Fighting the Fire: A Warrior Fight Club Novel

by Kaye, Laura

  “You like that? Me holding you down?” In his arousal, the intensity in his expression almost read as harsh. And it was freaking hot.

  “Yes,” she said, meeting the scorching heat of his gaze. And damn she’d been right to want to experience him on top of her. Because those mountainous shoulders were a thing of beauty, his face was a mask of fierce masculine desire, and his weight nearly overwhelmed her in all the best ways.

  His strokes drove home faster, harder, and he rolled his hips to grind his pubic bone against her clit. “Feels so fuckin’ good,” he said, voice gravelly and low.

  She tested her hands against her grip, but he had her well secured. Pleasure zinged through her lower belly.

  He arched a brow. “You okay?”

  “More than. Was just testing.”

  “Christ, Dani. When I’ve got all my strength back, we’re exploring whatever the hell you mean by that. You hear me?”

  Her libido loved the hell out of that promise, so she nodded. Even though her brain posed the inconvenient question about whether there’d be another time, when she’d been so determined that there wouldn’t be a this time. God, she really didn’t want to think. “Harder,” she pleaded.

  Sean gave her what she asked for. His hips pistoned into her on a series of hard snaps that hit her just right. The sounds of skin meeting skin, her moans, and his deep, throaty groans surrounded them.

  And then he adjusted his position—bracing his upper body above her using the hand holding her wrists, and putting one foot down on the ground. His thrusts came even harder now, faster too, until she was gasping and moaning and right on the verge of coming.

  “Aw, fuck, you’re tight. You gonna give it to me?”

  “Yes,” she moaned. “So close.”

  His hips swiveled when he bottomed out, and it felt so good she had to close her eyes. “Want you to come all over my cock, D.”

  The dirty talk in that deep, almost-growl was the end of her.

  Her body detonated in a bone-meltingly good orgasm that had her trembling and arching. And crying out Sean’s name.

  He didn’t let up on her one bit, fucking her in a way that drew her release out longer and longer until she was nearly dizzy. And then he dropped down on top of her. Giving her all his weight, he hunched his body around her and hammered himself inside her hard and fast and deep. He was all she felt and saw and smelled. Suddenly, his voice filled her ears as he groaned his release, his whole body shuddering atop hers even as his hips jerked.

  “Fuck, Daniela,” he rasped as his movements slowed. He brought his face to hers, his eyes searching hers even as he kissed her. And it was shockingly intimate. Possibly the most intimate moment she’d shared with another person in six years. For him to be inside her, both of them raw and spent from the pleasure they’d shared, eye to eye, while he brushed her lips with kisses again and again.

  He saw her. He was with her here. She was the farthest away from being alone as she’d been in years.

  It was amazing and exciting. It was absolutely terrifying.

  “You good?” he asked.

  “Yeah. You?”

  His grin was sexy and sincere. “I’m fuckin’ terrific.”

  She chuckled, trying to ignore the whirl of emotion spinning in her head and tightening in her chest.

  Gently, he released her leg and wrists. “Shit, I hope I didn’t mark you,” he said, staring at her hands.

  She brought one close enough to see the dark red rings surrounding her wrist. “I wouldn’t complain if you did.”

  One sexy eyebrow shot way up. “Don’t blame me if I remember that for the next time.”

  The next time.

  He reached between them and withdrew from her, one hand fisting around the condom. “Lemme get rid of this.” Sean pushed off the couch and crossed to the bathroom. It was the first time she’d seen his body fully naked, and he was every bit as impressive as she thought he’d be. The broad shoulders. The way his ink-covered back muscles flexed. The taut roundness of his ass.

  And oh, man, that ass. Dead. She was dead.

  She heard the sink run, and then he was returning to her, comfortable with his nudity and feeling quite fine if that newly returned swagger meant anything. So she enjoyed the opportunity to ogle him. Because he was really freaking fine. “Wow.”

  “I know. It looks like shit, doesn’t it?” His hand went to his chest. “Doesn’t hurt as much now though.”

  How could he think that she’d meant her exclamation as anything but appreciative? And it wasn’t the first time he’d been so self-deprecating. “Sean Riddick.”

  Her stern tone had him looking at her, his expression full of confusion. “What?”

  “Sit.” She pointed at the couch.

  “Ooh, I like this game already.” He hurried to sit.

  She straddled him, one eyebrow arched. Those big hands cupped her ass, and they felt so good on her that she had to swallow hard. “This isn’t a game, asshole.”

  His eyes went wide. “Wait, how did we go from orgasm to asshole in under two minutes?”

  His way with words nearly made her smile. Gently, she laid one hand against his chest. “This isn’t ugly to me. It’s an injury. One that means you survived when that fucking truck hit you and scared the shit out of me. I was expressing admiration for your body, not criticizing your appearance. I would never do that, even if you hadn’t just been inside me two minutes ago.”

  “Oh.”

  “Uh huh.”

  His gaze dropped somewhere between them, fanning his long dark lashes against his cheek. “You were scared for me?”

  Dani huffed. And then she grasped his face in both of her hands. She wasn’t sure what was happening between them. Or what they were to one another. But she knew this. “I’m not better than you. I hated that you said that, and I hated that I made you feel that way. And of-fucking-course I was scared for you. You’re my friend, and you’re a good man. Someone who risks himself to help other people. I know I give you a hard time sometimes—”

  “Sometimes?” He smirked at her, though he didn’t quite pull it off, and it was obvious to her that he was trying to inject humor to deflect from the seriousness of what she was saying. Jesus, he was freaking Deadpool.

  But just then, she wasn’t having it. “I’m being serious.”

  “I know. You’re not the one that made me feel that way, D. Okay? It wasn’t you.” There was a vulnerability in those dark eyes that nearly stole her breath and emphasized the gravity of the admission he’d just made. Someone had told him or taught him that he was less than, and it was a lesson that seemed to have stuck. Something in the center of Dani’s chest squeezed.

  Sean blinked and glanced away, and suddenly he looked just like she’d felt a few moments before—too seen.

  So she changed the subject. “Before the amazing sex, you said you wanted to ask me a favor.”

  His smile was sheepish. “Can we focus on the ‘amazing’ part of your comment first?”

  Dani rolled her eyes. “Ask me.”

  He heaved a breath. “My eye doc follow-up is tomorrow and I wondered if I could twist your arm into going with me.” She inhaled to answer, but he rushed on. “It’s just that you’ll be able to decipher the doctor-speak and you’ll think of questions to ask that I might forget.”

  All of that was totally understandable. And it felt nice to be needed, wanted. “You don’t have to twist my arm. What time?”

  “It’s at eleven. The office is on Capitol Hill. But I know it’s really last minute….”

  Shaking her head, Dani thought about her schedule. She was on seven to three, so she’d have to get someone to cover for her, or maybe if she shot off some texts now, she could just switch shifts. “No, it’s fine. I should be able to do that.” Thinking she’d grab her phone, she moved to get off his lap.

  He hauled her back to him and leaned his face in close. “Thank you for being here for me.” Sean kissed her once, twice.

 
Yeah, good-guy Sean Riddick was a big freaking problem.

  Chapter Ten

  “Sean Riddick?”

  The nurse calling his name dropped a rock into Sean’s gut. Today was the day he’d learn if his vision was improving, whether he wanted to know or not.

  Dani gave him a nod as she followed him back into his exam room. Hair in a long ponytail, she was wearing navy scrubs with a pair of gray sneakers that revealed she’d come straight from the hospital. More than that, he’d learned that she’d taken off work to be here with him. He was floored by that and felt bad to boot, even though she’d insisted it was no problem.

  They got settled into his exam room—Sean in the padded chair with the arms of optical equipment sitting beside it—and then it was back to waiting again.

  He was going to come right out of his skin if the doctor—

  Two quick knocks landed on the door, and then it opened and an older man in a white coat walked in. “Mr. Riddick, I’m Dr. Herschel.”

  “Hi, Doc,” Sean said as the man washed his hands.

  “And who did you bring with you today?” the man asked.

  “My friend, Daniela. She’s an ER nurse at University,” he said, really fuckin’ glad to call her friend. Because once again, she was going above and beyond for him today.

  “Aha,” the doc said. “Daniela, welcome. Don’t hesitate to chime in if you have any questions.” She nodded.

  They reviewed his history and the doc asked him whether he’d been having any trouble with pain, dizziness, headaches, or nausea, all of which were negatives with the exception of those first few days. And then it was moment-of-truth time.

  “Let’s take off this shield and see how you’re healing.”

  Sean’s stomach tossed as the man carefully pealed the tape away from his forehead and cheekbone, leaving a pad of gauze underneath.

  “I’m going to dim the lights now.” Dr. Herschel pressed a button on the panel of controls and then removed the gauze. “Tell me how things look to you before I do my examination.”

  Blowing out a breath, Sean opened his injured eye. His heart was a freight train in his chest as he waited for his brain to register the world around him. “It’s clearer.” He looked at Dani, whose expression was so hopeful for him. He wasn’t sure how he lucked into having her on his side these days, but he really fuckin’ appreciated it. “It’s clearer than it was last week.” He forced himself to focus. On Dani’s pretty face. The clock. The eye chart being projected on the far wall. He couldn’t read all the lines like he normally could, except for those teeny tiny ones at the bottom that prolly no fuckers could. “I’m not sure it’s back to normal though.”

  “Let me take a closer look.” For the next ten minutes, the doctor conducted his examination.

  The first time Doc shined a light directly into Sean’s eye, he cringed. “Aah, stings.”

  “Photosensitivity is not surprising and should not be a lasting problem once you’re no longer wearing the eye covering.”

  That was some good news, at least. Since, you know, fires were fuckin’ bright. He breathed a sigh of relief. “So, what’s it looking like, Doc?”

  “Just one moment.” The man pushed the equipment away, typed at the keyboard for what seemed like forfuckin’ever, and then turned back to Sean. “The affected eye is at 20/70 right now, whereas your other eye is 20/20. It’s only been six days since the injury, and there’s some corneal inflammation that’s likely contributing to the differential—and probably accounts for your photosensitivity, too. The cornea helps focus the light that comes into the eye and is responsible for a large part of the eye’s focusing power. So my best guess is that we’ll continue to see improvement in the vision as the inflammation heals, and I recommend that we continue to shield the eye to avoid strain and let that cornea rest and heal.”

  Sean swallowed hard. After Dani left last night, he’d made his way upstairs to his bed for the first time all week, but then he’d laid there awake for a long time. His head full of churn and burn over a million and one things. First, what being with Dani again meant, if anything. Second, what he wanted it to mean. And, hell, he didn’t know since he’d never expected to happen it again in the first place. Plus there were some mentions of a next time floating around out there that he was totally game for, but that led him back to topic number one all over again. Third, he replayed that moment afterward when she’d called him on his BS, along with the unusual admission he’d made to her—one that surprised even himself. His shitty childhood wasn’t something he often discussed, and yet he’d referenced it twice with Dani.

  And, of course, his brain hadn’t been able to stop worrying about this appointment. Which was why, at about two o’clock in the morning, he found himself for probably the dozenth fucking time re-reading the NFPA’s standards for firefighters’ professional qualifications, which DCFD followed.

  There were several things that concerned him. Any residuals of contusions or lacerations which impaired the visual function required for satisfactory performance of fire duty were disqualifying. And freaking corneal inflammation likely fell under that. And the standards for visual acuity were fucking confusing, but seemed to require uncorrected vision better than 20/40 in one eye and 20/100 in the other. Unless he’d read it wrong. Which, who the fuck knew.

  He blinked at the man sitting in front of him. That guy would know. “Doc, maybe you can explain something to me.” He pulled out his cell and went to his photos. Because he’d screenshot the shit out of the quals. “I’m a firefighter. And I need to be able to meet certain visual standards. What does this mean?” He held out his phone.

  The doctor adjusted his glasses as he looked at the screen. “It means you meet the standards for visual acuity, Mr. Riddick.” Sean could’ve fallen off the chair in relief. He glanced at Dani, who was smiling at him like he’d won the lottery. Dr. Herschel continued, “Your vision without correction is stronger than these minimum requirements. And if the injured eye doesn’t improve to 20/20, we can always consider soft contact lenses for the one eye, depending on your comfort. Either way, this is not a concern.”

  “So am I out of the woods, then? After this finishes healing?”

  “As long as there’s no lasting damage to the cornea that impairs your function, the prognosis is hopeful.”

  Fuck. Why did that feel less hopeful than he’d, well, hoped for. “Uh, okay.”

  “Dr. Herschel,” Dani said, “Is there any reason to be concerned about infection? Would there be any value in a preventative course of antibacterial drops?”

  “I’m not seeing any signs of infection, and the most acute time for such a concern would’ve been in the immediate aftermath of the accident. As you know, noninfectious keratitis usually heals on its own, and nothing I’m seeing leads me to believe Mr. Riddick suffers from it.”

  Dani nodded. “It’s good news, Sean.”

  He gave her a hard look. “Really?

  She smiled, and there was nothing but sincerity on her face. “You’re getting better.”

  He nodded but couldn’t quite wipe the frown off his face, because what if better wasn’t good enough? What would he even be without firefighting?

  Outside on the street, the day was breezy and hot, the sun bright in the late June sky. From a block away, the dome of the Capitol building towered over this part of the city, gleaming white in the sunshine.

  “Hey,” Dani said, a hand on his arm.

  He peered down at her, suddenly aware he was being a sullen asshole. “Sorry.”

  She shook her head. “Anyone would be worried in your shoes. But what I heard in there was positive. I promise.”

  “Okay.” God, he wanted to kiss her, but he wasn’t sure where they stood. She’d left his house around ten last night, and they’d kissed at her car when he’d walked her outside. But he wasn’t any fuckin’ good at reading this kind of thing. “Can I buy you lunch as a thank you?”

  She glanced at her cell and twisted her lips. “Sor
ry. I have to be back by one. I’ll see you at dinner tomorrow night, though?”

  “Yeah, o’course. And no apologies. Can I call you an Uber at least? You know, since you came over here for me and all.”

  The smile she gave him was a little amused and a lot sexy and did absolutely nothing good for his desire to kiss her. Right here on the street. Where everyone would know she was his. And he was hers. But since he didn’t think any of that was actually true—hot sex aside—he stood right where he was.

  “I’m just gonna take the Metro. It’s easy.”

  He nodded. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow then. Have a good day.”

  “Thanks.” She glanced up at him for a long moment. Belatedly, it occurred to him that she seemed to be hesitating and uncertain, too. But before he figured out whether that meant anything, she took a step backwards. Another. And then she was walking away.

  Fuck. Why did he feel like he’d just messed something up?

  He sighed. And tried to decide what the hell to do with himself.

  “Hey, Riddick?”

  His gaze cut down the sidewalk to where Dani was waiting to cross the intersection. “I bet it feels huge in this hand.” She raised a hand and waved.

  He barked out a laugh. Fuckin’ quoting ‘Deadpool’ to him. As if Daniela England hadn’t already been hot before. She seemed to get more appealing with every new thing he learned, making him wonder why and how it was that they’d known each other all these years and never really managed to go beyond their respective sarcastic surfaces to learn anything much at all.

  Sean didn’t know the answer to that, so he waved back, something uncomfortable swelling in his chest. Dani disappeared amid the throngs of tourists and government workers on their lunch breaks.

  An idea coming to mind, Sean called himself an Uber. Maybe spending some time at the station would make him feel more grounded.

  Twenty minutes later, Sean found himself in Columbia Heights standing in front of a long, two-story tan building with three bright red bay doors and matching trim on the windows—the home of Company 11.