by Cole, Aria
“Shit.” He bent over for a closer look. “Let’s get you safe.”
He pulled me against him in one arm, sliding Jinx into my hands before swooping his other under me and carrying me out of my bedroom. My heart thundered in erratic beats as I felt every inch of him pressed to me, his hands cupping my body, cradling me tight in his rugged arms. My insides churned like butter, my palms prickling with newfound desire. It was not the appropriate moment to feel any of those things, but there was something about the way he handled me, something about the way his eyes had held mine from across the room that caused sensation to flutter through every nerve of my body. He left a lasting impression, like a tattoo on my flaming skin.
His eyes caught mine then as we walked through my kitchen. “Doin’ okay, sweetheart?”
I felt a blush crawl up my chest and heat my neck.
“I—” I paused, struggling to form words when he was looking at me like that—like he could see straight into my soul. “I’m just shocked there’s a real fire.”
The excuse was lame even as it fell on my ears, but in all fairness, I did not expect to find myself in the arms of a fireman today either.
“’Course there’s a real fire. Why do you think I’m saving you?” He glanced down to the cat in my arms. “And your kitty.”
Heat flamed between my thighs. Did he have this power over all the women he carried out of burning buildings? I frowned, the idea that he’d made anyone other than me feel this way not sitting well in my stomach.
We burst into the hall where we joined more firefighters rushing into the building, long hoses clutched in powerful hands.
They shouted orders, made hand gestures, then shot up the stairs to the third floor.
“Jesus.” My heart cracked open as I prayed everyone else was okay.
As if reading my mind, he spoke. “You’re the last one, sweetheart. Guys said they pounded on your door once already, assumed no one was home.”
I withered at his words. “But, Jinx…”
“Right. The cat.” He took the stairs two at a time, cradling me in his firm embrace. An odd sense of relief washed over me for the first time in my life. I was so strong and resilient on my own, but giving up the reins and being taken care of felt surprisingly good, even if it was by a stranger for exactly two point five minutes while he whisked me away from a fire.
“You’re lucky I saved your cute little ass.” He pushed through the creaky front doors of the apartment complex, the night air crisp on my bare skin. A shiver pulsed through me, one he must have felt. “We need to get you covered up. Have that gash looked at. You may need stitches.”
I groaned, shuttering my eyes closed, thinking that was exactly the kind of luck I had.
Rescued by a hot firefighter, check. Scarred by an angry cat while trying to save the little bastard’s life? Check.
And then it dawned on me that I’d have no bed to sleep in tonight.
No money to rent a hotel room.
No family or friends to crash with. Maybe I could call one of the girls at the coffee shop where I worked, sleep on someone’s couch for a few days… And then what?
I groaned again, louder.
“You don’t sound like a girl whose life was just saved from a blazing inferno.”
I frowned. Was sarcasm a trait among firefighters? I glanced up at him, too weak and suddenly too exhausted for anything but honesty. “I don’t have anywhere to stay tonight.”
Or ever.
His eyes narrowed as we reached the nearest ambulance. He shifted me out of his arms, sitting me on the edge. He took the cat from my hands while a paramedic wrapped me in a blanket. His eyes tore up and down my body, as if searching for more wounds that might need tending. I didn’t know if it was the heat of his gaze on my skin, or the black smoke clogging the parking lot, but something about the way he tended to me made something sweet and comforting unfurl deep inside me.
I’d never been tended to in my life, but all of a sudden, the idea of being without his attention felt like more than I was willing to bear.
“Check her leg. She’s got a deep cut.” His voice was authoritative and throaty, sending new waves of arousal spinning through me. He stood at my side, watching with a close eye as the paramedic inspected the gash, cleaned it with antiseptic, and then bandaged it tightly. I’d never felt more loved.
I was so consumed with the feelings waging a cage fight behind my ribs that I hardly felt her fingers on me.
A tall, broad, sinfully sexy firefighter dominated my thoughts.
The one holding my kitty.
TWO
Blaise
She didn’t have a place to go.
Shit.
I’d seen a lot in my twenty years fighting fires but never a situation like this. Everyone had family that came rushing to their side. Usually, there were too many damn people gathered on the lawn and mingling at the street, watching and praying and getting in the way.
Of everyone in that crowd, no one had run up and screamed to find their friend, their daughter, their anything.
No one would have missed this girl had she disappeared tonight.
I’d seen it happen far too often, a life snuffed out.
I pushed a hand through my hair, cradling the cat in my arm as my heart thundered with one word.
Help. Help. Help.
Her.
I couldn’t just leave her, couldn't just walk away tonight knowing she had nowhere to sleep and probably not a dime to spare on a hotel room for one night, much less very many. And I had more than enough rooms at my place.
There was no way in hell this was the professional thing, but I was a saver. When I saw something broken and needing tending, I liked to take care of it. That’s what had driven me to put on the turnout gear to begin with, and hell if I would stop now. Save this girl’s life and then send her on her merry, destitute way.
“You’re all set, dear. Don’t hesitate to go to the emergency room if you feel any signs of smoke inhalation. Wheezing, coughing, shortness of breath, that sort of thing. But I think you'll be fine, you were on the second floor, right?”
“Yes.” She nodded, head hanging low.
“Fire started on the third from the looks of it.” The paramedic’s eyes swung to the third-floor window that still billowed dark smoke.
“You got someone to stay with?” The woman turned back to my girl.
My girl.
What the hell was I thinking?
I didn’t give a fuck, that’s what I was thinking.
She needed to be someone’s girl, and I was happy to volunteer.
Her mouth popped open to reply before I interjected, “I’ve got her.”
My girl’s eyes turned up, riveted on mine. I snuck her cat back into her arms then pulled her to her feet, one protective arm at her back.
“You sure? I can call a few shelters, see if they have a bed?” the paramedic offered, as horrifying as it sounded. No fucking way would I have my girl sleeping in a room with a dozen strangers.
“No thanks. I’ve got it.” I pulled my girl away, cuddling her close under my arm. “You doin’ okay?”
She nodded, and I could see the rapid pulse of her heartbeat thrumming wildly at her throat. It took everything in me to resist the urge to lick it with my tongue.
“Good.” I glanced at my crew, floating in and out of the building, hose strung through the front door and up the stairs. This fire was under control. There was no more need for me here.
Being chief gave you some kind of pull, and for the first time in the history of my career, I was going to use it.
For her.
“Taylor!” I called over my deputy chief. “I’m going to get her a warm bed, change of clothes. You take the lead from here. I’ll take the work truck back to my place, bring it back in the morning.”
“’Kay, boss.” Taylor nodded then turned, heading back to the water pump control on the side of the truck.
“Let’s get you home.” I curled
her under my shoulder, tossing my helmet in the back of the firehouse pickup and opening the passenger door. I pressed a hand at her waist, eyes focused on her and only her.
“Home?” She peered up at me as she slid into the seat.
“My place. Only place I can think of where I’ll know you’re safe and taken care of.”
“Your place?” Her cat growled with irritation, and she shifted him in the crook of her elbow. “I don’t even know your name!”
“Name’s Blaise Michaels, Chief of the Raven County Fire Department.”
“Chief?” Her lips parted sweetly. Damn, I wanted to cover them with my lips. I sure as hell hoped she was feeling this thing beating between us too. It sure felt like she did the way her pretty eyes widened every time I so much as smiled at her.
“Chief, sweetheart. But I prefer Blaise.” I rested a thumb on her chin.
She paused, eyes riveted on mine and making my dick pound with waves of need. “I’m Brianna. Brianna Foster.”
“Pleasure to save your life tonight, Brianna Foster.” I couldn’t help the grin tipping my lips. She was all sugary sweet and soft, desperate for my hands on her skin. I wanted to make her dirty, mold her to my body, to my life. I wanted to make her mine.
“Thank you—” her eyes flashed up to mine “—Chief Michaels.”
A chuckle burst from my throat. “You say everything with that twinkle in your eye?”
“So what if I do?” There it was again. That twinkle. The twinkle that was knocking me off my goddamn boots.
“Then I’m in for a helluva ride with you, Brianna.”
And she was one ride I couldn’t wait to take.
As soon as we were home, I tucked her into the spare bedroom. I wanted to steer her right into my king-sized bed, but I didn’t want to push her a step too far…not yet anyway. So I settled on the guest bedroom right next to mine. If a fucking mouse tiptoed through there, I’d hear it. It'd have to be enough…for now.
I woke early the following morning, leaving her a quick note inside her door before running up to the firehouse to drop off the heavy-duty pickup and exchanging it for my own. I made it quick, stopping only for coffee and pastries on the way back home, before stepping into my remote cabin, silence greeting me.
I set the coffee and donuts on the kitchen table, about to climb the stairs to check on my girl, when she padded out onto the landing. Looking down at me from the loft was an angel sent directly from heaven.
A slab of concrete hit me in the stomach and nearly scooped the air from my lungs.
“Mornin’.” I finally spoke.
She nodded. She took the top stair slowly, that damn ornery cat perched in one elbow. “Good morning.”
“Picked up some breakfast. Also set some clothes out for you. We will go into town and buy you whatever necessities you need later.”
“Buy me?” She stopped as she reached one of the lower stairs, her height now even with mine. She was such a fucking vision first thing in the morning, her face clean and hair a wild mess, it was like a fist of desire nailed me in the gut.
“Buy you, yes.” I stepped closer, desperate to claim some of the distance between us. “I told that nice paramedic I was going to take care of you, and I meant it.” I cupped her cheek in my palm, leaning another inch closer and whispering. “I’m a man who stands by my word, Brianna.”
I felt the shiver erupt through her.
A matching one vibrated through my dick and itched at me to pull her closer. Kiss her. Fuck her with my tongue and my fingers and my heart.
Goddamn, I was already a man obsessed.
THREE
Brianna
“So, just how old are you, Chief Michaels?” I sat across from him, picking at an apple turnover.
A low chuckle floated across the table. “Old enough to mean what I say, know what I want, and take what I need.”
His answer nearly sent me crashing through the floor. He was gorgeous, cocky, my savior. And somewhere deep down, I wanted to kick him in the balls. The things this man made me feel were inexplicable—impossibly turned on and crazy irrational, emotionally vulnerable, and physically desirable—everything about what I was feeling felt like a contradiction, and yet somehow still so very right.
“That’s an evasive answer at its best. ’Fraid to tell me how old you are?” I arched a playful eyebrow.
He arched his right back. Damn, I hated him. “Not afraid, sweetheart. Just don’t give a shit. Age is just a number, maybe you haven’t learned that yet. Takes a few times around the block before you pick up the wisdom I have.”
I couldn’t help the laugh then. He could sling ’em, and he could take ’em. I liked him. And liking him was dangerous.
I was a girl who fell hard and fast, which is why I didn’t fall.
One high school boyfriend and a broken heart at fifteen was all it’d taken me to write off men.
“So spill the goods. What year were you born, Pops?”
“Pops?” He shook his head, that gorgeous grin deepening. I noticed for the first time the laugh lines bracketing his full lips. He was a man who must laugh a lot. It looked good on him. The soft spray of crow’s feet at his temples complemented the fire that danced in his dark eyes. “What’s your best guess?”
I tilted my head, eyes searching his face greedily.
He could be one of those models from an L.L. Bean catalogue. All rugged and well-aged, like a fine whiskey. Dark and smoky and sweet on the tongue.
I bet he was so sweet on the tongue.
I cleared my throat, forcing myself to look away. “Thirty-five.”
He huffed, drawing my attention back to him. “Close.”
“How close?” The salt-and-pepper sprinkled in his hair only added to the distinguished, confident air. He carried himself well.
“Few years off.” He shrugged, taking a long swig of his coffee, his throat rising and contracting with the action. God, how could watching him swallow coffee be so sexy?
“More than five?” I calculated the numbers in my head. That would put him around forty. If this was what forty looked like, I was A-OK with that.
“More than five,” he confirmed, and I raised my eyes. “Not over forty? And definitely not under thirty-five. You’re like an enigma, Chief Michaels.”
He grinned, his eyes doing that sparkling thing I was fast coming to love. “Forty-two.” He leaned a little closer, his hand brushing my own on the table. “That too old?”
“Old? More like mature and sexy. Nothing about you is old.” I slapped my hands over my mouth in total horror. The words vomited out before I could put a lid on them. Dammit.
He arched one slash of dark eyebrow. “So how many years you got under your belt, Ms. Foster?”
“Twenty…” I paused, stringing him along. “One.”
His eyebrows rose for a moment, glancing down my body then up to my face again.
“Surprised?” I asked, feeling warm and tingly under his intense scrutiny.
“You act more mature. The way you hold yourself, the sarcasm. Don’t usually see sarcasm like that until well into your thirties.”
“It’s a gift.” I shrugged.
He grinned, eyes burning up the space between us and lighting a fire in my belly.
Jinx chose that moment to rumble with irritation in my arms. “He gets angry when he’s hungry.”
I set the old man on the floor, watched him toddle for a moment on the slick hardwood, then plop down on his ass and look straight up at me, letting out a long, low howl in frustration.
“When is he not angry?” Blaise’s eyes turned down to my cat. “I’ve got some tuna. Will he eat that?”
“He’ll eat anything. I’ll have to go to the store and get him some food later.” Without money. God. My life sucked.
“We’ll stop at the pet store. Maybe pick up some fresh bandages for your wound too while we’re out.” He set a can of open tuna at Jinx’s feet, and the old cat started feasting instantly. But only after swiping
and growling at Blaise. “How is it feeling?”
Blaise bent to the floor and placed a hand on my knee, his fingertips trailing up the curve before tracing around the cotton bandage.
Fireflies bounced off the walls of my stomach. The way his rough, heavy palms touched my skin was like they’d always meant to be there. Like he knew exactly how and where to touch me to melt me into a pool of delicious submission.
“It feels fine,” I finally choked out.
“Maybe I should take a look at it?” His fingers wrapped around my calf as he held me in place, firm and steady in his grip.
The power harnessed by his body alone was a turn-on, but then to have him so close, so in my space, was threatening to my very sanity.
Blaise turned, striding down a long hallway and disappearing out of my sight. My eyes took in the simple surroundings of his cabin. Definitely a bachelor pad, but clean, well-cared for. Just like everything he did, I imagined.
Giant windows soared up to the second story of the big A-frame, snow-capped mountains dominating the view. Everything about Blaise Michaels was impressive, not just the way he held himself, but the way he really cared for the things he loved. The way he knew what he liked and how he liked it. I could use an injection of his kind of confidence once in a while.
“Fresh bandages and some antibiotic cream.” He sauntered back into the room, holding his finds. He crouched between my knees, handling me gently as he cleaned my cut with a damp cloth, then medicated and covered the wound with fresh dressing.
“Thank you for doing this. I don’t think I could ever thank you enough.” Jinx chose that moment to meow loudly and curl his tail around my ankle. “Jinx thanks you too.”
Blaise arched an eyebrow, glancing at the cat now hovering around his knees, and then rested his palm on my knee. “You’re welcome for as long as you need, Brianna. I mean that.”
I swallowed, eyes transfixed by his as I felt a thousand more things passing between us.
