Flare Up

by Shannon Stacey

  “I can carry you to the bedroom, you know,” he said, yanking her hips against his and grinning at her. “I’m a firefighter.”

  “I seem to recall you carrying me recently and it wasn’t at all sexy.”

  “Yeah, but you’ll be conscious this time.”

  She laughed. “Somehow I think that would make it even more uncomfortable.”

  When he reached down and scooped her off her feet, one arm under her knees and one behind her back, she squealed and grabbed on to his neck. “See, this is pretty sexy.”

  “Why didn’t you carry me this way before?”

  He chuckled. “Because we would have fallen down the stairs.”

  When he was almost to the bedroom, she ducked her head against his chest, which made him chuckle again.

  “You don’t really think I’d hit your head on the doorjamb, do you?”

  “Not on purpose.”

  When he deposited her on the bed, she didn’t let go of his neck. Instead, she kissed him again. He slid his body over hers and she reveled in the weight of him as his tongue danced over hers.

  “We forgot to take our clothes off,” she murmured against his mouth.

  He pushed himself up onto his elbows to look down at her. “Are you in a hurry?”

  Oh, she wasn’t falling into that trap. “Nope. Just pointing it out.”

  His grin told her he wasn’t buying it for a second. “I think you’re impatient.”

  “I think you’re wearing too many clothes.”

  He rolled off her and stood. Then, with his eyes on her breasts, he popped the button on his jeans and unzipped them. His sigh of relief was unmistakable. Then he slid the jeans and his boxer briefs to the floor, kicking them off, and she sighed, too, in appreciation. He pulled his socks off, and then leaned over the bed as she undid her jeans.

  There was that grin again as he pulled and tugged her jeans down her legs. He tossed them aside and then her socks, leaving her in nothing but the white lace panties that matched the bra. “I like those.”

  “I thought you might.” She knew he wasn’t picky about her underwear. Lace or cotton, white or black. It didn’t matter. He just liked that thin scrap of fabric to play with.

  He lifted her leg and kissed the inside of her calf. Then behind her knee. Then he nipped gently at the soft skin of her thigh.

  “Grant,” she breathed.

  He ignored her, kissing his way to the white lace. When his mouth closed over it, she hissed in a breath. Sucking her through the fabric, he made a low sound of appreciation that pleased her almost as much as the heat of his mouth through the lace.

  When she lifted her hips, he used the flat of his hand on her hipbone to push her down against the mattress. Then he slipped his finger under the elastic so his knuckle brushed against her clit. She jerked and clenched the sheets in her fists.

  Not until she was practically writhing on the bed did he lift his head. The panties joined the other clothes on the floor and he ran his hands up the insides of her legs. Wren held her breath as he pushed them apart so he could bury his head between her thighs.

  His tongue slid over her clit and then delved into her, and she closed her eyes, savoring the sensation. When his mouth closed over her, sucking gently before his tongue dipped into her again, she curled her fingers in his hair, holding his head.

  He didn’t stop—licking and sucking and using his fingers—until her back arched off the bed and she moaned as the orgasm robbed her of coherent thought.

  Only when Grant started kissing his way up her body again, stopping to give her nipples the same treatment he’d given her clit, did she open her eyes.

  He lifted his head and smiled down at her. “You didn’t think I’d forget how much you like that, did you?”

  “I was hoping you’d remember.”

  “I could never forget anything about you. God knows I tried, but you’re seared into my brain. Every look. Every touch.”

  She shivered under the intensity of his gaze, and then scraped her fingernails down his back. When she splayed her fingers over the curve of his very fine and muscular ass, the playful grin returned.

  “As much as I want to make you come with my mouth again, I want to be inside you more.” When she nodded, he ran his thumb over her bottom lip. “Maybe we can save that for dessert.”

  It was going to be a long, fabulous night, she thought as he stretched his arm out to his nightstand for a condom. It only took him seconds to put it on, and then he moved between her thighs.

  Wren exhaled in a long, shaky breath as he entered her. Slowly. Excruciatingly slowly, which was both delicious and infuriating at the same time. She tried to lift her hips and take him all, but Grant anticipated that and used his hands on her hips to hold her back.

  The smug curve of his mouth told her he knew exactly what he was doing to her, but the slight tremble in his arms and back let her know he was tormenting himself right along with her and it wouldn’t take much.

  “Please, Grant,” she whispered, digging her fingertips into the cheeks of his ass.

  He let himself go, filling her so completely it took her breath away for a few seconds. Then he started moving and the sweet friction made her whimper. She ran her hands up his back, feeling the muscles tense and ripple as he moved within her.

  Lowering his head, he sucked first one nipple and the other with just enough pressure to make her gasp before reaching between their bodies to brush his thumb over her clit. He was trying to kill her, she thought as the sensations started building.

  He quickened his pace, thrusting faster and deeper as he stroked her clit, until the orgasm shook her body and had her biting down on the side of her hand to keep from screaming out his name.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous when you come,” he said in a low, raspy voice. She barely heard him, as her body trembled and she tried to catch her breath.

  His breath was almost as harsh and she fisted her hand in his hair, yanking his head down so she could kiss him. It was a hard, punishing kiss and he groaned against her lips, his hips jerking as he came.

  When he collapsed on top of her, she wrapped her arms around him and hooked one of her legs over his, as if she could keep him there indefinitely. He kissed her neck and his breath blew in hot, rapid spurts against her skin.

  All too soon, he reached down to secure the condom and rolled away from her. “Don’t move.”

  She couldn’t have moved if she wanted to. Her muscles were practically liquid and she was pretty sure if she tried to make a sound, it would just come out as a satisfied purr.

  The second he was back in bed, he pulled her into his arms. She was pretty sure most couples spooned, but he liked her to be facing him so he could see her. He smoothed her hair back from her face and kissed her.

  “I’ve missed that,” he said. “So much.”

  “Me, too.”

  “It was the longest five months of my adult life,” he said.

  “Five months?”

  “Trust me, jerking off in the shower is no substitute for having you in my bed. Not even close.”

  He said the words lightly, but even in the dim light coming from the living room, she could see the emotions behind them in his eyes. There had been nobody for him in the time she was away. She’d wondered a few times, but she didn’t dare to ask out of fear of the answer. And she knew she didn’t have the right to question what he’d done during those months.

  She smiled and traced his lips with her fingertip. “I guess we’ll have to make up for lost time.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “You can’t possibly intend to eat that much bacon.”

  Grant looked up from his plate to find Wren staring at it. “There’s no such thing as too much bacon.”

  “There is. And it’s on your plate right now.”

  “I worked up
an appetite last night. I need to replenish myself.” He grinned when she blushed and glanced around as if to see if anybody else in the restaurant had heard them. “And that’s why people pay extra for the all-you-can-eat breakfast buffet. So they can have as much bacon as they want.”

  “You didn’t get any toast.”

  “Toast is filler.”

  “You take that all-you-can-eat thing pretty seriously.”

  “It’s all about the money. A lot of people think it sounds like a great deal, so they pay the extra and then end up with what they normally get on their plates. Their brains tell them that’s breakfast, so very few go back enough to make it worth the cost. I only get the good stuff and I know I’ll go back.”

  She leaned over and snagged a piece of bacon from his plate. “And I’ll just eat my regular breakfast but steal your bacon. Since you’re going back and all.”

  “You better not get my all-you-can-eat privileges revoked.”

  She laughed. “That’s not a thing.”

  “It’s totally a thing. Ask Tommy and Fitzy about it.”

  “You’re joking.”

  He took a long swig of his coffee before launching into the story. “You can ask Marlene, the owner. Tommy and Fitzy have been eating breakfast here for decades, but they’re not allowed to have the buffet. Years ago, when they were both still on the job, they’d come in and Tommy would get the buffet. Fitzy would always claim he wasn’t very hungry and he’d get a coffee and an English muffin. Fitzy would just eat off Tommy’s plate, and Tommy would keep going back until they were both full. Then they’d split the total cost.”

  “And they got caught?”

  “Marlene didn’t believe a guy like Fitzy—and a firefighter, no less—was getting through to lunch on an English muffin, so she started paying attention. Legend has it she literally kicked Fitzy in the ass on the way out the door when she threw them out.”

  “She must be tall,” Wren said, her skepticism obvious.

  He shrugged. “Or flexible.”

  “But she allowed them to come back?”

  “The food is amazing and there aren’t many places with coffee this good, so Fitzy calculated how many times he’d eaten off Tommy’s plate and brought in a brown paper bag of cash to make it up to her.”

  “No, he didn’t.” Her eyes widened when he nodded. “And it worked?”

  “She let them come back, but they can never have the all-you-can-eat buffet again.” He pointed his fork at her. “So stop stealing my bacon.”

  She laughed and dug into her mushroom omelet. They ate in silence for a few minutes, but he didn’t mind. His leg was rested against hers under the table and whenever their eyes met, she smiled.

  He would have liked to keep her in his bed all day, but she had to work at the market. And because she hadn’t intended to spend the night at his place, she had to go home first. But he’d talked her into having breakfast. And then he’d talked her into letting him follow her to Patty’s so she could change and leave her car, and then he’d drive her to the market. Extra time with her.

  She hadn’t budged on taking the bus home after work, though. That fell under the going slow thing, apparently. She wasn’t going to spend two nights in a row at his place, and she wasn’t going to have him driving all around the city just to drop her off and go home alone.

  This was nice, though. As he went back to the buffet to get more of the good stuff, he marveled at how much his life had turned around since the night of the fire.

  It had been grim when she left. He’d gone through a lot of stages—shock, denial, grief—but the most potent one had been anger. He’d been angry with everybody over everything at first. Then it had mellowed to just a shitty attitude in general. Some of the guys had suggested he try dating again, but he’d had no interest in letting another woman into his life.

  He’d pretty much come to terms with the fact he was going to end up a lonely, angry old man who yelled at kids who hit baseballs into his yard. Someday, when he actually had a yard.

  And now here he was, happier than he’d been in months, and sharing breakfast with the only woman he’d ever loved.

  He was going to have to tell his parents. He’d put off mentioning Wren because he wasn’t sure what exactly to tell them about what was going on. But now that they’d defined their relationship and were going to work on building a future together again, that phone call needed to be made.

  To say his mom wasn’t Wren’s biggest fan would be an understatement.

  “You can’t be serious,” Wren said when he slid back into the booth.

  “What? I didn’t get any more bacon.”

  She stabbed one of the sausage links with her fork and transferred it to her plate, and then laughed when he made a big show out of looking over his shoulder for Marlene.

  But if there was anybody he’d be willing to risk his all-you-can-eat buffet privileges for, it was Wren.

  * * *

  As she pulled into the driveway, Wren realized she had no idea what to say to Patty. She hadn’t gone home last night. Was that a problem?

  Grant pulled up to the curb as she was getting out, so she waited for him. “Do you think I should have called Patty last night?”

  “I think it would have been a little weird, considering what we were doing.”

  She laughed and slapped his arm. “You know what I mean.”

  “I... Crap. I don’t know. I mean, she’s not your mom. But she’s also not just a landlord.”

  “She seems like the kind of woman who would worry when she didn’t hear me come in.”

  “But, you did tell her you were going to my place, right?” When she nodded, he shrugged. “She’s a smart lady. She probably figured that one out.”

  “I’m not sure how I feel about that.” They started up the walkway, side by side, and he captured her hand in his. “I don’t know what the expectations are, but it would be super awkward to ask.”

  “You’re a grown woman. Yes, she’ll worry about you, but I don’t think you’re expected to check in with her.” He paused before they went inside. “When you think about it, you were being a courteous tenant by not trying to sneak in late and waking everybody up.”

  She laughed. “Good point.”

  Patty didn’t seem at all put out when they walked into the house. She was sitting in the living room, but she got off the couch at the same time Carter walked out of the kitchen.

  “Oh good, you’re home and you brought Grant,” she said. “I’ve been waiting for a nice, strong man to stop by.”

  Carter rolled his eyes. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Another nice, strong man. It’s a two-man job and yes, you’ll be one of them.”

  “I’m going to run up and get ready for work,” Wren said. And then, since she had no idea what Grant was in for or how long it would take, she added, “Grant’s driving me today.”

  “Oh, don’t worry,” Patty said. “It won’t take them long. They’ll probably be done before you are.”

  On her way up the stairs, she heard them talking about the snowblower, but they went out the back door before she found out what the specific issue was.

  She took one of the fastest showers of her life and put on clean clothes. It took forever to dry her hair, so she decided to skip that step today. Makeup was on her replace someday maybe list, but she had moisturizer and lip balm, which she made liberal use of.

  She’d just finished putting her hair into a ponytail when her phone rang. That was weird because everybody sent text messages. Except Mrs. Belostotsky, who actually used a landline. Frowning, she flipped it over.

  Unknown.

  She jerked her hand away from the phone and took a step back, her heart hammering in her chest.

  You’re being ridiculous, she told herself. It could be anybody. Maybe it was somebody looking for the previous
owner of the telephone number. They’d probably leave a message because she hadn’t personalized the greeting with her name or her voice. It was just a generic robot reading off the number and inviting them to leave a message.

  She waited, staring at it as it rang. And once it stopped, she kept staring and waiting. Eventually it became obvious whoever it was hadn’t left a voicemail. There was just the missed call notification.

  That was a disappointment. She’d been hoping for a “hey, wrong number” or “we’re trying to reach so-and-so” so she could put it out of her mind. Instead it was just...unknown.

  She was wound so tight, the text message chime almost made her scream.

  You about ready?

  She’d forgotten all about Grant and work and everything but her phone. After double-checking herself in the mirror, she picked up the phone and cleared the missed call notification. Then she flipped the switch to silent and slid it into her back pocket before going downstairs.

  They were all in the living room, though it was obvious Grant was trying to work his way toward the door.

  “Sorry,” she said, keeping her voice light. “I lost track of time.”

  “I don’t want to rush you, but we’ll be cutting it close if we don’t leave soon.”

  “I’m ready.”

  “Drive careful,” Patty said. “And thank you again, Grant.”

  “Anytime.” He practically pushed Wren out the door.

  “We’re not cutting it that close,” she said.

  “No, but she started talking about a few things she needs done around the house and I don’t mind helping, but the more she talked, the more things she thought of.”

  “What did she need you to do today?”

  “Oh, the snowblower had a flat. It wasn’t so much a two-man job as a job she didn’t think Carter knew how to do but needed to learn. Gavin said she’s been telling Cait lately how concerned she is about Carter learning to do all the guy stuff with his dad gone and not around to teach him.”