by Multi-Author
Large soapy hands reached around her and cupped her breasts. She barely bit back a moan of pleasure. “I thought we’d just done that,” she teased even as she pushed against his palms.
“No reason we can’t do it again.” His sensual whisper against her ear had goose bumps running down her back.
She started to turn but he kept his arms locked around her, not allowing her move. “No, this way.” She shivered again at the sexual demand in his voice. Even though cool water was washing over her, she was growing hotter by the second.
Not to be denied, she reached around and wrapped her fingers around his shaft. It was already firm and full again. Frank had always had a huge sex drive. That hadn’t changed.
Which brought to mind a picture of other women. She pushed aside the unpleasant thought. They’d both been in other relationships. It had been almost twenty years since they’d been together.
“What is it?” He circled his palms over her breasts before teasing the taut nipples with his thumbs.
“Nothing.” She refused to ruin this special time. Who knew how long it would last?
Frank sighed and turned her so she was facing him. The water beat at her back. His hair was slicked back from his face making his features appear harsher than usual. His chin was rock hard, his cheekbones high and his blue eyes dark with lust.
Beads of water rolled down his chest and his cock pressed against her belly. She took his shaft in her hand once again and pumped up and down. He closed his eyes and swallowed hard.
“My turn,” she told him. She licked at the water surrounding one flat nipple and was rewarded with a groan. Emboldened, she kissed a path down his torso and over his washboard abs. The man was built like a god.
His fingers gripped her hair as she went lower. She knelt at his feet, the water showering over her. “Martha.” She peered up when he said her name. She’d never heard such raw need in all her life.
“You don’t have to,” he told her.
“I know.” She slid her hand from base to tip. “I want to.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Martha stared at his shaft. It was like the rest of him—big and strong. It was engorged and pulsed in her hand. The head was broad and darker then the rest of his cock. She lowered her mouth to the plum-shaped tip. He moaned when she dragged her tongue over it, so she did it again.
His fingers slipped from her hair and he slapped his hands against the tiles on either side of the shower enclosure.
Martha slid her tongue around the head twice more before taking it into her mouth. It had been a long time since she’d done this for a man. She’d forgotten how arousing it could be to make a strong man weak with need.
She pumped her hand up and down his shaft while she sucked on the tip, taking him deeper into her mouth. Her body responded to his growing arousal. Her nipples ached and she knew it wasn’t just the water from the shower making her slick between her thighs.
“Martha.” He eased away and pulled her to her feet. She started to complain, as she wasn’t anywhere near done with him yet, but the expression in his eyes stopped her. This was a man on the edge.
He spun her around and she automatically slapped her palms against the slick tiles. Frank pulled her lower body away from the wall and she bent forward. She sucked in a breath when he pushed his cock into her in one quick stroke. It stole her breath. He was hot and hard and her pussy rippled around his shaft as it accommodated him.
His big body surrounded her smaller one, protective and dominating at the same time. Then he laid his hands over hers and began to flex his hips. He withdrew almost all the way before pushing back in. He did that again and again. She found the rhythm and met him stroke for stroke.
A familiar heat built inside her and she knew she was close to coming again. The slap of their wet skin sounded loud in her ears. Her moans mingled with his grunts as they spiraled higher and higher.
“Frank.” She was so close.
He swore, reached one hand between her legs and found her clit. He rubbed the slick bundle of nerves once and she exploded. He stiffened behind her and then he was pumping hard and fast, spilling himself into her.
Martha thought she saw steaming rising from the water there was so much heat between them. She fell against the tile and would have slid to the floor if Frank hadn’t been holding her up. She sucked in a deep breath, trying to calm her racing heart.
The water began to cool and she shivered. Frank eased away from her, picked up the washcloth and began to wash her. And she let him. She was still feeling slightly shaky after having two orgasms so close together.
When he was finished washing away the remnants of their lovemaking, he gave himself a quick wash and then turned off the now frigid water. They toweled off, and when they were done, he plucked her off her feet and carried her back to bed.
“Frank.” They really needed to talk.
“Not yet.” He tumbled them onto the bed and yanked the top sheet over them. He curled around her from behind and held her close.
Martha wanted, no needed, this closeness as much as he did. “Not yet,” she agreed. But soon. Soon they would have to talk.
* * *
Frank didn’t know how long he’d slept when his eyes suddenly snapped open. Fire. He sensed it before he heard the familiar crackle.
“Get up.” He shook Martha as he rolled out of bed. The sun was no longer shining in through the window. Flames danced outside the glass, blocking that exit of escape.
Martha’s eyelids fluttered and opened. “What? What’s wrong?”
“Fire.” Frank yanked on his jeans and pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Get dressed. Now.”
Martha sprang from the bed and pulled her dress over her head while he dialed 911 and gave them his address. He shoved his phone back into his pocket and grabbed her hand. “Stay close.”
She nodded and followed him from the bedroom. The living room was on fire so he pulled her into the guest room. They could go out through the window there.
He pulled up short when he saw the fire outside that window as well. The son of a bitch had found her. Smoke filled the air and Martha began to cough. He wrapped his arm around her. “Everything will be okay,” he promised her.
She shook her head. Her eyes were red and tears seeped from the corners. “We’re not going to make it.”
“Yes, we are.” He didn’t care what he had to do in order to save her. He started toward the living room but she let go of his hand. He whirled around and found her backing away.
“We can’t go through that,” she yelled. She glanced back at the bedroom. “What about the window.”
“Trust me.” It all came down to this. If he had to, he’d pick her up and carry her. “Honey, we don’t have much time. I love you,” he told her. “I never stopped.”
Her eyes widened, she licked her lips and took his hand. He grabbed it and brought it to the waistband of his jeans. “Follow me and don’t let go. Promise me.”
She nodded again. Frank wished she’d say something in response to his declaration but there would be enough time to worry about his confession when they were safe.
Frank concentrated on the fire, getting a feel for it. The windows weren’t safe. The fires had been started there first. In spite of appearances, the blaze in the living room hadn’t quite taken hold yet.
He’d kept his secret all his life. Hell, he’d even left Martha because of it. Now he was going to expose himself totally to her. He only hoped like hell that when this was over she didn’t view him as a freak, or worse a monster.
He held up his hands and called to the fire. Flames ignited on his fingertips. It was always this way when he was near a blaze. Usually, his gear was a barrier that helped him keep control. But he was too close now and fire was in his blood.
Her fingers tightened on his waistband and he heard her cry out. He couldn’t think about her reaction, not now. He needed to focus to control the beas
t inside him, otherwise he’d burst into flames and join the inferno.
Frank dug deep inside himself, pushing into a place he’d always been too afraid to explore. The flames were alive within him. He accepted them even as he implored them to help him control the outward blaze.
Martha climbed up his back, wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face against his shoulder. He realized she was barefoot and in danger of being burnt as the fire crept closer.
Rage poured through him, but more than that a sense of determination. He would save her from his burning house and from himself.
Something inside him seemed to click into place. Suddenly, he felt stronger, more sure than he’d been in his entire life. For once he didn’t fight his nature, but embraced every part of himself.
He walked confidently toward the door, knowing the flames would part for him. The fire sang to him, wanting him to join it, but he wouldn’t be swayed. Instead, he used his newfound power to tamp it down. It grew smaller and even started to die out in places.
The door handle was blazing hot but Frank reached for it, not surprised when it felt cool to his touch. He not only controlled fire. He was fire. It could not harm him and he would not allow it to hurt Martha.
Cool air hit him square in the face as he left the house and hurried down the steps to the lawn. Behind him, the fire, now unchecked, jumped to life once again. Frank didn’t care what happened to his home. The only thing he cared about right now was Martha’s safety. He lowered his hands and reached around to grab her off his back. “Are you all right?”
She was disheveled, her clothing and skin covered in soot. There were several red marks on her bare arms and legs but nothing serious. Her eyes were wide and filled with horror.
Frank felt his heart crack and took a step back. She shook her head, lunged for him and shoved him aside.
Acting on instinct, he grabbed her hand and yanked her down with him. A stream of flames shot past the place they’d been standing. Frank rolled and pushed Martha beneath him, using his body to protect her.
The man wore a mask and gloves and held a flamethrower. “She has to die,” the assailant yelled. He jerked the flamethrower around, aiming it straight at them. Frank surged to his feet and held his hands out in front of him. The fire hit his palms and raced up his arms. He accepted it, even welcomed it.
Martha screamed. There was no hiding what he was and what he could do any longer, no chance of a logical explanation. Frank knew this might even mean the end of his life if others discovered just how different he truly was. He swallowed hard and did what he had to do.
He grabbed hold of the fire and tamed it to his will. It clung to his skin, lovingly wrapping around it in a gentle hug. Frank accepted the flames then he began to whip his arms in a circle. The flames spun around and he sent them spiraling back at the arsonist. The man screamed as the material of his shirt caught and began to burn. He dropped the flamethrower and fell to the ground, rolling to extinguish the flames.
Sirens filled the air. Frank ignored the man on the ground and turned back to Martha. He knelt next to her and checked her arms and legs for damage but avoided looking at her face. He was afraid of what he might see there.
The first engine rolled up and men jumped off and began to run hoses. “Careful,” Frank warned them and pointed to the man on the ground. “He set the fire.”
The Chief hurried up to them even as another crew raced toward the arsonist. “God damn, Ellis. You okay?”
Frank nodded and kept checking Martha’s body. Her bare legs had several minor burns but nothing serious. She was lucky not to have been hurt worse. He, on the other hand, could walk through fire and come out unscathed, but she held his heart. He could only pray she didn’t break it.
“Ma’am, you okay?” the chief asked her.
Finally, Frank made himself look at Martha. Her eyes were wide and red-rimmed, her expression one of concern, for him. It occurred to him that she’d saved his life. She hadn’t realized the fire wouldn’t harm him and had acted on instinct to protect him.
He swallowed hard and opened his arms. She threw herself into them and held on tight. Frank wrapped his arms around her, never wanting to let her go.
“You’re safe. You’re safe,” she muttered over and over.
“You need to move back.” The chief motioned to them and Frank stood, picked Martha up and carried her toward the ambulance that was rolling in.
A SUV pulled up just as Frank reached the ambulance and Burke and Devlin jumped out. “You okay?” Burke asked.
Frank nodded and jerked his head toward the paramedics who were hurrying toward the burned man. “That’s your arsonist. One of the guys probably has his flamethrower.”
“Jesus.” Devlin shook his head as he looked at the burning house. “You sure you two are okay?”
“Yeah.” He was okay but was she? He sat on the end of the open ambulance with Martha on his lap. “You okay, honey?” She nodded, her face still buried against his chest.
One of the paramedics came up to them. “Ma’am, I need to check you out.”
She shook her head but Frank needed to be certain she wasn’t hurt. “Please, honey. This is your second fire in three days.”
Martha slowly raised her head but when she tried to speak she started to cough. The paramedic had her on oxygen in no time. “We really need to take her in and have her checked out,” the man told Frank.
“We’ll go.” He glanced at the stretcher with the arsonist. “But not with him.” He stepped aside and let them put the man on board.
Devlin strode up beside him. “I’m going to follow them to the hospital. Detective Raymond is going to meet us there. Burke is going to stay on scene. You want a lift?”
Martha removed the oxygen mask and handed it back to the paramedic. “Yes,” she told Devlin. Her voice was hoarse but she was alive and the threat to her life was finally gone.
Ironically, it was Frank’s life that was threatened now. What would Martha do once she’d had time to really process things? She was in shock now and grateful to be alive. But what would happen once she realized she was safe, once she understood exactly what it was she’d seen? Would she tell the others?
Frank had no idea.
He carried Martha to Devlin’s vehicle and climbed into the backseat with her in his arms. He didn’t want to let her go but forced himself to set her beside him and made sure her seatbelt was secure before he did his own.
Devlin pulled away from the scene and Frank didn’t even look back at his house. It was gone. There would be nothing left to salvage.
Martha’s hand covered his and everything inside him settled and calmed. She was okay. Nothing else mattered. He turned his hand and joined their fingers together as they rode to the hospital in silence.
Chapter Seven
Martha chewed on her bottom lip. She was getting more and more concerned about Frank with each passing moment. He’d hardly said two words since they’d arrived at the hospital.
She was still reeling from everything that had happened. The arsonist had attacked again, Frank’s house was gone and she’d seen Frank handle fire without getting burned. He’d actually seemed to chain it and had thrown it back at their attacker. If anyone else had told her they’d seen someone manipulate fire, she would have thought they’d lost their mind or maybe hallucinated because of the stress.
She wasn’t sure what to think.
Once again, she found herself lying in a hospital bed. There were several burns on her legs and one on her arm but that was minor considering what she’d been through. The past few hours were a blur of questions from various doctors and nurses, followed by a variety of tests and procedures. The doctors were worried about her lungs and wanted to keep a close eye on things. She hadn’t breathed in too much smoke this time, but they weren’t taking any chances.
She wished Frank would look at her. He’d been beside her while she was being treated in the em
ergency room and was still watching over her now that she was in her hospital room, even though the danger was gone. He sat on the chair beside her bed, his gaze fixed on the door. He was looking everywhere but at her.
“Frank.” He flinched slightly when she said his name. He lifted his head so he was staring right at her. There was such anguish in his gaze that she instinctually reached out to him. He took her hand in his and some of the tension in him lessened.
She didn’t want to make things worse but she had to know what had happened back at his place before the authorities arrived. She’d seen it with her own two eyes and still wasn’t exactly sure what it was she’d witnessed. Frank had grabbed the fire with his two hands. Yet he had no burns. Not even a red mark. She’d also watched him throw the flames back at their attacker. Who could throw fire?
He’d also parted the flames once again, like he had during his original rescue of her. She hadn’t hallucinated that. It wasn’t some smoke-induced vision. It was real.
She had so many questions but wasn’t sure where to begin.
There was a brief knock on the door before it was pushed open. Frank stood, every muscle in his body tensing. He didn’t relax when Devlin and Burke strode in, followed closely by Detective Raymond and his partner.
“Martha.” Devlin nodded at her and then at Frank.
“That’s two rescues in two days. Quite impressive, Ellis.” Detective Raymond’s attitude hadn’t improved even though they’d caught the perpetrator.
Burke rolled his eyes and shouldered the older man out of the way. “How are you feeling, Martha?”
“Like someone who’s been in a fire. No, wait. Make that two.” Burke grinned at her quip, but Frank scowled. “I’d offer you all a seat but there’s not enough of them to go around.”
“What can you tell us?” Frank asked, not bothering with any attempt at sociability.
“Alan Edgeworth. Does the name ring a bell?” Burke asked her.
She shook her head. “I don’t recognize it.”
