light rap of his afternoon beard on her palms.  “If you responded to a fire like the one at your house, and there was another boy who couldn’t get to his sister or dad, would you blame him for their deaths?”  He shook his head trying to pull away from her, but she wouldn’t let him go.
                  “It’s not the same thing,” he rasped.
                  “It’s exactly the same thing,” she argued.  “It was a terrible tragedy.  But Kevin, you were a child.  You aren’t responsible for it.”
                  He finally opened his eyes.  They pierced her, wet and storm swept.  She could feel him struggling, wanting to believe her.  Aching for a surcease of the guilt and pain.  The very fact that he wanted to believe was a huge stride in the right direction. 
                  Going with impulse Jo stepped into him, pressing against his tense, vibrating body; letting her softness melt into his strained hardness.  She believed, she had to believe, that in time Kevin would forgive himself.  That he’d learn to trust himself.  She had to believe this because she was very much afraid she’d fallen in love with him, and she desperately needed him to be whole and happy.
                    “Oh, Kevin,” she breathed, cupping his face in her hands.  He blew out a rough breath and dropped his head, resting his forehead against hers.  She moved slowly, softly, pressing kisses to his cheeks, the tip of his nose, his closed eyelids.  With each gentle caress she felt his tension melt a little, until he angled his head just so and caught her mouth with his own.
    *
                  Ambrosia.  She tasted like honey and cinnamon and sweet, sweet woman, and Kevin didn’t think he’d ever get enough.  Somehow she’d seen to the dark, frozen core of his soul and it hadn’t disgusted her.  And in the light of her acceptance, it disgusted him a little less, too.
                  He let himself imagine for a moment a future with Joanna.  Days unnumbered, basking in the warmth of her smile.  Children with his eyes and her hair.  The family he’d never believed he deserved.
                  Maybe, just maybe, with this woman he could have it all.
                  She made a low, humming sound against his lips, and he took the kiss deeper, drowning in her taste, her scent.  He plundered her mouth and moaned when her wicked little tongue licked at his before drawing it in to suckle.  Each light tug of her lips on his tongue reverberated in his balls, maddening him.
                  Never freeing her lips, he bent his knees and wrapped his arm around her thighs, just under