“Erik.” She pushed back on his head to get him to look up at her, which he allowed and found himself staring into hazel eyes that had the power to condemn or exonerate. “You didn’t hurt me.”
“But—”
“No,” she said firmly. “You did not hurt me. I would have told you if you were. I get bruises all the time. Look at me, I’m like Casper the Friendly Ghost. You can’t be worried about leaving your marks on me or this relationship is going to have a very boring sex life.”
He searched her face for signs that she wasn’t as okay as she claimed, but all he saw was sincerity. She’s okay. She’s fine. The knot of dread unfurled in his chest, allowing the last part of what she said to finally sink in. A slow smile spread over his face. “Are you conceding that we’re in a relationship? Not that I’m giving you a choice, understand. I just want to hear you agree.”
“I don’t know,” she said with a half grin. “I guess I’ll consid—” Erik delivered a quick smack to her backside, making her draw in a sharp breath before chuckling. “Yes, Lieutenant Wolf, I concede. I’m agreeing to a relationship.”
“’Bout damn time you got on board, woman,” he growled. He kissed her just above the belly button to punctuate his approval, then shifted to place a gentle trail of healing kisses along each of her bruises.
Olivia’s fingers were back on his scalp, causing tingles to run down his spine. He was so lost in the moment he almost didn’t hear her speak. “Does it make me kind of weird that I like having them?”
She was referring to the purpling marks on her skin. Ones that would be tender and sore and remind her of him every time she felt them. With his hands at her hips and his thumbs softly grazing the bruises in question, he told her the absolute truth. “It makes you kind of perfect.”
Blushing, she bit down on the corner of her lip. A sight that made him greedy and selfish, wanting it for himself, so he rocked up to his full height, framed her face with his hands, and took. Took her kiss, her mouth with its swollen lips, red as cherries and her tongue that still tasted of the Jameson he’d noticed she had earlier.
He felt like an addict. He’d had her mere minutes ago and already he craved her taste on his tongue and harbored a soul-deep need to watch her fall apart in his arms again. But another part of him—a part he hadn’t known existed until Olivia—wanted to care for her, protect her. Even if that meant protecting her from his own insatiable appetite.
Using the last remnants of his control, Erik broke away. “Come on, sweetheart. We’ve got about ten minutes before the pizza I ordered on my way over gets here. I need you cleaned up and dressed because if the delivery guy catches even a glimpse of what’s mine, I’m guaranteed to lose my shit.”
Laughing, she let him lead her into the stall and under the spray, and even with as much as his dick protested, Erik managed to keep the shower quick and PG-13. Later, though, after they’d eaten and relaxed a little, he’d make sure they worked off the carbs and alcohol with a marathon bedroom session for the books.
He’d have to stop for a sixer of Red Bull and a bottle of Advil on his way in to training tomorrow morning, but he had no doubt in his mind it would be totally fucking worth it.
Chapter Twelve
“Come on, Wolf, get it up here. Being away from the house turning you into a pussy or what?”
Air hissed out between Erik’s teeth as he glared up at a shirtless Smoke—a rare occurrence due to the cosmetic damage his body suffered from an explosion downrange—and pushed the free bar the last few inches before racking the weight. Breathing heavy as a motherfucker, Erik crunched up into a sitting position on the black padded bench that sported several manly patch jobs with silver duct tape.
Smoke ran a hand through his sweat-dampened blond hair and scoffed. “My fucking grandmother benches more than that. You’re getting soft, old man.”
Erik grabbed the small towel by his feet and wiped the sweat dripping down his face as he turned to his overly critical spotter. Smoke, wearing white basketball shorts and his trademark shit-eating grin, was now hunched over with elbows out and forearms stretched along the racked bar, casual as could be.
“Not what your grandma says, brother.” Pushing up to his feet, Erik said, “And her strength comes from handling my giant fucking cock all day.”
Shouts and laughter erupted in the firehouse gym as the guys rated the “burn” handed to the golden boy. With a final swipe down his chest, Erik winked and tossed the sweaty towel on Smoke before smacking him upside the head.
Chuckling, Erik turned and ignored the scuffling sounds that told him “the kids” were probably roughhousing behind him, and made his way over to the pull-up bars. Dozer joined him, having just finished an eternity with the jump rope. For as huge as the man was, when he worked with the rope, he was extremely nimble and light on his feet. Training as an amateur boxer for years did that.
They chalked up their hands in silence and jumped to grip the adjacent metal bars, immediately starting a set of nonstop butterfly pull-ups. At the end of the set, they dropped to their feet and then their asses to do the abs routine they used to do in the army.
Hands behind his head, Erik continued his sit-ups as he spoke. “Ask.”
Dozer didn’t break his stride, either. “Ask what?”
“You know what, so ask.”
“Fine. You getting serious with this chick?”
“First of all, she’s a woman, a lady, and you’ll respect her as such, whether she’s around or not.”
Dozer chuckled under his breath. “No need for a ‘second of all,’ Grady. You just answered my question.”
“Very funny, wiseass. It’s too new to be considered serious,” Erik said. “But it’s a lot more serious than any of the one-nighters we’ve been having for the last however many years.”
“Hey, just because you got attached to someone doesn’t mean you can knock the crazy-hot sex that’s been keeping our dicks wet with no strings for years. Some things are sacred, brother.”
Erik chuckled, but then sobered as he asked, “Don’t you ever get sick of it, though, man? Wouldn’t you like to know you have someone who cares about you; someone to come home to at the end of a long tour? Because I gotta tell ya, this thing with Livvie might be new, but she fills this part of me I didn’t even know was empty until I met her. Being with her makes me…”
“Horny?” he supplied with a smirk.
“Happy, dumbass,” Erik said, unable to hide the smile his friend’s ribbing brought out. Erik knew all too well what it was like to lose his friends, and he was constantly aware that any one of them could be taken from him on any given day with their jobs. He appreciated every minute he had with them, even when they acted like cranky two-year-olds or like pre-pubescent boys. “She makes me happy, D. I know it’s still early, but I’m fucking crazy about her.”
“If that’s the case, then I’m happy for you, man.” The humor slipped from Dozer’s face as he stared at Erik, the strength of their bond—forged in the fire of more life-or-death situations than they could count—pierced through all the bullshit jokes. “If she turns out to be the one, she’ll always be treated as one of our own.”
A thick lump formed in Erik’s throat. That wasn’t a simple statement from one friend to another promising to be nice to his new girlfriend. No, that was a vow from one brother to another that if anything happened to Erik in the line of duty, his brothers would take care of the woman he left behind. Erik didn’t know if this thing between him and Livvie had what it took to go the distance, but he did know that he was already in deep. She was special, and if it were up to him, he’d spend every moment of every day with her.
A flash of guilt speared through him at the thought of him dying on the job and leaving her to pick up the pieces—just like she’d had to do with her husband—but it was the reality of his position and all he could do was be as safe as possible to make sure he came home every time. But in the event something happened, knowing his brothers would alw
ays be there for her eased some of the tension in his chest.
You’re getting ahead of yourself, Grady. Rein it the fuck in.
Swallowing to banish the lump in his throat, Erik held his hand out for Dozer to grasp in a symbol of solidarity. One quick squeeze conveyed the myriad emotions of both men, and then it was over.
Needing to get back to their normal footing, Erik challenged D to a timed set of pull ups when a few appreciative whistles drew their attention to the gym entrance. Smoke stood in a wide stance, the muscles in his back rippling with tension. He blocked most of Erik’s view, but the gender of their guests was obvious from the reactions of the men.
“Sorry, sweet cheeks,” Smoke said with an exaggerated southern drawl tinged in acid. “Rules say no chicks allowed in the cock-house. But my tour ends at six. I’d be happy to meet you at your place and give you a ride on my private rig.”
“As inviting as that sounds, I think I’ll stick with the cock I’m already seeing, but thanks anyway.”
Erik got to his feet and grinned as shit flipped around in his gut at hearing Olivia’s voice. He’d almost laughed at her candid response to Smoke’s attempt at crude-and-rude, but hearing her publicly claim Erik or his cock (he wasn’t particularly picky at the moment) made his chest swell with pride and a sense of rightness.
“Suit yourself,” Smoke said, shrugging. “How ’bout you, baby? You’re muy caliente and lucky for you, I happen to like playing with fire.”
“Ooh, sorry, mijo, this chick is strictly free-range. But I’ll be sure to let you know the moment that changes.”
At the sound of the second female’s voice—one that Erik recognized as Olivia’s feisty Latina friend, Angie—Dozer’s head snapped up, and the color drained from his face like he’d seen a ghost. Erik was about to ask him what was up, but then Smoke continued talking to the women, and the acrimonious tone in his voice snagged Erik’s attention.
“Sure you will, honey. Nice try, but I own a fucking mirror.” Crossing his arms over his chest, Smoke delivered a warning. “I don’t know who you’re here to see, but you’ll have to wait till he’s off duty. No civilians allowed, so kindly get the fuck out.”
Erik’s vision was bathed in red. “Smoke,” Erik bellowed, the echo bouncing off the walls of the sparse room. Ashton’s head snapped to the side and watched with wary curiosity as Erik’s strides ate up the distance between them.
Seconds before Erik reached him, Bowie and Preacher blocked Erik’s path, stepping in before shit hit the fan. It still might, if Erik had his way. The cocksucker needed to be taught some fucking manners.
“Whoa, there, Wolf,” Preacher said in his soothing let’s-not-do-anything-rash voice. “You’re already not supposed to be in here until you’re released to come back to work. You start any shit and things’ll get even uglier for you, and none of us want that.”
Fucking Preacher. Sometimes Erik hated how much sense he made.
Erik jabbed a finger in Smoke’s direction between the shoulders of his team members. “Watch your goddamn mouth, soldier. Or I’ll be watching it spit out your bloody teeth after my fist goes through it.”
“Erik,” Olivia said, maneuvering herself in front of him and closing her hand over his to pull it into her chest. “It’s okay, it’s not a big deal.”
He continued to glare at Smoke. “When one of my brothers disrespects my woman, it’s a huge fucking deal.”
Smoke’s blue eyes pinged back and forth from him to Olivia and back. That the man had the decency to look ashamed for the way he acted went a long way to quiet the storm raging in Erik. “Fuck, Wolf, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t know, I swear.”
Smoke tried to advance between Bowie and Preacher, but they held their positions until Erik gave them a slight nod, letting them know he had his shit under control.
Smoke moved in close and spoke low so the women wouldn’t hear. “I wasn’t thinking, man. When they walked in, I was right there, and I just reacted. But that’s no excuse. I’ll make it up to you—both of you—I promise.”
Pulling back to level his sincere gaze at Erik, Smoke waited for his CO and friend to damn him or absolve him. But Erik would have to be a grade-A asshole to come down too hard on Smoke for going on the defensive after the women saw him with so much of his body exposed.
In the army, Smoke had been Erik’s artillery platoon sergeant on his last tour. Smoke had the mother of all artillery collections and frequented the shooting range almost as often as he was at the firehouse. The guy was a weapons expert, with a rep for loving anything that went boom and left a cloud of smoke behind, hence his call sign.
But irony was just as big of a bitch as karma sometimes, and she’d done one hell of a number on Smoke. He’d gotten caught by an IED that lit up the whole left side of his body from shoulder to ankle. Angry, puckered scars blanketed half of his body and he had plenty of raised scars in other areas where shrapnel had torn through him. Thankfully, after all the surgeries and healing was complete, the only residual damage had been cosmetic. But it was that damage that caused the man’s insecurities about anyone, other than the men and women he worked with, seeing him without his scars covered.
The man with the golden boy looks, who once had more confidence than all of Hollywood’s A-list actors combined, had become something he considered the equivalent of a hideous beast in a children’s story.
And it was all Erik’s doing.
There wasn’t a day that went by that Erik saw Smoke and didn’t feel guilt for what he’d caused. His only consolation was that Smoke hadn’t been killed in the blast that took two of their brothers that day. Having their blood on his hands sometimes felt like he’d been buried alive with six feet of earth slowly suffocating him…
“Erik,” Olivia whispered in his ear. “Come on back to me, baby.”
…And he did. Thank God for Livvie. Whenever she saw him start to slide, she used her touch and her words to instantly draw him back to her. The wave of relief that washed over him every time she did was indescribable. Squeezing her hand to let her know he was okay, Erik gave his friend a reassuring nod then jerked his head toward the locker room. “Hit the showers,” Erik rasped through a tight throat.
Smoke acknowledged the order, which they both knew wasn’t an order at all but a way to give the man an easy way to excuse himself. He offered a quick apology to both women and then stalked off in the opposite direction with Bowie, Preacher, and a few of the men from Engine 42 following him in.
“Sorry, ladies,” Erik offered as he pressed one of Olivia’s hands between both of his and brought it up to place a kiss on her palm.
Olivia’s brows drew together. “I wish you wouldn’t have been so hard on him, Erik.”
Erik pushed out a heavy exhale and rubbed the back of his neck. “I know, I’ll talk to him. He’s not normally an asshole, but he’s…sensitive about his scars.”
“Who, that hottie? The one with the Brad Pitt, Ivy League good looks?” Angie asked with incredulity, pointing to where Smoke had disappeared into the locker room.
Chuckling, Erik said, “I can’t wait to tell him you called him Brad Pitt. That should bring his ego back to its usual over-inflated state in no time.”
“I suppose I should make the official introductions,” Olivia said. “Erik, I’d like you to meet my friend—who you’ve already spoken with on the phone—Angie. Angie this is my…um…Erik.”
Erik laughed as the color crept into Livvie’s cheeks. “I like the sound of that,” he said to her with a wink, then smiled at Angie, extending a hand. “Nice to finally meet you in person, Angie. I appreciate all the nudges you gave Livvie in my direction.”
The petite Latina was beautiful and had killer curves, reminding him of a young Salma Hayek, and a playful personality to rival Smoke’s on his best day with a side of spitfire. Grasping his hand firmly, Angie arched a brow and tipped the corner of her mouth up in a saucy grin. “Maybe someday I’ll let you show your appreciation by hooking me up
with one of your hottie firefighter buddies.”
Erik chuckled. “Will do. Actually, that reminds me.” Turning back to the gym, he scanned the room for his friend—who Erik just realized had been suspiciously MIA when the shit went down with Smoke—and found Dozer in the back, talking with a few of the guys from 42. “Hey, D! Come here, man.”
Dozer met his gaze and gave him a nod that said he’d be over in a second. In the meantime…
Erik grabbed Livvie’s hips and pulled her in close enough for a proper hello without transferring his sweat to her expensive work clothes. Her hands came up to frame his face as her smiling mouth melded to his in a kiss that was over way too quickly. Whipping his libido into a temporary submission, he asked, “Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of this impromptu visit?”
Olivia’s hazel eyes lit up. “Angie and I were at lunch and concocted plans to have a Fourth of July barbecue at my parents’ place in Cambridge. They’ll still be traveling, but it’s a great place to host a small gathering of friends, away from the craziness of the city. I’ll invite a few of my friends—” Angie interrupted with a cough. “Okay, fine, coworkers—whatever—and of course your team and anyone else you want. What do you say?”
“I say, as long as I get to be in charge of the grill, I’m in.”
“That’d be a mistake,” Dozer said, stopping next to Erik. “You can’t grill for shit.”
“Says the man who likes his meat so rare it’s still fucking kicking.”
Arms crossed, Dozer shrugged a shoulder and said, “I like what I like,” as he brazenly locked eyes with Angie a lot longer than what was polite.
Erik thought for sure she’d respond with something flirtatious or maybe some sass to put the big man in his place. What he didn’t expect was to see the same stricken expression on her face that Dozer had when he’d heard her voice earlier. They knew each other, and from the looks of things, this might not be a happy reunion.
Glancing over at his right-hand man, D appeared stoic and unflappable. But Erik knew better. He saw the tension in the man’s shoulders, the rapid pulse fluttering in his thick neck, and the way his feet were braced like he was expecting a physical blow. Or maybe an emotional one.
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