Hot for the Fireman

by Gina L. Maxwell

  Livvie’s eyes were heavy-lidded with the lust building between them, but they never left his face and didn’t completely close. Something he found to be hot as hell, which ramped things up a bit sooner than he’d planned. He killed the last of the controlled hesitation and dove in. One hand threaded into her hair, the other circled to the front and closed around the smooth column of her throat. He didn’t dare squeeze, but he made sure she felt his grip, his claim.

  My Livvie. Mine.

  What started as a single flame was swiftly growing into an all-out conflagration. Olivia seemed to be just as lost in the moment, tugging on his shirt, his shoulders. Pressing the mound of her sex against him like a cat in heat.

  “Fuck, you’re killing me, gorgeous,” he rasped into her mouth.

  “Same,” she said a little breathlessly.

  Erik was about to show her just how dead he could make them when the captain’s voice droned through the speaker mounted over their heads, directing everyone to the starboard side of the ship, reminding him all too well that they were still very much in public.

  Pulling himself together, he maneuvered them back to their original place at the railing and nodded over her shoulder. “Look.”

  She turned in his arms and faced the city. The sun had finally slipped behind the line of skyscrapers, standing tall like silhouetted sentries, guarding the city. “Oh, wow. The way the bright orange glows in the sky, it almost looks like the city’s on fire.”

  “It wouldn’t matter if I was suspended or active and between tours; a blaze that big and I’d be heading in for sure. Let’s be glad it’s just a sunset.”

  Olivia chuckled and relaxed against his chest.

  “I can’t believe I’ve never done this before. It’s so beautiful from out here,” she said with an appreciative sigh. “And there’s no such thing as ‘just a sunset.’ I’ll have you know, sunsets are near the very top of my Favorite Things Ever list.”

  “Oh yeah? Tell me how one goes about getting on that list,” he said, nuzzling her ear.

  “One doesn’t. I said favorite things, not people.”

  “You got a list for people, too?”

  He felt her smile when her cheek bunched up under his. “Doesn’t everyone?”

  God, this woman was killing him. “What if I campaign to get on your list of favorite people by introducing you to some new things that’ll make the top of that Favorite Things Ever list of yours?”

  “Hmm. It would certainly be a first, but I suppose it’s not entirely outside the realm of possibility. May I ask what sort of things you plan on introducing me to?”

  “You may,” he said, “but I don’t think I’ll answer.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I’d rather show you,” he said in a gravelly voice. He moved his hands to her belly, pulling her back against him even more. Pressing his hips forward, he nestled his cock in the center of her round ass. Her head dropped back to his shoulder, and he ducked his head to kiss and lick the side of her neck. “God, I can’t tell you how much I’ve been dying to taste you again. I told myself I was going to be a perfect gentleman today, but there’s something about you that makes me so damn crazy I can’t think straight.”

  “So let’s not think at all,” she whispered. “How much longer until we dock?”

  He stilled. “Livvie, what are you proposing? I need you to spell it out for me, because if you don’t, my libido will make its own assumptions. As hard up as I am to be with you—pun very intended, by the way—”

  She chuckled and he felt the vibrations flow from her back and into his chest. “Yes,” she said with a quick wiggle of her ass, “I can feel just how intended ‘your pun’ truly is.”

  He groaned softly. “You better stop teasing my pun with that sweet ass of yours, baby, or I’ll make sure it gets punished later.”

  “I apologize, Lieutenant.” Jesus H. Christ. Did she mean to say his rank all breathy and seductive like that? “Please continue.”

  He’d never had a thing for women calling him “sir” in the bedroom. Maybe it was because being an officer in the army desensitized him to the title. Maybe because he’d never labeled himself as a Dom. Hell, he still didn’t want to label anything. He’d had enough of that in the military. Erik knew what he liked when it came to sex, and he made a habit of doing what he liked. No rules, no protocols.

  But he’d be damned if his dick hadn’t twitched when she called him “Lieutenant” like her tongue was fucking her teeth on every syllable. Yeah, he could get used to hearing her say that real quick. As in, immediately. First, though, he had to make sure they were on the same page.

  “The last thing I want to do is misunderstand something and screw things up between us.”

  “Ah,” she said knowingly as she turned to face him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she molded the front of her body to his. “Then let me be crystal clear. I want you to drive me home, where I’ll invite you up to my apartment and introduce you to Ben and Jerrys.”

  “Got a thing for their ice cream, huh? That why you wanted to meet at the cart in the plaza earlier?”

  “Well, I figured if you stood me up, at the very least I could enjoy some ice cream.”

  “After everything you’ve put me through to get this date, nothing short of a nuclear disaster was stopping me from making it to the aquarium today. If anything, you were the one with a high risk of being a no-show. Then I would have had to buy out the entire ice-cream cart to drown my sorrows. See if that chick trick really works.”

  Olivia laughed. “I guess it’s a good thing I showed, then. It’d be a shame to ruin such a remarkable physique with so many empty calories.”

  “Remarkable physique, I like that. You’ve got a real way with words, Doc. You make me hot when you start speaking all formal like that,” he said with a wide smile.

  Chuckling, she said, “Can’t say I’ve heard that one before.”

  “And ain’t that a shame. Okay, so you mentioned introductions. Do you always introduce people to your cartons of Chunky Monkey and Cherry Garcia, or am I a special case?”

  She slapped him playfully on the shoulder. “Ben and Jerrys are my cats. If I don’t formally introduce them to my guests, they get cranky, and they’ll never leave us alone.”

  “And once they leave us alone, what’ll we be doing?”

  She smiled. “Well, I’m hoping you’ll use your imagination for the specifics,” she said, “but let’s just say that if I don’t end up with at least one less condom in my bedside drawer, I’m going to be very disappointed.”

  Erik turned, ready to drag her to his truck and call in a favor to a buddy on the BPD to make sure he wasn’t stopped for breaking every traffic law from Central Wharf to the Seaport District, when he realized where they were. Fuck. Catching the attention of a staff member, he asked how much longer until they docked.

  “About a half hour, sir.”

  “Thirty minutes?” he growled through clenched teeth. “Why the hell so long? The sun’s practically gone, show’s over, back to home base.”

  The kid’s eyes grew wide and his mouth gaped like a fish, uncertain how to answer. Erik wanted to bark at him, tell him to stand up straight and speak up like a man, but Olivia politely thanked Fishy and sent him on his way.

  The woman tried hiding her amusement as she wrapped her arms around his neck again, but he could see it in her eyes and where the very corners of her mouth curled up. “At ease, soldier. We’ll be back before you know it.” He was about to scold her for taking that CO tone with him, but then her fingers started running through his buzzed hair and massaging his head, and his train of thought derailed. Goddamn, that felt so fucking good.

  “Remind me never to take you anywhere that getting you naked and under me isn’t an option in ten minutes or less.”

  “Has anyone ever told you how cute you are when you’re grouchy?”

  “Actually, yeah.” He raised an eyebrow and narrowed his gaze a hair. “But you’d be th
e first one I put over my knees and spanked for it.”

  She feigned indignance with a sharp inhale. “Why am I the only one who gets punished?”

  “Because I don’t go anywhere near my mom’s ass,” he said with a lopsided grin and a wink. “Kind of a rule I have. But yours, on the other hand…” Erik reached down and squeezed big handfuls of each of her cheeks, pulling her into him and laughing as she squealed and squirmed.

  For the next endless thirty minutes, Olivia distracted him with kisses and touches that did nothing to dampen the fire between them but sure as hell sprayed it with a fire hose of fuel. Once they stepped foot on the mainland, he dragged Olivia behind him, and when she tried getting him to slow down, he swept her up in a fireman’s carry all the way to where he’d parked his truck. Luckily, she was laughing as much as complaining, so no one bothered trying to rescue her.

  Now all he had to do was get her back to her place before she changed her mind.

  …

  As soon as Olivia opened the door to her Waterside Place apartment, she scanned every visible surface to make sure she didn’t have anything embarrassing lying around. When she’d left earlier, the possibility that she’d invite Erik over never crossed her mind. Okay, maybe it’d crossed her mind, but not long enough for her to take herself seriously. Now here they were, and for all she knew, one of her bras could be hanging off a kitchen chair.

  Oblivious to their owner’s concerns, her cats emerged from her bedroom and jogged over to welcome her home. “There’s my boys,” she said to them as she bent to give each a few halfhearted strokes before their curiosity led them to the man at her side. Erik crouched down, stopping the long-haired feline in his tracks. “The orange and white scaredy-cat is Ben,” she said by way of introduction. “Any sudden movements make him freeze up or run away. Once he sees that you haven’t tortured his brother, he’ll warm up to you.”

  “Makes sense.” No sooner had Erik held his left hand out than Ben tiptoed his way over to it. “There, see? You’re not a scaredy-cat at all, are you, Ben? You’re cautious, which means you’re smart. And you must be Jerry,” he said to the short-haired tuxedo rubbing against his legs.

  “His name is actually Jerrys. With an ‘s.’” While her boys kept Erik busy, Olivia walked a quick lap around the main areas to make small adjustments she thought made a big difference: throw pillows straightened, forgotten slipper socks collected, and last night’s dishes into the dishwasher.

  Straightening, he crossed to where she stood at the breakfast bar that separated the kitchen from her living room. “Does he have multiple personalities?”

  She laughed and slid her hands up his chest and around his neck as he gathered her into his arms. “I named them after the heavenly ice cream, not the men who created it.”

  “Heavenly, huh? So what I’m hearing is that their ice cream is another thing at the top of your favorites list. That right?”

  Erik dipped his head and skimmed his lips up the side of her neck. Her eyes drifted shut on a sigh that turned to a gasp when he nipped the sensitive skin behind her ear. Did he end with a question? Was it her turn to say something? Before she had a chance to remember, he thrust his hands into her hair and seized her mouth with his.

  Holy shit, she couldn’t think. His lips and tongue shorted out her brain and hijacked her senses. All she could see, hear, smell, feel, and taste was him. Kissing Erik Grady was her new favorite thing in the entire world.

  Breaking apart to drag in deep lungfuls of air, she looked into his golden amber eyes and said, “Mission accomplished. You just made the number-one spot on the list.”

  A huge smile broke out on his face. “Happy to hear it, but you should probably break that list into a few sub-categories. I plan on making very specific things your new favorites.”

  “Sub-categories sound like a fantastic idea.”

  “Hell yeah, they do,” he rumbled, then leaned in to resume their kiss. But before he made contact, his phone rang in his back pocket, startling her into pulling back. Cursing an apology, he silenced the ringer and placed it back in his pocket. “Nervous, sweetheart?”

  Olivia lifted her chin a notch in defense. “I was the one who suggested you come over, remember?”

  “Of course I do.” Erik stepped into her space again, eclipsing the world around them. With her head tilted back to hold his steady gaze, she didn’t know he’d lifted his hand until she felt the backs of his knuckles graze over her pebbled nipple. She gasped, and her body jolted as though he were made of electricity. A smirk tilted his lips. “Doesn’t mean you’re not a little on edge.”

  “Smart-ass. Maybe I could use a glass of wine. Want one?”

  “Whiskey?”

  “Let me see what I can find.”

  She gestured for him to make himself at home and moved back into the kitchen to hunt down the appropriate glasses. It wasn’t often (okay, almost never) that she entertained guests and needed to use anything other than her casual ware. Grabbing a stemless wineglass and a highball tumbler from way in the back of a cabinet, she stole a brief glance in Erik’s direction.

  He’d settled onto her sectional sofa in front of the ten-foot windows that stretched from floor to ceiling. She wasn’t lucky enough to have one of the units with a balcony, but her view of the harbor and the eastern exposure was her favorite feature of the small apartment. It made the pricey rent of living in the Seaport District well worth it to her.

  “Is Johnnie Walker Black Label okay?” she asked, unsure. “I have a bottle my brother gave me. It was from two Christmases ago, but whiskey is supposed to get better with age, right?”

  “If you don’t drink it, why did he give it to you?”

  “Because Robert has mastered the art of giving that’s actually receiving. It’s what he drinks, which works out well for him when he comes to visit.” She smiled as she poured their drinks, remembering her brother’s feigned look of shock when she called him out on it. Then the jokester had redeemed himself by giving her her real present.

  “Is this him?”

  Olivia picked up the glasses and started to bring them to him in the living room, but then froze midstep and she felt her smile falter. There were several pictures of Robert around her apartment, on the walls and on shelves, but the 5x7 frame Erik held from where he’d gotten it on the end table wasn’t of her and her brother.

  It was of her and her husband.

  Brett’s arms were wrapped around her from behind, their figures bulky in winter jackets, scarves, and knit caps that covered their heads. It’d been shot at the end of a snowball fight during Christmas break their last year in college. With bright eyes, red cheeks, and white puffs of laughter, the image perfectly captured their happiness—back when things, including their relationship, had been easier—frozen in time.

  Jesus, how could she have been so stupid? Bringing a man back to the apartment that still looked as though Brett might walk through the door at any minute. She’d never even gotten rid of the navy blue papasan chair he’d had during college. The one that he always sat in and pulled her down to his lap so she could snuggle with him while he studied. The one that she cried in for weeks after he was gone, that could still be found in the corner of her bedroom and was now used by Ben and Jerrys as their preferred cat bed.

  Bringing Erik here was a mistake. How could she expect to move on in a place where she’d stopped the hands of time? She needed to get both aspects of her life—the emotional and physical—on the same damn page before any of this could happen here. Shit, shit, shit.

  Maybe they could finish their drinks and she could beg off with a headache or something. Yeah, that was a great fricking plan. Cliché much, Olivia? She’d have to make it up as they went.

  Pasting what she hoped appeared as a carefree expression on her face, Olivia walked over and handed Erik his whiskey. She lowered herself to the other corner of the couch and tucked her bare feet under her, then finally answered his question. “No, Robbie’s the one with me over t
here next to the windows.”

  Erik followed her line of sight to the hanging frame and got a laugh out of it just like everyone else did. She and her brother were often mistaken for twins, they looked so much alike, but their personalities were almost complete opposites, and their outfits in that picture aptly portrayed that fact. Olivia wore a simple sundress with a lightweight sweater and a sweet smile, while Robbie’s mischievous grin matched his faded black T-shirt that stated “I’m with Stupid” above an arrow pointing straight down to his crotch.

  “I bet he’s a riot at holiday gatherings.”

  “That’s putting it mildly. I don’t think he was born with a serious bone in his body, but for as big as his sense of humor is, his heart is even bigger. He’s a great older brother.”

  “Doesn’t surprise me that you have a wonderful family, considering how amazing I think you are.” He stretched his arm out along the back of the couch and linked his fingers with hers. It scared her how much she craved his touch after not having it for only five minutes. After taking a sip of his drink, he nodded at the picture he’d replaced on the end table. “So who’s that?”

  Her stomach tightened into a knot and she eagerly lifted her wineglass and took several large swallows to stall for time. Though what good that would do, she had no idea. A distraction, that’s what she needed. It was what they both needed; screw the headache idea. A distraction with no thoughts of the past. Only the here and now. Erik and her.

  Rising, Olivia finished her drink and set the glass off to the side. Holding his gaze, she straddled his lap and fitted their bodies together. Whiskey all but forgotten on the end table, his large hands slid over her hips and around to squeeze her ass cheeks as he pulled her in to notch his hardness against her sex.

  She leaned in to kiss him, but his head backed away at the last second. Golden eyes studied her for what seemed like forever, causing the knot in her belly to twist. “Why do I get the feeling you’re avoiding my question?”