“I love the way you look with your legs pinned back, your big tits bouncing, your pretty nipples hard and begging for me.” Every drop of moisture in his body now covered his skin, making his insides parched and his voice scratchy. “You’re so goddamn tight. Fuck me, you feel so fucking good.”
“So, so good,” she panted. “So big and…full. You…uhn…”
Incoherent sentences meant she was getting close, but not close enough for his peace of mind. If she didn’t come soon, he’d lose the last thread he had on his control, not to mention his Man Card for finishing before he made the woman he was with come again before he took his own.
“I can’t decide where I like your sweet cunt more,” he said. “Grinding on my tongue or riding my dick.” Leaning back, he looked down to where their bodies connected. “Damn, baby, I really like seeing your body swallow my cock.”
He grabbed her right hip with one hand for leverage, his fingers digging in hard enough they’d probably leave marks, making his inner caveman grunt with satisfaction. The palm of his other hand lay over the mound of her sex. Perfect placement for his thumb to stimulate her clit while his fingers pushed on her abdomen just above her pubic bone, causing more friction from his cock against her G-spot on the inside.
The double assault had the desired effect. A moan turned into a squeak, and her body jolted like he’d hooked her up to jumper cables. But when he expected her climax to follow shortly after, her brow furrowed and her moans turned to whimpers that sounded more distressed than the little mews of rapture he wanted to hear. Whether she knew it or not, she was fighting her orgasm.
“Come for me, baby. I want to feel your cunt squeezing me like a fist, bathing me in your sweet cum.” He watched her ride that fine edge as her two sides fought for control—one refusing to give in and the other begging for release. Leaning in, he whispered against her ear. “Let go, Livvie, baby. I’m right here to catch you. Let yourself fall.”
“Oh my— Wolf!”
Male pride swept through him to hear his name—or one of them, at least—ripped from her throat as she finally erupted beneath him and he roared through his own scorching release. Erik tunneled his arms under her and held her to him as he continued to slowly pump in and out, offering sweet encouragements as they rode out the last waves of their pleasure.
“Good girl, Livvie,” he said with a kiss to her temple.
“That was…” She sighed and finished with, “Perfect.”
Her body glistened with sweat and not an ounce of tension remained. The woman who just rocked every corner of his world peered up at him with a shy smile and hooded eyes that sparked something deep in his gut; he’d call it his gut for now, despite the location being decidedly higher. That was a revelation for later, if ever.
Erik turned down the bed, then slid her legs under the cool sheet and comforter before pulling them up around her shoulders. He set the lamp to rights and headed into the bathroom where he took care of the condom and cleaned up. On his way back, he adjusted the thermostat up a couple degrees, redressed, and neatly arranged her clothes and shoes on the couch before returning to her.
She was already fast asleep, her breaths deep and even. He climbed onto the bed next to her, staying above the covers to avoid the temptation of her body and coaxing her from sleep for a repeat performance. As it was, it took ten times of mentally field stripping his M16 before his dick stopped hoarding his blood supply, the selfish prick.
As he lay on his side, he tried committing the finer details of her features to memory. She looked like an angel, resting peacefully, and it tugged on something in his chest he thought had died long ago. He knew nothing about her, and yet that something urged him to not let her go after only one night.
Maybe she’d let him take her out to breakfast. Then, after some friendly conversation, he’d ask for her number so he could see her again. It’d probably be pushing his luck, considering how against it she’d been from the beginning, but maybe she’d reconsider. It wasn’t entirely outside the realm of possibilities.
Erik decided he’d stay awake in case Livvie woke up in the middle of the night. Unfortunately, his satiated body had other plans, and when he woke up from the sun piercing through his eyelids, the angel known as Livvie had vanished without a trace.
“Fuck,” he muttered, scrubbing his hands over his face to get the blood flowing.
She was obviously fine. If she’d wanted him to contact her, she would have left a note or business card or her number drawn in lipstick on the dresser mirror. But she didn’t. Their one-night stand would stay just that. One night.
Convincing himself that what he felt were pangs of hunger and not disappointment, he dressed and made his way to the elevators. According to the time on his phone, it was past checkout time, which meant the hotel most likely already billed him for a second night. Maybe he could talk his way out of the extra charge. The place wasn’t exactly cheap. It wasn’t like he didn’t have the funds, but he’d rather add that money to his yearly donations to the Wounded Warrior Project and Fallen Firefighters Foundation than waste it on another night’s stay he wouldn’t even be using.
Sliding his phone into his pocket, his fingers brushed over a scrap of lace. Her red thong. He forgot he’d stuck it in his pocket last night instead of tossing it with her bra and dress. Hopefully she hadn’t been too distraught when she couldn’t find it this morning. Either way, he wasn’t sorry he had it. The thong was the only thing he had as proof that she wasn’t merely a figment of his imagination, conjured up by his damaged psyche. He wasn’t at that level of crazy yet. His soon-to-be shrink would be thrilled to hear it.
Erik approached the front desk in the lobby and asked the girl behind the counter to check the computer to see if he’d been charged for a second night.
“Oh, you’re with Dr. Jones,” she said, her face brightening. “No, it’s okay. She came down and requested a late check-out time for you, so you’re all good.”
Dr. Jones… Was she talking about Livvie? “Great. Hey, I’m curious how you know her name, since I was the one who rented the room.”
The girl, probably in her early twenties if that, blushed a little then pushed a business card forward. “When she came down I was just starting my shift after having a huge fight with my boyfriend. She saw me trying not to cry and when she asked if I was okay, I kinda broke down into a blubbering mess. Anyway, she offered me her card and told me that if I needed to talk, she’d do it pro bono. She was so sweet. Please thank her again for me.”
Erik picked up the card and stared hard at the name, wondering why it sounded so familiar… Dr. O.J. Jones, PsyD… Then it dawned on him. A cross between a breakfast drink and a character in Raiders of the Lost Ark.
Holy shit. He’d just fucked his therapist.
Chapter Five
“Shit, that’s hot.” Olivia set her steaming latte on her desk and gingerly touched her scalded upper lip.
“Uh, yeah,” Cindi said in her duh tone. “That’s how it is when I hand you a fresh cup. You know”—her pregnant pause birthed droll sarcasm—“like I do every morning.”
Olivia adored her assistant, but at only twenty-two, Cindi rarely censored her sass, despite working in a professional environment at Boston Behavioral Health. Luckily, in front of the clients, she was the picture of professionalism and discretion.
Dr. Edward Marion—owner of the clinic, lead psychologist, and all-around old-school Marine—wasn’t exactly a fan of the pink highlights streaking through Cindi’s white-blond shoulder-length hair, or her colorful and bold attire (the girl had a high-heels collection that rivaled the Kardashians’). However, he recognized that although she might be a little unorthodox for her chosen career path as an assistant to a psychologist, Cindi was damn good at her job and great with their clients.
And Olivia also appreciated the young woman as a friend and a breath of fresh air in a practice dominated by stuffy old men.
“Very funny,” Olivia mumbled. “Can you g
rab me a piece of ice? That’s all I need to start my craptastic Monday—a swollen lip.”
“Sure thing, boss. But while I’m gone, you might want to think about why you’re so damn distracted in the first place.”
Olivia opened her mouth to argue, but Cindi was already out the door.
Which was probably good. She had been distracted, from the moment she’d snuck out of the hotel room and left behind the stunning man who’d made the earth move beneath her. She never imagined it could be like that. So passionate and raw. He’d torn down her walls, ripped away her defenses, and laid her bare with his crude words and rough handling.
And yet, not once had she ever felt unsafe. She’d known the second she laid eyes on him that, at his core, he was one of the good guys. A good guy nicknamed Wolf who was former or current military and quite possibly psychic and/or empathic.
Olivia huffed a sound of disgust as her forehead plunked into her open hands. Psychic or empathic? Really? She didn’t work her ass off in college to come up with cockamamie answers like that. But how else did she explain how he seemed to know exactly what she needed?
He’d been so in-tune with her, like he had a window into her mind. He knew when she questioned her sanity or something made her uncomfortable. A lesser man might not have sensed that at all, and even if he did, he might have taken her discomfort at face value and stopped everything.
But he’d seen past that and somehow knew exactly when and how far he needed to push her to prevent her from getting in her own way. And he’d given her the beautiful gift of permission.
Permission to submit.
Not to him, but to her own hidden desires without the weight of her past and her guilt. He’d narrowed her world down to the several inches where their bodies merged. And then he’d blown her whole world apart in the most explosive and all-consuming orgasms of her entire life.
“Okay, I wrapped it in a paper towel so—”
Cindi stopped in the middle of Olivia’s office and stared at her. Again, Olivia touched her lip. “Shit, is it that bad?”
“No, not at all.” Snapping out of it, Cindi walked the rest of the way and handed her the wrapped ice cube. “It’s a little red, but I doubt anyone will be staring at your lips close enough to notice.”
“Then what was that look for?”
“Because the rest of you is red, too. Your face and neck are flushed like you’ve just been…” Cindi gasped. Dramatically. “Oh. My. God. Did you have—?”
“Shhh! Jesus, Cin, keep your voice down.”
Perching on the edge of a guest chair, Cindi winced by way of apology then continued her interrogation in a much quieter voice. “Oh, you so did. Come on, give me all the deets.”
Olivia pulled the ice away. Though it made her lip feel better while applied, she suspected there wasn’t a need for it otherwise. Sighing, she unwrapped the cube and dropped it into her latte. She needed the caffeine pronto. “It’s not a big deal, okay?”
“Not a big deal? You’re kidding, right? Boss, you haven’t even dated until very recently, and then you play hide the salami out of the blue? It’s definitely a big deal. Have you been seeing a guy I don’t know about?”
“No, no, it wasn’t like that.”
Olivia took a drink of her much cooler and slightly watered down latte to give her a moment to think. Her marriage to Brett was before she’d hired Cindi, but over time as her assistant became more of a friend, Olivia had confided in her, letting her into her personal life more than a typical employee.
She didn’t want to share details about her time with Wolf, but swimming through hardening cement would be easier than avoiding telling her friend at least the basics. “You know that most of my dates have been disasters from the start, and the ones I’d hoped were promising failed as soon as anything physical came into play.”
Cindi cringed, empathy lining her face. “Yeah, you haven’t had the best luck.” Then her face lit up. “But wait, you were going out with a new guy on Friday. The one who wanted you to drive out to the bar by his house—which frankly, I thought was kind of douchey, but he must’ve made up for it in the sack. Damn, I did not see that coming.”
“Hell no, it wasn’t with him. That guy was super douchey.”
“Then who? I swear, if you don’t spill in the next five seconds—”
“Okay, okay,” she stage-whispered, holding her palms out to settle down her feisty assistant. Olivia cleared her throat and smoothed a hand over her hair, despite knowing not a hair was out of place. Totally opposite of what it looked like the morning after being with Wolf. It’d been mussed in that thoroughly sexed kind of way that announces your recent romp to the entire world. Thankfully, she’d managed to smooth it well enough on the elevator ride down. “It was…a guy I met at the liquor store.”
Cindi’s jaw unhinged and her eyes widened so much that the tips of her faux lashes touched her lids. Before she could hit her with a game of 20 Questions, Olivia rushed out, “I didn’t plan it or anything. He helped me out when I realized I’d locked the keys in my car and we got to talking and one thing led to another which led to a hotel room. These things happen all the time, it wasn’t a big deal. End of story.”
“You—Olivia I-never-do-anything-not-scheduled-in-my-planner Jones—had a random, anonymous hookup?”
“I know, it was totally crazy, and I honestly can’t believe I did it. But I did and now you know so let’s just move on, okay?”
“Um, no. Not okay. You have to give me more than that. What was he like?” Cindi leaned forward and urged, “Come on, you have to tell me something.”
“He was…” Squinting at the ceiling, she tried thinking of the right words to describe her experience with Wolf and found her extensive vocabulary lacking. “He was everything I needed, and yet nothing I expected.”
“Don’t give me that Confucius crap, Jones. Was he hot?”
“As the sun.”
“Did he rock your world?”
Olivia bit the inside of her lip as a latent wave of the heat he’d infused in her crept into her cheeks. “Try, my universe.”
“Ho-ly shit.” Grinning like she’d just been given the key to a legendary secret stash of shoes, Cindi fanned herself with the notepad by the phone. “I’m so beyond proud of you, boss. This is amazing; I can’t wait to meet this miracle worker. When are you going to see him again?”
Olivia’s smile drained from her face. Putting herself back into work mode, she delicately cleared her throat as she needlessly straightened a stack of papers on her desk. “I’m not.”
“What do you mean, you’re not? Damn, did he skip out on you? What a prick. Figures, though. Men who rock entire universes never stick around long enough to appreciate the universes when they’re no longer moving.” Cindi huffed out a breath and slapped the notepad back to its rightful place in obvious disgust.
“Actually, I skipped out on him. I insisted it only be the one time and that neither of us exchange information. Not even our real names.” Cindi looked like Olivia had spoken in Swahili. “I wasn’t looking for someone to date, Cin. In fact, I’d sworn off dating minutes before meeting him. He was the perfect guy to jump-start my sexual battery, so to speak. But just like a dead car battery, once you jump it, you disconnect the cables from the power source and it’ll continue running on its own. That’s what he did for me—and it was great—but now it’s over, and so is this conversation.”
Olivia refused to acknowledge that small voice in her head (okay, it was way lower than that) begging to see Wolf again. But she’d gotten exactly what she wanted Friday night, and no matter how much she might want another universe-rocking night with him, she needed to give herself time to acclimate to this rediscovery of her sexual self before she even thought about seeing someone again, much less Wolf. Hence, her new commitment to remain uncommitted.
No more dating for me for a very long time.
The service bell that alerted Cindi to someone’s presence in case she stepped away from
her desk dinged in the reception area. Both women glanced at the clock on the wall. It was eight o’clock and time to start the day.
“Shit, that’ll be your first client,” Cindi whispered and bolted to her feet. “This convo is most certainly not over, missy. I’ll get more out of you even if I have to spike your latté to loosen your tongue.”
Olivia snorted and readjusted her glasses on the bridge of her nose. “Get thee to work, assistant.”
Cindi passed through the doorway, but then stuck her head back in. “By the way, that battery thing was a horrible analogy.”
Olivia stuck her tongue out at her and received the same in return before Cindi disappeared again, closing the door behind her. Olivia shook her head with a quiet chuckle as she prepared for her first appointment of the day.
She pulled up the file on her computer and scanned it over as a quick refresh. Every Sunday she took the time to look over any new clients she had scheduled for that week. Before she met the client, she wanted to know as much as she could about him or her so she knew the best way to approach the session and whether the client had any violent tendencies she should be aware of.
Grady, Erik. Former army lieutenant. Served ten years with the 75th Ranger Regiment. Six tours of duty; Operation Iraqi Freedom. Awards and achievements include: Silver Star Medal for Valor 4th award, Bronze Star Medal 6th award, Purple Heart Medal 3rd award. Joint Service Commendation Medal, Army Commendation Medal, Joint Service Achievement Medal, Army Achievement Medal, Army Good Conduct Medal 3rd award. Honorably discharged after ten years of service. Currently a Boston firefighter and lieutenant of Rescue 2 company in District 9. Recent incident on the job triggered PTSD from his last tour in Iraq, and since has been showing signs of anxiety during calls and growing worse over time.
Olivia both loved and hated these types of cases. Loved getting the chance to help veterans heal and find their way back to themselves, but hated that cases like this existed in the first place. She wished that when the men and women who served their country came home, all of the nightmares they endured stayed overseas and allowed them to find the peace they deserved.
Hot for the Fireman Page 5
