Light Up The Night (Firehouse Three Book 2)

by Regina Cole

  “You’ve got to be kidding me! What the hell is this? That’s it, I’m taking your tubby butt back to the shelter tomorrow,” Drake said as he scooped Gossamer into his arms. The dog just smiled and licked his face.

  “You wouldn’t,” Everly said, wiping the tears of laughter from her cheeks.

  “You’re right, I wouldn’t, but damn that was cold,” Drake said as he bent down to put her into her canopied bed. Fortunately for Gossamer, she circled twice and lay down, resting her chin against the tufted bolster.

  “She’s got a mind of her own, that’s for sure.”

  “Most dogs do,” Everly agreed. “But she’s got a fun way of showing it.”

  “Thank you for all your help tonight,” Drake said, stepping closer to Everly. The sound of her laughter had reminded him just how much he enjoyed being with her. And though he didn’t want the night to end, he wasn’t about to pull her into the deep end if she wasn’t ready. Not after the fun they’d had together this evening. “I couldn’t have pulled this off without you.”

  “That’s not true,” Everly said, looking up into his eyes. Damn, her beautiful blue stare was magnetic, drawing him in. “You’re smart, and you would have figured it out. Honestly, you didn’t need half of the stuff you got tonight.”

  “I like to take care of my own,” he said, wrapping one arm around Everly’s waist. “And now that little dog is my own.”

  “She doesn’t know how lucky she has it.” Everly’s voice was becoming breathy, and she leaned in to him, just slightly. “You’re something else, Drake Hammerfell.”

  “So are you,” he whispered, just before he kissed her.

  She’d been trying very hard to pretend that she was just being friendly. That she was helping Drake get his new dog settled, since he obviously needed the guidance. That this was no more than anyone would do in her situation.

  She was full of shit.

  When his lips touched hers, all her previous ridiculous ideas burned up in the heat of her passion. His mouth possessed her, warm, inviting, not demanding, but asking her to come along with him and feel. She couldn’t help but ride the wave of sensation as it bade her to wind her arms around his neck, lean into him, and open her mouth to his questing tongue.

  He groaned as she tasted him, matching him stroke for stroke. Her fingers tangled in the short, wavy hair at the back of his head, and his hands fell to her hips and brought her in.

  All her senses were possessed. She couldn’t believe what was happening to her. Fear had melted away, uncertainty, the belief that things were just too difficult to work out. It was all gone. Drake had single-handedly convinced her, with his gentle persuasion, and how could she possibly do anything but be with him in this moment?

  Simple. She couldn’t.

  Together they fell to the bed, entwined close as a breath, quiet as a heartbeat. Her body shivered with anticipation as his broad hand found the hem of her shirt and lifted it higher, slowly exposing her back to the cool air of the bedroom. She tore her mouth away from his long enough to help him remove her shirt.

  God help her, she wanted to be naked with him again.

  His eyes lit with a dark, sensuous fire as she slid the straps of her bra down her arms. Rolling onto his back, he pulled her with him so that she straddled his hips as the plain cotton fell from her chest and her breasts were revealed.

  Power thrummed through her as she splayed her hands on his chest, her hair sliding forward off her shoulder as she leaned down. She was in charge here, and the feeling was so new, so heady, she wasn’t sure what to do first.

  Drake solved that riddle for her by lifting his own shirt over his head and tossing it away. His bare chest presented a world of possibilities that she was dying to explore. God, those muscles fired her up like a four-alarm blaze.

  His fingers dug slightly into her hips as she pressed her lips to his collarbone, nipping the skin lightly. Her kisses trailed lower, fire glowing in her belly as he shifted beneath her. His cock was hardening against her core, the jeans they both wore not hiding his erection in the slightest.

  So he liked this? Good. She was going to do much, much more.

  Her tongue darted out and teased his flat, masculine nipple. His breath caught on a groan.

  “Everly,” he said, his back arching slightly under ministrations. “Baby girl, you keep this up and I’m going to find it hard to take it slow.”

  “What if I don’t want you to take it slow?” She moved off of him and unbuttoned his jeans, the rasp of the zipper loud in the otherwise quiet room. He lifted his hips for her as she pulled the fabric down and off of him.

  Good Lord. She had forgotten how delicious he looked. The bulge in his dark green boxer briefs was begging for her touch, for her kiss, for her body to worship his.

  And she was so fucking ready.

  “Your wish is my command.” His statement was nearly a growl, and her heart tripped over its beat as he raised up, yanked off his boxer briefs, and stripped her just as quickly. Strong arms were her sensual prison as he pressed her into his bed, hands questing over her fevered skin.

  His mouth took hers, a sensual onslaught she was more than ready for. Her body wept for him, her core throbbing with want, dampness slicking her skin as she thought of the sweet invasion of his cock to come.

  God, she couldn’t remember why this had frightened her before. Drake was everything, and she wanted him so badly that she couldn’t think anymore. Feeling was everything, and Drake’s muscular body pressing her into the covers, his hands caressing her breasts, then her ass, and then delving between her spread thighs to part her sensitive nether lips, were all she could feel.

  When his finger dipped inside her, she cried out, arching against him.

  “Sssh,” he said, pressing his lips to the soft ridge of her ear. “Stay with me, baby. Let me make you come.”

  As his finger gently breached her, his thumb flicked her clit. In, and out, his thumb drawing lazy circles around that hard, throbbing, tender nub, his teeth grazing her ear, her lower belly tightening to the point of pain. Everly couldn’t think. Her breath came in pants, her fingers dug into the hard, taut muscles of his shoulders, and his hips pumped sinuously against her thigh as he worked her.

  The tension built within her, echoed in her cries as his hand quickened between her thighs. He added a second finger inside her, stretching her, filling her, but not deep enough, it wasn’t enough. She wanted his cock.

  And she was desperate enough to beg.

  “Please,” her moan was breathless. “Please, Drake.”

  “Please, what?” He pressed hard on her clit with the heel of his hand, and she nearly bucked off the bed.

  “Please fuck me!”

  She didn’t have to ask twice.

  A heartbeat later, condom in place, Drake was between her thighs, that hot, blunt head of his erection probing at her where his fingers had been only a split second before. She stared up into his eyes.

  He was looking into her, as if he could see all the way down to her soul. His lips were parted, the muscles on his arms sharply defined as he held his weight above her.

  “Are you ready?”

  She nodded and pulled him down to her. His lips took hers as he slipped deep into her, his heat stretching her, filling her, making her shake and cling harder to him to keep from splintering into pieces.

  His tongue swirled around hers as his hips began a sweet, even rhythm. Slow at first, then faster, deeper, harder as she lifted her body to meet his and opened her mouth wider for him. He was inside her, in so many ways, not all of them physical. Her heart was pounding, her blood was thundering through her ears, and the passion inside her was screaming one name.

  Drake.

  She felt his body tense above her as he pulled away. Looking down at her, he stilled for half a heartbeat.

  In that impossibly brief, eternal moment, she met his gaze unflinching. Ready. She trusted him. This was right. And she didn’t want to wait anymore.


  His hand reached between them to find her, and together they cried out as hot pulses overtook them both. Everly held him tight as the last few spasms wracked his big, muscled body, her own pleasure tingling through her limbs.

  As the rush of her pulse quieted, and she became aware of her surroundings once again, Everly could hear Drake’s thundering heartbeat. She smiled, tucking her cheek to his chest. It was a beautiful sound.

  Drake moved to her side and rolled her to face away from him. He curled up with his arms around Everly, her body tucked into his—she’d never been the little spoon before, and she liked it. She closed her eyes.

  Why had she ever been afraid of this? Of being with him and allowing herself to live? Now it seemed so silly, with his strong arms wrapped around her and his body tucked behind hers.

  The memory of their earlier conversation surfaced, and with the heat of his body warming her, she searched through it again. Jo-Jo. The thought of that sweet, fluffy black pup not living, not ever getting to chase a tennis ball, not ever sleeping on the bed of a person she’d loved had been Everly’s driving force to open the rescue. Dogs like Jo-Jo deserved a chance at life and happiness. She’d believed that when she was eight years old, and she still believed it today.

  So why was it so hard to think that she, herself, might deserve the same things? Being with Drake made her feel more alive than anything else did. And when she was with him? She was happy.

  It was time to stop being so afraid of life outside her mental cardboard box, and to start living.

  An idea popped into her head, and her eyes flew open.

  Should she? It would be a step forward, for sure. A gesture of faith. A step outside that cardboard box.

  “My parents have a lake house,” she said, snuggling even closer to him. For courage. “It’s up at Lake Texoma. Would you like to go up there with me in a couple weeks? We could fish, tool around on the jet ski, maybe watch a sunset or two.”

  “Sounds nice,” he said, his deep voice rumbling against her back. God, that was an incredible feeling. “Sure, I’d love to.”

  As he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, Everly let her eyes drift closed again.

  Tomorrow there would be plenty of time to second-guess this impetuous decision. And despite her earlier revelation, she knew there would probably be doubts. But for now?

  Drake rolled over and began kissing her again, and all her worries were cheerfully shoved to the back corner of her mind.

  Her worries could wait. Her fireman could not.

  14.

  A long, lazy sunbeam reached across Drake’s bed and speared him directly in the eyes. Grunting, he threw an arm across his face and rolled onto his back.

  His stretch brought his free hand into contact with a warm, still body.

  He looked over at her, his chest getting warmer and fuller as he took in the sight of her.

  Her back was toward him, the covers draped over the curve of her hip. Her smooth, beautiful skin invited him to touch, to remember the softness in real time. A small tattoo caught his attention on her lower left hip, a set of paw prints he hadn’t noticed until now. There was a name written below them, the script fancy and a bit faded as if the ink was a bit aged. Jo-Jo.

  Drake rolled onto his side, letting his fingers lay lightly on the slight nip-in at her waist, just above that tattoo.

  Jo-Jo. It was obvious now exactly who Jo-Jo was. He was so glad she’d shared that story with him last night.

  “Thanks, Jo-Jo,” he whispered, so low there was hardly any sound to it. If not for that little pup someone had abandoned, her life would have taken a totally different course. And who knew if they’d end up together in that alternate reality? The way Drake saw it, he owed that little dog a big thank-you.

  With one last gentle touch on the tattoo, Drake pulled Everly closer. She pressed her hips back against him with a happy, sleepy sigh.

  Remembering the night they’d passed together, Drake smiled into her hair. The sex had been unbelievable. She was as wild and as passionate as he could ever have wished for her to be. There was no trace of the hesitation that had marred their last awkward encounter.

  And then for her to drop that invitation on him? He felt like the luckiest man alive to wake up with this beautiful woman in bed next to him.

  The beautiful, boneless heap next to him grunted something that sounded like “Imssit.”

  “I couldn’t understand you,” Drake said as he ran his fingers through long, silky dark hair. God, it was like satin. “What’d you say?”

  “Time is it?” Everly’s eyes were open to mere slits, as if she was too exhausted to go for a full-on view of the daylight hours.

  Drake knew the feeling. They’d been at it for a long time before they both passed out in bed, Gossamer in her puppy ass-palace.

  “Looks like ten after eight,” Drake said, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Want coffee?”

  “Yeah,” she said, stretching.

  With everything they’d done last night, he should be wrung out, exhausted, good to take a break for a few days at least. But the sight of her surrounded by his sheets, her hair mussed from a good fucking, her back arching and breasts thrusting skyward as she stretched had him hardening up like the damn bedpost again.

  “You keep that up and neither of us will have coffee for a long time,” he growled playfully before dropping a kiss to her lips and swinging his legs over the edge of the bed.

  He reached for the pair of basketball shorts he’d left draped over the foot rail. A sound behind him made him turn.

  Everly was sitting upright in his bed, holding the sheet up to cover her bare breasts.

  He paused, one foot in his shorts. “You okay?”

  She shook her head quickly, as if she was clearing the cobwebs. “Yeah, sorry, I’m fine.” Turning her back to him, she cleared her throat. “Is it okay if I use your bathroom?”

  “Sure, you know where it is. You don’t have to ask.”

  Without answering, she slipped out of his bed and darted toward the door, a white flash of naked skin that was gone much too soon for his greedy gaze.

  With his shorts donned, he frowned.

  Damn it. Was she getting all up in her head again about them?

  Breathe, man. Just keep on keepin’ on. Give her some time to get used to all this.

  With his brain in a much better place than his guts were, Drake went into the kitchen and began loading grounds into the belly of the caffeine beast.

  The familiar ritual helped him chill out, and as the dark, fragrant aroma began filling the kitchen, he dug through the fridge for everything he needed. One by one, ingredients hit the counter.

  Eggs. Cheese. Butter. Bacon. A little green pepper, some onion, some fresh mushrooms.

  Snatching his apron from the hook behind the door, he pulled it on, noting as he tied the strings that he’d forgotten to put his shirt on when he’d left the bedroom.

  Oh, well. Maybe Everly would like the look. He sure as hell hoped so.

  He got to choppin’. Soon there were mounds of diced onion, pepper, and mushroom on his cutting board while bacon sizzled in the pan. He was cracking eggs into a bowl when a set of cool hands slipped beneath the bib of his apron to wrap around his waist.

  “Sorry,” Everly said, her voice muffled against the bare skin of his back. “I didn’t mean to get weird.”

  “No need to apologize,” Drake said, smiling as he tossed the empty eggshells into the pile of kitchen scraps he’d accumulated from his early-morning Emeril routine. “You like omelets?”

  “Love them,” Everly said, pressing a quick, searing kiss to his spine that made Drake wish he could just let the food burn and take her down to the linoleum. “But I’m not a fan of peppers.”

  “Consider them fired,” Drake said. He turned just long enough to wrap one arm around Everly and tuck her in to his side.

  Bending her backward, he kissed her long, hard, and thoroughly. When he set her back on her feet, he calml
y resumed scrambling the eggs in the bowl.

  “Pour yourself a cup of coffee and keep me company?”

  Everly nodded, looking dazed. He was gratified as hell that he wasn’t the only one going crazy with desire here.

  The eggs sizzled in the pan, and Drake got serious about the cooking. A sharp, insistent chiming sound brought his head around for a second.

  The first thing he thought about was the chief and that weird comment he’d made when Drake had left the station last. Damn it, he couldn’t drop this to answer.

  “Everly, would you mind answering my phone for me? I’ve got my hands full.”

  “Sure,” she said, darting from the kitchen, leaving her coffee cup behind.

  His phone had been in the living room. From his vantage point at the stove, he could hear Everly’s end of the conversation fairly easily.

  “Hello?” She paused. “No, this is Drake Hammerfell’s phone. He’s tied up right this second, can I take a message?”

  Another pause. Drake reached for one of the two plates he’d pulled down and put Everly’s omelet—free of green pepper—onto it. He slapped the rest of the egg mixture into the pan and started cooking his own.

  “This is—well, this is his girlfriend.”

  Damn, had he heard that right? The smile started deep within his chest, and spread out and up until his whole body felt wreathed in the expression. Girlfriend. Everly was admitting, out loud, to whoever had answered the phone, that they were together.

  Now if that wasn’t a girl jumping into the damn deep end, he didn’t know what the fuck was.

  Her eyes were burning like a tire fire, but she couldn’t blink to save her life.

  “What did you say?” Belinda’s knuckles cracked as she squeezed the phone tighter in her hand.

  The voice from across the miles sounded smug, vain, and obnoxious. “This is his, erm, girlfriend. Can I take a message for him?”

  “No.” Belinda said it flatly, and killed the call the instant the syllable had left her lips.

  She rocketed off the couch in the apartment they’d shared, pacing up and down in front of the marble-tiled hearth.