He snorted.
She glared at him. “Do you mind? This is not the right moment to make fun of me.”
“I was laughing at your pirate underwear,” he said indignantly. “Do you really think I would laugh at you? Even if you weren’t the sexiest thing in an eye patch I ever saw.”
Her mouth twitched. She pressed her lips together, as if determined not to laugh, then gave in to it, her eyes going all sparkly.
“For the record, I think you’re beautiful. I thought you were cute all along, then it grew and grew and now, well . . . Can we skip to the part where I make you come so hard you forget your name?”
Her cheeks went pink and she let out a raggedy sigh. “Oh, all right.” And she took his cock in her hands.
His body went rigid from sheer pleasure. With her eager hands on his shaft, he knew it wouldn’t take long for him to lose his grip.
He pulled down her panties. The sight of the black silk nestled at the juncture of her thighs was like a shot of tequila to his senses. He wanted to lick the fresh pink lips that peeked through. Maybe another time, when they could roll around on an actual bed.
And there would be another time. There better be another time. Because one encounter in the front seat of a truck on the side of the road wasn’t nearly enough for all the things he wanted to do to her.
Instead he touched her gently, reverently. A spasm went through her body. Wet and silky, she must be as close as he was. He fingered the tiny bundle of flesh that made her body vibrate and her breath come in pants.
“Oh Ryan, oh my God, oh please . . .”
“Katie, begging. That’s what I want to hear,” he growled, then bent his lips to her nipples and licked them until her moans grew to panting gasps. Her dark eyes, cloudy with passion, pleaded with him.
“Hang on,” he choked, and pushed the latch on his glove compartment. It fell open, nearly bonking her on the head. “Sorry.”
“I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt. Just hurry.”
“I am, I am.” He scrabbled for a condom. When he found one, he yanked his boxers down so his raging erection sprang free. Katie touched it with hot hands. He thought he might die from pleasure before he ever got the condom on. He tore open the package in record time. She pulled her hands away to let him sheath himself.
“Ready?” His chest felt so tight, he thought it might burst. And a pounding pressure at the base of his spine said, Now, now, now.
She nodded. It looked like she held her breath. He felt her wetness with one hand—so sweet—and guided his cock to the heat that called to him. Her gaze clung to his, her dark eyes gone dreamy with desire. He paused a moment, soaking in every detail of this moment. Her head thrown back on the seat cover, cinnamon hair mussed against the blue cloth. Her graceful torso arched up to meet him, a sweet white stretch of flesh punctuated by two wild cherry nipples. She looked so free, so immersed in her pleasure.
“You’re wonderful,” he said, awe tinting his voice.
“Please,” she begged.
Slowly, inch by inch, he sheathed himself in her wet silkiness. Her body drew him in with a hot, welcoming embrace. His vision went wonky. He took a deep breath, fighting for control. Her inner walls clutched at him.
Holy fuck, he was about to come just from entering her. Quickly he drew out again, then couldn’t stand the feeling of being outside her body, and thrust forward again.
“Aahhhh!” A cry of joy burst from her lips. He thrust again, unable to stop himself, unable to slow down the hurtling train of his need. She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his grinding cock. He loved the feeling of her soft flesh all around him, the silky skin of her thighs gripping him tight, the velvet of her channel pulling at him.
Making love to Katie felt like every thrill rolled into one. Like riding a roller coaster. Like holding a lightning bolt in his arms. Like catching a firefly and watching it glow in your hands. Like diving into the heart of a fire.
Wild spasms shook her body. With fierce satisfaction, he heard her cries of completion. And then all conscious thought dissolved into a primal dance, more, more, more, until everything shimmered and his release exploded the world into a million dancing stars.
After, it took some time to gather the strength to lift his body off her. “Holy Mother of God,” he muttered. He craned his neck to look at her. Her eyes were closed. The crescents of her eyelashes and her straight black eyebrows looked like calligraphy against her flushed skin. She was beautiful.
A sweet hazy feeling filtered through his body. He’d never felt so complete after sex before. It felt right, bone-deep right, to be close to Katie like this, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable place to cuddle. Bracing himself over her, he heard her quick little breaths and knew her heart was still racing, just the way his was. A breeze from the open window fanned her hair, damp against her forehead. They’d come together like two firecrackers, fast and spectacular. What would it be like if they could stretch out and take their time?
He ran a thumb tenderly across her cheekbone.
Her eyes shot open. “I have to tell you something. I just have to. I wasn’t going to, but now I have to.”
He went rigid. He hated when women said things like that. It always meant trouble. They’d never had That Conversation. And now they’d slept together. Sex changed everything. She’d probably start talking about their relationship, and where things stood, and . . .
She took a long breath. “You know that man? The one you asked your dad about?”
He went dead still. “Yeah?”
“He’s supposed to be torching the bar today.”
The pickup raced down the highway at ninety miles an hour. Katie held on tight to her seat belt.
“Hand me my cell phone,” barked Ryan. “Or yours. I think mine fell out while we were screwing.”
She winced at that phrasing. And at the memory of what had just happened. Sex with Ryan had reordered her entire world. And now she didn’t even have time to sort it out.
She dug out her cell phone and handed it to him. He punched in a number with one hand.
“Brody. You mind checking out the Hair of the Dog? Someone might be trying to burn it down. Yes, might be. I know how it sounds. I’ll explain when I get there. I’m twenty minutes out. Thanks, Cap.”
He tossed her the phone. He looked completely furious. And she supposed she couldn’t blame him, even though it was her bar. Her business.
“He said he’d do it safely,” she ventured. “He’s a professional.”
“Don’t talk to me right now.”
“Okay.” She bit her lip, cursing the impulse that had made her tell him. But after the intimacy of their lovemaking, so many confused feelings had burst through her. The secret that had been eating at her all day had come spilling out.
At least it wasn’t the other secret, the deeper, more disastrous one. She could handle the bar burning down. She couldn’t handle Ryan knowing how completely, thoroughly in love with him she was.
Especially now that he must detest her.
“If you could only understand . . .”
He held up a hand to stop her. “Not now. I have to drive. Don’t upset me.”
Amazingly, not a single police cruiser pulled them over before they reached town. Ryan whizzed through traffic as if the other cars were computer-generated images in a video game. As they closed in on the bar, Katie listened for sirens, but didn’t hear any.
“It’s okay! He hasn’t done it yet.”
Ryan ignored her. And then the Hair of the Dog came into view. Smoke poured from the back door.
Thick, dark smoke, with flames darting through it.
The truck hadn’t even come to a complete stop when Ryan dashed out the driver’s side door.
“Call 911,” he yelled to Katie.
“On their way.” A deep male voice called from the back of the bar. Ryan ran to the back, Katie following after him.
A dark-haired, commanding sort of man, who must be
the famous Captain Brody, stood calmly near the fire, as if it were a campfire and he was roasting marshmallows. But instead of a long stick he held a hose. Katie recognized it as the garden hose they used to wash out the garbage cans.
Ryan ran to stand next to him. “Need a break, Brody?”
“Sure. I’ll go look out for the guys.” He handed the hose to Ryan, who held it with casual confidence. An air of complete alertness came over him.
So this was how a wunderkind fireman did his thing.
“For this little thing? Looked a lot worse from the road.”
“I got here just in time. You get some kind of psychic message about it?”
Ryan looked grim. “Not exactly.”
Captain Brody’s dark gray eyes flicked to Katie, who knew she had guilt written all over her face.
“Sounds like an interesting story.”
Katie’s stomach clenched. Captain Brody was a fire chief. He wouldn’t be too crazy about people setting fires on purpose. If he knew the truth, would he report her to the police? Or, maybe worse, to the insurance company?
She held her breath. Would Ryan tell him? Why wouldn’t he? He idolized his captain, and he wasn’t too fond of arson.
“I had a hunch,” said Ryan, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “You know how I am about fires. Besides, we’ve had a couple scares lately.”
Captain Brody’s penetrating look felt like a thousand-pound weight on Katie’s soul. She pulled her glance away, back to the flames. Ryan was definitely getting the upper hand. She saw less orange and more smoke. The fire made a hissing sound that made her think of the Wicked Witch of the West melting. “I think the fire’s going out. You got it!”
A bright spark leaped from the fire, flew through the air, and landed on Ryan’s left leg.
“Son of a bitch!” He swatted at his jeans. Katie saw a black hole appear in the fabric.
“Oh my God! Do something! He’s hurt!” She wheeled on Captain Brody, who didn’t move a single muscle other than what it took to raise an eyebrow.
“You might be right, but I’m not worried about the fire,” he said cryptically. He cocked his head, and in the next instant Katie heard sirens. “I’ll be right back.”
“Ryan, are you okay?” Katie stepped as close to him as she could, until heat fanned against her face. A blast of smoke made her eyes water. “Want me to hold the hose while you see if you got burned?”
“Good God, woman! Stay back, would you?” He shoved her behind him. A stream of blistering curse words made her wince. “You think this is a game?”
“Of course I don’t!”
“I ought to turn you in, Katie. Swear to God I ought to. Maybe you’d learn that way. This is not cool. Not cool. And my leg stings like a mother . . .” He trailed off, glowering at the fire.
She took a step back, then another, until she was far enough away so Ryan wouldn’t notice the tears that sprang to her eyes, stubborn tears that had nothing to do with the smoke.
Disaster. That sweet moment they’d shared, that wild sexual madness—torched right along with the Hair of the Dog.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time Engine 1 arrived, the fire was virtually out. The guys on shift surrounded Ryan with the familiar ribbing.
“Way to put the wet stuff on the red stuff, Hoagie,” said Double D, clapping him on the back. “Don’t know why you called us in, though. You interrupted a Jenga marathon for that? But we’re sure glad to have you back on the job. Maybe the girls will start coming around again.”
“I’m not back,” he tried to explain, but Two interrupted.
“It’s a firehouse, not a Blind Date episode.” She took off her helmet so her long brown braid fell down her back.
“All I ask is a friendly female for a change.”
Ryan stepped in before any blood got spilled. Double D wasn’t exactly good at changing with the times, and Two had no patience for his old-school ways. “I’m not back yet. I’ve been moonlighting here until the captain makes the call. Drinks on me tomorrow night, if we can open after this.”
Double D surveyed the ramshackle bar with a skeptical air. “You get many girls in here?”
Two shook her head in disgust and headed back to Engine 1.
“We get our fair share. And why do you care? Having trouble with Mrs. Double D? Is the curse striking again?”
“Don’t know why that curse works on everyone except me. What’d I do wrong?”
Ryan coiled up the hose and took it to the rusty hose reel mounted to the side of the house. For some reason, Double D’s caustic humor didn’t sit well with him right now. He wished he hadn’t called Brody, wished Brody hadn’t called the guys and made it official. When it came to fires, no one could fool Captain Brody. The man knew damn well something wasn’t right with this scenario. Question was, how far would he push it? Would he question Katie about the fire?
Damn it, Ryan wanted to be the one to let Katie have it. He wanted to ream her up one side and down the other, until the stubborn girl never wanted to so much as light another match. When she truly understood her crime, they’d have spectacular makeup sex. In a bed, where he could explore her responsive little body to his heart’s content.
Speaking of Katie . . .
He finished stowing the hose and looked around for her. When he didn’t see her right away, a horrible thought struck him. Would she be crazy enough to go inside and start cleaning up? That’s probably exactly what she would do, determined to get the bar open for business by tomorrow.
He dashed around to the back, where smoke still wafted from the charred doorway. “Katie! Katie, are you in there?”
The stench of wet, burnt wood and plaster drifted toward him, but no Katie.
“Shit,” he muttered, and moved closer, preparing himself for a plunge into the unknown. He didn’t even have any gear on. If the fire decided to flare back to life, he’d be fresh meat. But Katie would be even more vulnerable. She knew nothing about fires.
“Ryan!” Brody shouted. “What the hell are you doing?”
“I gotta get Katie out.”
“She left.”
“Left?”
Ryan frowned. Katie had left before he could yell at her? What the fuck? She’d left while he was rescuing her from her own foolishness. While he was performing another act of derring-do for the Hair of the Dog. She’d left after all they’d shared that day. Just walked away.
He saw Brody watch him narrowly. Diving into dangerous situations without proper forethought was the habit that had nearly gotten him fired. He ground his teeth. Way to make a good impression on the boss.
Another thing he could pin on Katie.
By the time the scene had been cleared and Brody and the crew of Engine 1 had left, Ryan was boiling mad. He called Katie’s cell phone, but got her voice mail.
“You’ve reached Katie Dane. Please leave a message, because people who don’t leave messages bug me.”
He punched the end button. The hell if he’d leave a message if she put it that way. He felt steam coming out of his ears. If he didn’t talk to Katie soon he’d explode. But he had no idea where she lived.
Ten minutes later, he strode into Toned feeling like the Terminator on a mission. He found Bridget in the same large glass-walled room as before, yelling out commands to rows of pretty girls in colorful workout outfits. Not in the mood for manners, he barged right in. The smell of sweat assaulted him.
Bridget was shouting something about “walk it around, up and down.”
“Bridget,” he said, tapping her on the shoulder.
She jumped about a foot, then shot him a glare that reminded him right away of Katie.
Which made him even more determined to find her and have his say. “I’m looking for Katie. Where does she live?”
“Why do you want to know? And how dare you interrupt my class?”
“Ryan?” One of the girls in the class called out to him. He glanced her way. Oh right, Alison something. He’d dated her a c
ouple years ago. She looked different. Skinnier.
“Hey Alison. You’re looking great.”
She blinked, a huge smile lighting up her face.
“Are you messing with my sister?” Bridget hissed at him. “Don’t you dare hurt her.”
“What?” For a moment, he forgot his anger at Katie. “I thought you two didn’t get along.”
“So what? She’s still my sister. Just because she doesn’t know how to dress and refuses to do anything the normal way doesn’t mean she isn’t a fantastic person. So don’t play your games with her. She’s not that type.”
Bridget put her hands on her hips like some kind of avenging spandex-clad angel. For the first time, Ryan saw her appeal. But he still preferred Katie. “I need to talk to her. There was a fire at the Hair of the Dog.”
“Really? Did it burn down?”
Was that hope he saw on her face? What was wrong with this family? “No, it didn’t burn down. We caught it in time.”
“Oh. Well.” She glanced at the women, some of whom were hopping in place, others sitting on the little step stools, panting. “Get up, get moving!” she barked at the class. “Keep that heart rate going!” The women leaped to their feet.
“Slackers,” she muttered. “Katie lives on El Contento Drive.” She gave him the full address. “But if anything bad comes of this, I’ll hurt you.”
He had no doubt she could. And would. Bridget Dane was an intimidating woman. It almost made him sorry he’d yelled at Katie—and that he intended to do more yelling as soon as he saw her.
Almost.
Katie lived in the worst neighborhood in town. The building looked like a place that rented out rooms by the night. Or the kind of place a homeless man might sleep off a bender. Iron bars protected the windows, which made him feel better about Katie’s personal security, but not about the neighborhood.
Katie shouldn’t be living in a place like this. Every time she left home she put herself at risk from druggies and crazies. And when she came back at night after work . . . His annoyance with her mushroomed as he considered the possibilities. By the time she opened the door he was just as mad as before.
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