“And there wasn’t. Not like . . .”
She trailed off, biting her lower lip. Roman clenched his fists. That lip shouldn’t be pinched between her teeth. It ought to be pressed up against his mouth, that tender flesh responding to his hot kiss.
“Like what?” he asked in a low growl, demanding she finish her sentence.
“Like . . . um . . . like there ought to be.” She dropped her gaze, so he knew she’d censored herself.
“That’s not what you were going to say.”
“You don’t know what I was going to say.”
“Yes, I do.” He stepped close to her and took her head in both his hands, tilting it until her eyes caught dancing sparkles from the streetlights. “You meant, there wasn’t any chemistry like this.”
And he claimed her mouth like a lion claiming its prey.
Chapter Eighteen
Sabina clung to Roman’s broad shoulders as a feverish sort of madness overloaded her senses. With one iron arm banded around her middle, Roman bent her backward and kissed her with ferocious intensity, as if nothing else existed in all of San Gabriel but the two of them. Blood pounded in her ears to the rhythm of yes, yes, yes.
His shoulder muscles felt like boulders. The phrase “built like a brick shithouse” zipped through her mind. He was all rock-solid man, through and through, and the way he kissed her . . . ravenously, lavishly, as if every corner of her mouth had some secret to discover. She returned fire with fire, kissing him back until her lips tingled and her insides went hot and liquid.
He wrenched himself away from her, panting. “We shouldn’t do this.”
But in the next second he was on her again, cupping her face in his huge, calloused hands and consuming her mouth with devastatingly thorough greed.
This time she pulled away. “No, you’re right. We should stop. Right?”
He stared at her with burning eyes and swept his hand through his black hair, more rattled than she’d ever seen him. “I don’t know. I’ve been trying to stay away from you. You don’t know how hard it is to be around you and not toss you on the training room couch and ravish you.”
“Ravish me?” She liked the sound of that.
“Okay, fuck your brains out.”
She gulped, speechless.
He lowered his voice to a hot, secret growl. “Or back you up against the wall in the apparatus bay. Do you know how many times I’ve pictured it? If the department could read minds, I’d be out on my ass by now.”
Sabina slid her palm across his wide chest, edging her fingers under his black leather jacket. It made him look tough, all man, very Italian, and extremely sexy. “I wish I could read your mind right now.”
“Jones, you don’t have to be a mind reader to know what I want.”
She glanced around to make sure the street was empty, then slid her hand down his firm stomach, feeling the heat of his body through his shirt, down past his belt buckle, to the hard, rigid lump beneath. When she touched him, he groaned, low and gritty.
“I give you three seconds to stop doing that. After that I can’t answer for the consequences.”
Slowly, deliberately, she traced the long shape pushing against his jeans. “One.” With her hand firmly on his erection, she found an opening in his shirt and licked his chest. “Two.” Moving the heel of her hand down his hard length, she whispered hotly into his neck. “Three.”
In a voice as thick and hot as a triple espresso, he growled, “You were warned.” He swooped her up, caveman style, opened the passenger door, and tossed her into the Jeep. He scrambled to the driver’s side, using one hand to half vault himself over the hood.
She’d never seen a car take off in such a hurry. It seemed to be moving before the key had even been inserted into the ignition. Electric tension hummed between them, as if they were both holding their breath, hoping the other wouldn’t back out before they came together. Neither said a word until they reached a sweet little house on a street lined with jacaranda trees.
Roman stopped the Jeep and gave her a long, serious look. She knew what the look meant. He was giving her one last chance to back out, but he couldn’t bring himself to say the words. The sheer masculinity of him, the way he filled the Jeep with his presence, his power, the lust simmering under that black leather jacket—it was almost too much for her.
She nodded in reply to his silent question, since it turned out she couldn’t speak either.
But it didn’t matter. In a few moments they were inside.
“Luke?” she remembered to ask.
“Sleepover.”
As soon as the front door closed behind her, he backed her up against it. Heat enveloped her, his body crowding close to hers as he peeled off his jacket and tossed it aside. He hiked up her legs and wrapped them around his waist. His hard erection pressed against her sex. She’d been ready ever since he’d first kissed her next to the Jeep. Now the sensation of heat and pressure, right where she needed it, made her moan.
“Oh God, Roman, that feels so good.” The words came from some husky place deep in her throat.
“Hell, yes,” he muttered as he pushed up her shirt. He ran his thumbs across her bra-covered nipples, which gave her an electric pleasure. Good Lord, if it felt so good now, what would it be like without a bra? In the next second she found out, as he undid the front clasp and filled his hands with her freed breasts. Oh sweet Lord above—the heat of him, the roughness of his palms, the maddening pull of his fingers, plucking, arousing, sent bolts of lightning straight to her belly.
Digging her hands into his shoulders to pull him closer, she ground her pelvis against the ridge of his cock. Even through both their layers of clothing, the shocking pleasure mounted, higher and sweeter and brighter, as if they were flying into a blazing sun.
He murmured something gruff and commanding, the sound touched a place deep inside her, and she broke apart into a blinding flash of orgasm. Stunned, uncomprehending, she came and came . . . the waves of sensation so intense as to be nearly painful. She buried her face in his shoulder as her body shuddered against his. The last spasms still hadn’t faded when he whirled her around and strode to the bedroom, the house a dim blur to her dazed vision. Inside the bedroom, he kicked aside a chair and a few stray pieces of clothing.
Then he tossed her onto his enormous bed and stood over her like a conquering warrior.
She lay on her back, breathless from the whirlwind trip through his house, not to mention the astonishing climax just before that. He’d nailed her to the wall, she thought hysterically, and hammered her senseless. A goofy grin spread over her face as giggles spurted from her mouth.
“You’re laughing.” Roman narrowed his eyes as he tore off his shirt. “Am I that funny-looking?”
“No,” she said, through uncontrollable giggles. “You’re ssss . . .” She struggled to get the word out through her gales of laughter. Why was she laughing? It made no sense. Nothing made any sense. She’d come through two layers of clothing, his and hers, without any other contact. When did that ever happen? “You’re sexy.”
“Glad you think so.” Roman still looked suspicious as he dropped his pants. Sabina’s laughter came to a sudden, choking halt when he stood before her completely, breathtakingly naked.
It was as if Roman redefined the word “man.” It would never mean the same thing to her again, she knew, not now that she’d seen him in his full magnificence, from his pitch-black, wildly mussed hair to his powerful thighs and the thick rod of flesh that reared between them. He was fiercely, proudly, arrogantly aroused.
“Come here,” she whispered hoarsely.
“God, how I want you,” he answered, striding to the edge of the bed. “Why, for all that’s holy, are you still dressed?”
“I have no idea.” She brought herself to a kneeling position. The two of them fumbled with her clothing with equally shaky hands. She flung it all willy-nilly across the room until she knelt, completely naked, on the bed. After a long, reverent, scalding look
that made her nipples tighten, he joined her like that and they sealed their torsos together, flesh to hot flesh, his cock nesting between her open thighs.
“God, Roman.” The feel of his strength, his heat, his power, his skin against hers, robbed her of all logical thought. Need pounded through her blood. Mine. Inside. Now. She thrust her hips toward the erection burning against her thigh, then reached a hand down to circle it. He felt hot to the touch, swollen and ready to burst. His hands went all over her, stroking her back, curving along the indentation of her waist, cupping her buttocks. His strokes made every part of her purr with desire.
She whimpered into his shoulder, knowing with one part of her brain that she’d abandoned all dignity but not caring one bit. Not when his touch felt so incredible. Not when he looked at her with such hot lust, as if he wanted to devour her from head to toe. Not when he claimed her mouth for a kiss that seemed to last for a year.
“I’m going to take you now,” Roman said in a voice so thick with lust she barely recognized it. “Make you mine.”
“Yes,” she choked. “Hurry.”
He picked her up, flipped her onto her back, and spread her arms wide. “Wait right there. Just like that.” The command in his voice sent bright shivers through her system. He leaned over to the bedside table and found a condom. She watched the muscles moving under his skin with a kind of sharp craving. She wanted him to pour every bit of his strength and power into her body. Into her being. And she wanted him to want her with the same degree of intensity.
When he turned back to her, his black eyes drinking her in as if she was water in the desert, she knew he did want her the same way. She wasn’t alone in this frenzy of physical need. They were in it together.
“Please,” she whispered. “Now.”
“Oh yes. Now.” His big, warm hands spread her open. She started to come even before he penetrated her with one long, sensual thrust. She clamped down on her oncoming orgasm, not wanting this to end too soon. His eyes half closed as her tight passage sucked him inside.
“Dio, Sabina. How can you feel so fucking good?” A shudder racked his powerful body and the muscles of his arms went rigid as he braced himself over her, straining to hold himself back.
Fuck it. She didn’t want his restraint. She wanted his wildness, his lust, his roughness. “Don’t hold back,” she hissed. “Do it. Now.”
As if she’d unleashed something, he reared up, then waited one long moment, while the spinning of the earth seemed to stop. Then, with a strong thrust, he plunged his cock into her, all the way to the hilt. Explosions detonated deep inside her, the shock waves traveling to the ends of her fingers, the curling tips of her toes. It was too much, too good, too far . . . and not enough. “More.”
Over and over again he impaled her. He’d turned into a wild creature released from its chain—a beast claiming its mate. Each primal thrust sent her higher and higher into a realm of white-hot pleasure she’d never experienced before. She screamed and thrashed her head back and forth, gripping the sheets with unconscious fingers.
His wildness set her free to be just as wild—to grunt and moan and fuck and glory in the sheer physical bliss of being next to each other, inside each other, surrounded by each other.
He was making some kind of sound too, but she could barely hear it over the ringing in her own ears. A triumphant shout, a harsh cry, a “mamma mia,” or maybe it was “Madre di Dio,” some kind of glorious Italian mumble of gratitude, a long spasm as he arced over her. Then he tumbled onto the sheets next to her, maintaining contact through tangled legs and a heavy hand on her hip.
As the bright shimmers of her orgasm receded, other senses returned to their usual jobs. She inhaled the scent of coffee and leather that clung to Roman, now mingled with the richness of sex. She licked her lips, tasting the salt of her own sweat and probing the swell left by his ferocious kisses. She became aware of the quiet of the bedroom, its orderliness, its tame decor.
Something about his bedroom reminded her of her own house—the blandness, the lack of personality, the anonymity. Maybe he had a bit of refugee in him too.
Oh Roman, she thought as she snuggled her face into his side. Maybe we’re more alike than we realize.
Then she fell into a deep, satisfied slumber.
Roman watched Sabina sleep with a sense of hushed awe. He didn’t question what had just happened. He’d been swept up in a kind of madness that only this one particular woman brought out in him. Why Sabina? Why here, why now? His fatalistic side didn’t question it. And he ordered his conscientious side to shut up for the moment. They’d worry about the consequences later. For now, he traced the fine slope of her arm, felt the little poufs of breath from her parted lips, and marveled.
“What are you staring at?”
Too relaxed to be startled, he smiled. “The work of art that happens to have landed in my bed.”
“Landed?” She snorted. Her eyes had opened a mere slit. They gleamed with silvery laughter in the moonlight filtering through the window blinds. “I was virtually carjacked, then dumped on your bed like a sack of potatoes.”
“Technically not a carjacking since it was my car. You might get away with calling it kidnapping.”
“Not that I’m complaining,” she said, her lips curving. “Best kidnapping ever.”
“It had its moments.” His cock tightened as a couple of choice memories came flooding back. Dio, she’d completely knocked all sense out of him. He cleared his throat. “How . . . uh . . . how are you feeling? I wasn’t too rough on you, I hope.”
“Excuse me?” She sat up and poked him indignantly in the chest. “Why would you say that?”
“Well . . .” The truth was, Maureen had preferred things a bit more . . . civilized. But it didn’t seem appropriate to bring her up. “I was just checking in.”
“Well, thanks for the thought, but if my unholy screams of ecstasy didn’t clue you in, I’m not sure what would.” Her face went pink—though it was hard to tell in this light. “Sorry if I . . .” She trailed off.
He experienced a sense of fierce satisfaction. So he wasn’t the only one feeling a little awkward at how carried away they’d gotten. Not that he regretted it. But it had been so long since he’d lost control like that. He’d always been so restrained with Maureen.
“Don’t you dare apologize for anything,” he ordered, softening the command with a tender smile . “I loved every hot, sweaty second. I’m already planning how I can ravish you again. It’ll be easier this time.” He nuzzled her soft neck. “No kidnapping required.”
She wriggled under the tickling of his tongue. “That’s too bad,” she teased. “That caveman technique has a lot going for it.”
“Can’t have you thinking I’m always a brute.” He pinned her hands over her head and licked his way down her down her collarbone with delicate strokes of his tongue, as if it were a paintbrush. “I’m also a sensitive guy.” He took her nipple between his teeth, not hard enough to hurt, and felt it stiffen. God, what a rush. He swiped his tongue over it and felt her shudder. He spoke around her nipple, loving how it responded to his hot breath and the movements of his mouth. “I like to take it slow sometimes. What’s the rush? Why not savor every inch of your incredible body?” He gave her swollen nipple a long suckle.
“You’re killing me.” She dug her hands into his hair.
He smiled, rolling her nipple in his mouth. “Now that’s what I like to hear.” He pulled back and gazed at the wet morsel of flesh, now swollen to the size of a large raspberry, and just about the same color. “You are so beautiful.” His eyes traveled down her lovely flesh, opened to him like a ripe apricot. The light patch of hair at her sex surprised him, until he remembered Taffy had been known for her reddish-gold hair. Sabina must dye her hair this shade of brown. He brushed his hand over the soft thatch and felt her wetness.
Slowly, he raised his eyes, knowing he couldn’t hide what was in his heart. Couldn’t hide what she did to him, how she turned him
into a slavering beast.
Her lips curved in a smile of pure, wicked invitation, she rolled on top of him, surprising him with her strength. She straddled his hips with that supple, responsive body of hers. Her soft skin shone with a light sheen of sweat. Her breasts were sweet champagne flute curves, her aroused nipples calling to him like sirens. Obediently his cock rose and bobbed against her butt.
“My turn. I intend to get to know every bit of your fine and sexy body. And you’ll just have to lie there and take it.”
He took it. Without complaint. He watched with heavy-lidded eyes as she nipped and tasted her way across his chest, twirling curls around her finger, tweaking his nipples, teasing and exploring. It wasn’t until she reached his cock, already hard again, and took it into the warm shelter of her mouth, that it dawned on him.
Life as he knew it was over. Making love to Sabina had changed everything.
Chapter Nineteen
To Sabina, every minute of the rest of the night seemed to exist outside the normal definition of time. Some moments passed extremely fast, so they’d look at the clock and realize it was three in the morning. At other moments it would seem impossible that they could cover so much ground in such a short amount of time. How could she feel so close to this man when they’d been intimate only a few hours?
Several incredible times in those few hours, but still . . .
They did much more than roll around on his king-size bed. He asked her why she was so adamant about leaving her Hollywood life behind. Since the question came from a Greek god of a man with his head braced on one elbow and his feet tangled with hers, it took her a moment to adjust to the new topic.
“I don’t think ‘life’ is the right word,” she said, tangling her fingers in a black patch of chest hair. “You know how transsexuals say they’re trapped in the wrong kind of body?”
“Don’t you dare say anything bad about your body,” he growled. “I’d have to spank you.”
She wrapped a curl around her finger and tugged. “Then you’d have to be prepared for revenge.”
Sex and the Single Fireman: A Bachelor Firemen Novel Page 17
