Dallas Fire & Rescue: Lighting His Fire (Kindle Worlds Novella) (MacKay Destiny Book 5)

by L. J. Garland

  He nipped her earlobe. “So beautiful.”

  “Please, Carter.” She shifted her hips, rubbing her sex against him, making him impossibly harder.

  Aligning with her entrance, he took her in a single smooth stroke.

  “Yes.” She drew her knees up, her silky calves rubbing along his thighs.

  Carter lifted one leg, draping it over his shoulder, opening her wider for him. Hot. Wet. He buried himself deep inside her. Perfect.

  She looked up at him, her blue eyes glazed with sex. Her walls tightened around him, gloving his shaft.

  He groaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  A throaty laugh grazed his ears. “You like it.”

  “I do.” He raised his hips, pulling almost all the way out then shoved home again, her breasts jiggling enticingly as their bodies fit together.

  Damn! Who’s driving who crazy here? He eased away from her—and, damn, leaving her heat almost killed him. “Roll over, on your hands and knees.”

  She did, and he moved behind her, sliding his palms over her heart-shaped ass then between her thighs to widen her stance. He slid home, filling her until his pelvis hit her sweet round globes. Damn. She’ll be the death of me. He started pumping. In and out, in and out. Her silk sliding over his steel.

  She peered over her shoulder at him, those blue eyes of hers sending a jolt of lust bolting along his nerves. His balls tightened, preparing for release as he careened toward the edge. Tearing his gaze from her, Carter ground his teeth, started counting to one hundred by threes. Anything to keep from coming.

  When he’d regained control, he met her gaze again. “Brigit.”

  “Carter.”

  Yeah, she knew what she’d almost done. He slapped the flat of his palm on her ass. She jolted, and heat flared in her icy blues. The tip of her pink tongue darted out, swiping over her bottom lip. She wanted more.

  He slid his hand up her spine, twisted her hair around his fingers, and tugged her upright onto her knees. Wrapping his other arm around her waist, he held her flush against him, her back to his chest. He moved, and she moaned. Oh yeah, perfect angle to hit her secret spot.

  “My naughty helo pilot.” He nipped her earlobe then dragged his teeth along the side of her neck, setting his teeth at the curve of her shoulder and biting down, taking care not to break the skin.

  She shivered, pressing her ass back against him. “Yes. Yours.”

  Yours? His mind stuttered to a stop, but his body didn’t. Couldn’t. He thrust into her, loving the way her body responded to him. He thrust harder, deeper. She moved with him, taking everything he gave. Releasing her hair, he moved his hand to cup her breast, flicking the tight point. Her head lolled back against him, dark strands draping over his shoulder. The flowery scent of her shampoo filled his nostrils. He held her in his arms, driving into her wet heat, possessing her in the most fundamental way, and she molded against him, their connection going deeper than skin-to-skin, deeper than sex. He thrust into her over and over. Deeper and deeper. Sweat coated his body, coated hers, too, as they slid and ground into one another.

  He pinched her nipple. She moaned. He rolled the tight tip between his fingers and tugged hard. She gasped.

  Brigit reached up, wreathed her arm around his neck, and drew him down for a kiss. His lips caressed fire, her breath his air. He drank, consumed…gave himself to her as he drove into her again and again. Slipping his other hand from her belly to her soft thatch, he pressed his palm against her mound, snugging her tighter against him as he rode her from behind.

  Their tongues met with erotic twists and jabs followed with tender caresses that threatened his control. He plucked her nipple, capturing her gasp with his mouth. She tensed in his arms as she neared her release. I need to give it to her. To make her mine.

  He slid his finger between drenched folds and found her hard little button. He swiped over it and was rewarded with his little pilot trembling in his embrace. Not yet, darlin’.

  He drove into her. Harder. Faster. Their bodies slapping together in a needy, frenzied rush. He tortured her breast and stroked her clit. He captured her sexy whimpers with his mouth, swallowing them, feeding on them. She gave him everything, held nothing back, and he took her. Again and again. Fighting back his release while he drove her toward hers. Until there was only Brigit. Liquid in his arms. His.

  Now.

  He tweaked her nipple hard and pinched her clit at the same time.

  She flew.

  Her body bucked against him, her ass rubbing his pelvis in the sexiest way as her orgasm overtook her. Her sex gloved him, tighter and tighter until—

  Oh God!

  His release rushed through him, electric shocks zinging from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toes. Lightning and fire and air twisted through him, driving him to completion. He rode wave after wave with her as they shook and shuddered and moaned. He gave her everything, holding her to him, unable to let her go, wanting the sensations she evoked in him to last forever.

  But after however long, the bight flashes behind his eyes dimmed, and the uncontrollable tremors lessened. He returned to the bedroom in the cabin. Brigit remained in his embrace, but his body could no longer remain upright. Angling to the side, he fell to the mattress, taking her with him.

  “Holy….”

  He fought to catch his breath. He’d never come so hard and so completely in his life. “Yeah.”

  She looked over her shoulder at him, her gaze soft, a tender fire in her eyes. He knew that look, had seen it one time before several years ago before his life went to shit. And he’d done everything he could to avoid having anyone look at him that way again.

  What the hell have I done?

  You let her fall for you, you idiot.

  He fought to hold it together. Yeah, big mistake.

  Worse? You’re falling for her, too.

  Chapter Seven

  A sweet peacefulness stole over Brigit, allowing a joy she’d never known to suffuse her soul. She lay close to Carter, her sweat-slickened skin against his. Her heart, no doubt, beating in time with his. She set her hand on his biceps, fingers sliding over taut muscle.

  Quit petting him. He’s not some lost puppy you can keep.

  I know. But right now, he’s mine.

  The voice in her head snorted. He was never yours.

  She rolled to her back and sighed. He sure as hell was a few minutes ago. What he did to me verged on a religious experience.

  Well, time to see the light, Brij. He ain’t staying.

  As though hearing her thoughts, Carter got up and strode to the bathroom, muscles flexing in his calves, thighs, and butt with each step. “You’re looking at my ass, aren’t you?”

  “You know it.”

  A short, rough chuckle escaped him as he closed the door.

  She shouldn’t have, and she certainly had never meant to, but Brigit had fallen for Carter Kohl. Hard. She gazed up at the ceiling, the elation bubbling within her chest curving her lips into a smile. Reaching over, she grabbed his pillow, held it to her chest, and inhaled his scent. Earthy, untamed, and all male.

  Though they’d spent several weeks together, she knew relatively little about him. He’d shared that he was an only child and that his parents had retired to Miami. He visited them a couple of times a year—when his job allowed him to get away. The small scar on his left pectoral was the result of a bicycle accident when he’d tried to jump a ditch as a child. The homemade ramp had been an epic fail, and he’d landed head first in a foot of rainwater, his bike pedal somehow managing to mark the event. He’d graduated high school at the top of his class with a full ride at MIT, from which, to his parents’ great disappointment, he’d walked away.

  In the entire time they’d spent together, that had been all she’d learned. All surface stuff. Every time she’d attempted to dig deeper, he’d touched her or kissed her or stripped her naked and carried her to the shower, always claiming he couldn’t stop himself. She’d never been
more intimate with a man, more free and open, and yet, she knew little to nothing about him.

  She needed to change that.

  Why? It’s obvious you’re just a pleasant distraction while he’s working a job.

  But he’s not working his job. He’s spending all his time with me. Maybe he doesn’t want to leave.

  Do you think he’ll stay?

  She nibbled her bottom lip. No. But maybe he’ll ask me to go with him.

  And if he doesn’t?

  The bathroom door opened, and he appeared. Dressed.

  She frowned. He kept clothes in the bathroom? “Carter?”

  He blanched. “I, uh, thought I’d go get us something to eat.” He jerked his thumb toward the bedroom doorway as he walked toward it. “The fridge is empty.”

  She sat up. “Give me a sec and I’ll go with you.”

  “No, no. You stay right there. Relax.” He strode out of the bedroom, disappearing down the hallway. “Later.”

  The front door opened and closed then, outside, his Harley roared to life, the sound fading as he drove away. She flopped back on the bed, squeezing her eyes closed, the silence that engulfed her deafening. The caginess of his expression. The panic that rang in his voice.

  What the hell? Did he just walk out on me?

  You just walked out on her. Carter drove past the Black Bear Lodge and out onto the road leading to town…and the open highway beyond.

  I just needed space. Air. Time to get my damn head straight.

  He eased down Cedar Valley’s main thoroughfare.

  You just passed the grocery store, asshole.

  He kept going. Past the bar. The beauty salon. The Italian restaurant where they’d shared their first meal. He drove straight out of town.

  Ten minutes down the highway, he pulled off at a scenic overlook, shut his bike off. Fuck!

  He couldn’t do this. She was supposed to be a one-night stand. A fling. A good time. He couldn’t have her. No, not really. And he certainly couldn’t give her what she deserved—a whole man. His heart had been broken, never to be repaired. His trust of women demolished.

  Brigit MacKay deserved better. She deserved a man who could stay with her and take care of her and have a real relationship with her. Someone who could love her. Fully. Completely. Irrevocably. Forever.

  He got off his Harley and marched to the guardrail blocking the steep slope. Somehow, the sexy helicopter pilot had broken through the walls he’d built around himself. And, God help him, the more time he spent with Brigit, the more he wanted her. Without even knowing it, she’d somehow stolen the wrecked piece of crap he called his heart. That she held it in her sweet hands both thrilled and terrified him.

  He balled his fists and growled. “Gah! Fuck me!”

  And she’d sealed the deal, too, right before they’d both come. Yours.

  Her promise rang in is ears.

  The truth responded with a rusty thump-thump in his chest. And he had no idea what to do about it.

  Ping!

  A text alert sounded from his pocket—he’d grabbed the cell phone out of habit on his hasty escape from the cabin. He fished it out, hoping it was her. Hoping it wasn’t.

  JP: Party Friday. Randall Winters. Item should be onsite. Finish this.

  At last, an opportunity had presented itself. He could get this job done and head back to Tampa.

  CK: Tell client as good as done.

  He stuffed his phone into his pocket, consoling himself with the fact he’d told Brigit upfront when he’d finished his work he would leave. Rationalizing that because she knew the score, she shouldn’t be surprised. He’d go back, be professional, and recover the item…and hold her in his arms for as long as he dared.

  Twenty minutes later, he arrived at the cabin to find her dressed and sitting on the couch. “You’re up.”

  “I felt silly lounging naked in bed. Alone.” Her tone scraped the edge of sarcasm.

  He held up a bag. “I got breakfast.”

  “I guess the diner was packed at nine a.m. on a Thursday.”

  He set the food on the table. “It was.” Liar. He strode to the living room, grasped her arm, and pulled her up and against him. Soft breasts pressed to his chest. “Just one thing.”

  Stiff in his embrace, she lifted her chin. “What’s that?”

  He hooked his thumbs beneath the hem of her shirt and tugged it up and over her head. “You are overdressed for breakfast.”

  “Give me that!” She flailed for her top, but he held it behind his back, forcing her to rub against him as she tried to grab it. His body responded, his hardening shaft poking his zipper.

  “Kiss me.”

  She stilled, eyeing him with suspicion. “What?”

  “Kiss me and I’ll give you your shirt.”

  He leaned down, the desire to set his lips on hers almost overwhelming, but he held back. “Kiss me, Brigit. Now.”

  She hesitated then brushed her lips over his. “There.”

  “Again. Like you mean it.” Something he could remember, replay over the long stretch of lonely nights ahead.

  Her blue eyes darkened at the challenge. She skimmed her palms over his shoulders, electric shocks jumping from her fingertips to dance over his skin. Her fingers caressed his nape, drawing him closer as her mouth took his in a deep, wet kiss. He dropped her shirt, and, reaching around her, unhooked her bra. Leaving her sweet mouth, he dragged his lips along her jaw and up to her ear where he outlined the shell of her ear with his tongue.

  “Tomorrow night. What are you doing?”

  Her breath caught as he nipped her lobe. “I…uh, Friday. A thing.”

  “A thing?”

  “A party I have to go to.” She dragged her nails over his shoulders. “For Randall.”

  Carter growled against her neck. “Randall.” God he hated that guy. The way he looked at Brigit pissed him off. The thought of him working with her, fighting fires with her, flying in her helicopter—

  Shut the fuck up, Carter. She’s not yours.

  She lowered her hands, letting her bra slide down her arms and drop to the floor. He gazed at her lush breasts tipped with perfect taut peaks begging for his lips, and his mouth watered. “You want to go with me?”

  And there it was—his “in” to finishing his recovery job. He cupped her breasts, teasing the tips with his thumbs. “Like a date?”

  Her eyes glazed with desire, and she arched into his touch. “Uh-huh.”

  “I don’t know.” He kissed her, thrusting his tongue against hers until he was drunk on her taste then capturing her bottom lip between his teeth and giving it a firm tug that left her breathless. “A date might be moving a little fast.”

  Reaching down, she shimmied out of her pants and underwear then took his hand, pressing it against her mound. “Not fast enough.”

  He slid a digit into her wet, willing heat and groaned. He fingered her until she clung to him, panting with need.

  “Please, Carter….”

  He eased her onto the couch. Settling between her thighs, he set one of her feet on the cushion and draped the other leg over his shoulder, opening her to his hungry gaze. He couldn’t get enough, would never get enough of her.

  “What about breakfast?”

  “I’ve got breakfast right here.”

  Chapter Eight

  Brigit sat next to Carter in her Jeep while he wound them up to the top of the ridge overlooking Cedar Valley. Something was up with him. She just didn’t know what exactly. When he returned from getting breakfast yesterday morning, he’d been reserved somehow. Yes, he’d made love her on the couch then on the bed and again in the shower. But something had been different.

  Honestly, she hadn’t expected him to come back. A part of her had believed he’d hopped on his Harley and ridden out of her life.

  But here she sat, next to him as he turned onto the long driveway of one of the wealthy residents of Cedar Valley and waited in the endless line of cars. At last, they neared the mansion. He
exchanged the keys for a ticket with the valet who jumped into her Jeep and drove away. It seemed everyone from Cedar Valley had been invited. Where were they parking all the cars?

  Cool autumn air swirled around her, and she pulled the shawl around her shoulders tighter. Carter faced her, the tuxedo he’d managed to find somewhere fitting him like a designer suit. His dark-blond hair brushed perfectly into place, a light scruff lining his square jaw. Damn if he didn’t look like a male model. All the women at the party would be ogling him. She couldn’t blame them. But only she knew what lay hidden beneath those fine threads. Heat bloomed low in her tummy at the thought.

  His gaze raked over her, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You look….”

  Her cheeks burned. The stilettos. The dress. Anything but a girly-girl, she stuck to jeans and sneakers, occasionally a skirt and flats. But this? She smoothed her hands over the silk and lace hugging her waist and hips. “It’s too much, isn’t it? I look ridiculous.”

  “God no. I was going to say amazing, but that doesn’t even come close.”

  “The color’s okay?” Since when did she care what anyone thought of how she looked? Since Carter walked into your life.

  “Absolutely.”

  “My sister, Kat, helped me pick it out weeks ago. She said the blue brought out my eyes.”

  One corner of his mouth kicked up in a sexy smile. “It does.” He held out his arm to her, and she laced hers through the crook of his elbow, appreciating the heat radiating from him. Escorting her up the paver drive to the walkway leading to the front door, he guided her to the end of the long line of guests. He leaned down and whispered, “You should know I plan to take that dress off you later. Those heels, however….”

  Butterflies of anticipation swirled in her tummy. This party couldn’t end fast enough.

  A burly guy holding a tablet at the door eyed them. “Name?”

  Carter met the guy’s gaze. “Brigit MacKay and guest.”

  Burly guy slid his finger over the screen, obviously scrolling through the guest list, then tapped it. “Enjoy your evening.”