Or maybe she’s devouring me. Holy hell, guess my first clue was when she took me to task for my fucked-up thinking about the gay issue the week before, but all that soft sweetness I see on a daily basis? That’s definitely not all there is to her. Eden wants this just as bad as I do, and now that we’ve started, she’s just a hair shy of outright aggressive.
It’s hot as fuck.
She’s still rocking herself on my cock, and it’s torture, because there are too many clothes between us, but at the same time, I can’t bear to take my hands or my mouth off her long enough to rectify that situation.
My cast is wedged between us, pushed up under her gorgeous breasts and making me curse it all over again since I can’t feel a thing there, but when I go to move it out of the way, Eden gasps, jerking back.
“Oh, no, did I hurt you?”
“You’re hurting me right now, beautiful,” I tell her honestly, trying to rock her forward again with my good hand. “What are you thinking, taking that mouth away from me?”
She goes that pretty shade of pink again, but bites her lip instead of letting me taste it again. “But… your arm?”
I’m about to tell her not to worry about it, but then see an opportunity. “Just means I’m gonna need a little help,” I say, running my left hand over her curves. “Can you do that for me?”
That sexy little hitch to her breath again—breasts heaving against me—and she nods. “What… what do you want me to do?”
I skim my fingers under the waistband of her shorts. “These are in my way. Can you take care of that for me, beautiful?”
I love undressing a willing woman, unwrapping her like a present, but when Eden stands up and reaches under that apron to slip those shorts off, and a lacy pair of pale pink panties along with them? It doesn’t take me long to discover that I love watching it happen almost just as much.
She reaches behind her, toward those apron strings, and I shake my head.
“Leave it,” I tell her, my cock jerking in my pants with the knowledge that she really is halfway bare under the cute little thing now. “Can you get your top off without untying the apron?”
“You don’t want me to take the apron off?” she asks, pressing her lips together like she’s trying not to laugh when I nod.
She does it, tank top and bra landing on the floor next to her other clothes, and then stands there in front of me looking… well, pretty much exactly like she did with the apron on, but now I know damn well that there’s nothing underneath.
“Fuck, that’s hot,” I say, not even trying to pretend I’m not turned all kinds of on.
Eden laughs, smoothing the fabric that barely covers her hips. She’s blushing with pretty much her whole body now, but I love that she’s letting me get away with this.
“Do you know how many times I’ve imagined this today?” I ask, grinning up at her. “You’re doing a good deed here, Eden Evans, helping an injured man live out a fantasy. A real Samaritan.”
“Have you seriously been thinking dirty things about me in this apron all weekend?” she asks, biting that lip again as she smiles at me.
“Busted.”
She comes closer, standing between my spread legs and then killing me when her voice gets all breathless again and she says, “I’m so glad I’m not the only one.”
“Not by a long shot,” I say, sliding my good hand up her thigh… skimming over those freckles… exploring underneath the hem of that apron as I start to learn her by touch.
She gasps when I make it to the center and discover just how smooth shaven she is, her hands landing back on my shoulders for balance. “Matt,” she whispers, her fingers tightening on me as mine dip into her for the first time. “Oh, Lord.”
“That’s right, beautiful,” I say, stroking through her folds. Her face is so gorgeous, so expressive, telegraphing exactly what she needs and telling me just how much she likes it when I give it to her. “Right there, yeah?”
She moans, thighs trembling, and I take that as a yes and do it some more. And damn if discovering just how wet she is doesn’t make my dick want to leap right out of my pants—but I ignore it for now, because nothing on God’s green earth is better than the sounds she’s starting to make as I finger her tight, hot pussy… as I find that little nub that drives her crazy and tease it with my thumb… as I rock the heel of my hand against her until she’s practically riding it, head thrown back and fingers digging into my shoulders as pure arousal burns off the last of her self-consciousness.
Fucking… beautiful.
I’m so hard it hurts, and I already know I’m not ever gonna be able to see her in this apron again without getting right back in the same state. It’s red and covered with little white polka dots—the top shaped like a heart that barely contains her generous breasts and a white, ruffled, lacy bit all along the outer edge that hits the very top of her thighs and hides my hand—and if I wasn’t in this damn cast, I’d use my other one to pull her down here. Let the weight of those lush tits fill my palm and get my mouth on her nipples—straining against the material like they’re begging for attention—and find out if she likes that, too.
She moves her hands off my shoulders, running them through the back of my hair as she starts to pant with her need. The hot, musky scent of her sex teases me, so close to my face but hidden away, and as much as I’d love to see all of her—and you can bet that I’m still counting on that happening sooner rather than later—right now? There’s something insanely erotic about discovering her by braille, so to speak.
By learning my way around by touch alone.
By keeping my eyes on hers as she makes all these pretty, pretty sounds that let me know just how good I’m making her feel.
“Matt… Matt… Matt…”
The way my name keeps falling out of her mouth makes me think she doesn’t even know she’s saying it, and suddenly, just touching her isn’t enough.
“Turn around for me, beautiful.”
She blinks dazed eyes at me like she didn’t quite hear, but no problem—I’m already doing it for her, suddenly all kinds of proficient with my left hand as I spin her around to face the table and get my first look at her perfect, heart-shaped ass.
I groan. I’ve always been a bit of an ass man, and with that sexy little apron tied in a bow right between the two dimples at the base of her spine, ends dangling down to taunt me as they tease her crease? All I can say is that if there’s ever a time I wished for two good hands, it’s right… fucking… now.
“Matt,” she says, turning to look down at me over her shoulder. Her breath hitches. “Please.”
Damn, that please gets me. I’m not sure what she’s asking for exactly, but I sure as hell know what I’d like to give her. I’d like nothing more than to pull my cock out and get some relief, to sink it into her and take us both to heaven, but no way am I interrupting the moment to go find protection.
No condoms… one hand out of play… just means I’ll need to get creative.
I grind my good hand against my throbbing cock for all of two seconds—all the time I can bear to not be touching her—and then I’m squeezing that beautiful ass with my one good hand. Moving those little red ribbons aside so I can spread her open a little for an intimate look. Running my palm over all that petal-soft skin… those sweet, bouncy curves… that innocent-looking little red bow.
I’m tracing her spine with a firm hand.
Pressing her down over the table.
Bending her over in front of me until she’s exactly where I want her—where I need her—to be.
I kiss the tender spot where her ass meets her thigh, and she moans like a porn star, her whole body trembling. Christ. If she’s this responsive here, I really am gonna be coming in my pants once I get my mouth where I want it.
“You like that, beautiful?” I ask, grinning and doing it on the other side.
“Y-y-yes,” she manages, and I swear it feels like that needy, stuttering word strums right over my cock.
Not gonna lie, I’d love to watch her face while I fuck her someday, but there’s something about doing a girl from behind that gets me all sorts of fired up. Like I said, I’m an ass man, and when she starts begging me again—
“Please… Matt… please.”
—I groan and spread her wider, letting my fingers push into her moist folds exactly the way I already know she likes. And oh yeah, fuck yeah, she likes it just as much from behind.
My mouth is watering, but patience brings its own reward, amirite? So instead of allowing myself a taste of what I really want, I start by licking those little freckles I noticed on her thigh earlier. It makes her whimper in the sexiest way, so I nibble on them, working my way toward the inside, chasing the tiny quivers in her soft skin and guided by the rising tone of her panting breaths.
Fuck, she’s delicious, and I haven’t even gotten a real taste yet.
“Matt,” she gasps when I find her clit again with my fingers.
“Fuck,” I grit out, because I shit you not, I’m in actual pain here. Cock so hard it might cripple me and no way to give myself any attention whatsoever, because Eden? She’s so fucking responsive I wouldn’t stop now if you paid me. I’ve got her grinding on my hand like it’s a sex toy… rocking back against me and promising me dirty, dirty things as I lick off the sweet juices that coat her thighs… as I circle closer and closer to where I know she really wants my mouth… as she starts begging so prettily for some relief that I can’t hardly stand it.
The pain is one hundred percent worth it. So… fucking… hot.
“Please,” she gasps, practically sobbing as her voice gets more and more desperate. “Oh, Lord, oh God, Matt… please… please… please.”
I’ll never get enough of that sexy hitch in her breath.
“Spread your legs for me, Eden,” I growl, wrapping my good hand firmly around one of her thighs and pulling her toward me.
She whimpers, doing what I tell her and then gasping out my name again when I bury my face in her sweet center and finally use my tongue to start doing all the things she loved so much with my fingers.
“Matt.”
I flatten it, licking her with long, lazy strokes as I savor my first taste.
“Oh my… oh my God,” she pants, thighs trembling around my face.
I suck on her delicate folds, parting them with my tongue. Thrusting it inside her. Using my hand to spread her wider and doing it again… and when it makes her cry out… again.
“Matt… Matt… oh, Lord, Matt pleasepleaseplease.”
I find her clit and tease it.
Lick it.
Suck on it until she’s begging even louder.
Bite down on it—just enough to make her gasp—and then pull her against my face so I can thrum my tongue against it.
Faster…
Faster…
Faster.
I’m drunk with the taste of her… with the feel of her… with the sound of her sobbing breaths as I push two fingers inside and find that sweet spot that makes her scream, as I fuck those fingers into her over and over, until I feel her pussy start to clench tight around them and then—oh fucking Christ, Eden finally comes apart, and I ride it out.
Taste all of it.
…and then push her even higher, because I’m a greedy son of a bitch who wants it all. I don’t let up until she explodes for me all over again, until she’s clawing at the table… gasping out my name… grinding against my face and… and Jesus—
“Fuck fuck fucking Christ,” I gasp.
—and then I’m coming too, totally hands-free. Shaking with it. So damn worked up over how completely Eden let herself go that before I can stop it, I’m groaning against her heated skin, cock pulsing hard, spilling out my release. I’m coming with her taste on my tongue and my pants still zipped and the absolute, rock-solid unquestionable certainty that I was right.
Eden’s the girl for me.
She’s fucking perfect.
And oh, the things I plan to do to her once I can get both my hands on her.
10
Johnny
“Didn’t I tell you to keep him away from the station?” Chief Masterson pretends to growl, winking at me as he throws an arm over Matty’s shoulders. Chief is grinning like the prodigal son has just returned, and has been since the minute he caught sight of us.
It’s the station’s annual summer barbecue, and every year they do it up like a major holiday. It’s a shame Eden had to work, but no way would Matt have considered not coming. And truth? For all the B.S. flying, Chief would’ve killed me if I’d let Matty miss it.
Classic rock pours out of the speakers, the smell of grilling meat is heavy in the air, and the beer flows freely as firefighters and their spouses mingle with community volunteers, trainees, and so many kids hyped-up on sugar that getting from point A to point B without tripping over one is a serious hazard. Basically, the day is fucking perfect.
Matty shoves the chief off him good-naturedly. “Hey, gotta make sure you guys haven’t burned the place down, yeah?”
Chief rolls his eyes at me theatrically, jerking a thumb at Matt. “Next thing you know, this one will be sneaking onto a truck and going for more of those heroics that we try to train out of you assholes,” he says, walking with us toward the food.
“Hey, this isn’t on me,” I try, holding my hands up as a couple of the guys, Bill and Jimmy, catch sight of us and head our way with the kind of grins on their faces that tell me they are absolutely ready, willing, and able to give Matty the three weeks’ worth of shit he’s missed out on since his accident. “You know I can’t keep Matt away when meat is grilling,” I add.
“Not on you,” Jimmy repeats, obviously overhearing. He shakes his head like he’s disappointed in me as he and Bill join us, handing over cold beers to make the day even more perfect. “That’s a load of bullshit and you know it. Pretty sure they only gave you a badge so you’d keep Lopez in line, Johnson.”
“Hey now,” Matty protests, doing his best to look offended. “Pretty sure you got that backward. Last I checked, I’m the one who keeps Johnny in line. You guys really want him loose on a scene without my calming influence to keep him from doing something crazy?”
My lips twitch at that. I mean, sure, there may have been an ounce of truth to it, but luckily, one of the guys steps up and points out the obvious.
“Calming, he says.” Bill snorts, shaking his head as he taps Matty’s cast. “Might’ve believed it before you pulled this stunt.”
“Needed some vacation time, didn’t I?” Matt tosses back, as if he’s not going one hundred percent stir-crazy at the house.
Well… maybe not quite one hundred percent anymore, unless I miss my guess. I take a drink from my beer, eyeing him as he banters back and forth with the guys and feeling just about as happy to be right here, right now, as any day I can remember.
Matty looks good. Cast or not, he’s definitely keeping himself in shape. Putting in extra time at the gym to make up for all the downtime these last few weeks, and fuck if it doesn’t show to a very nice effect. Today—sporting cargo shorts that fit his ass like they were designed to color my balls bright blue and a Red Sox t-shirt that hugs his chest like a second skin—he’s a fucking wet dream.
I scrub a hand over my face and look away before I let myself go too far with that line of thinking, but it just brings me to the other reason I’m guessing Matty’s started to enjoy his “vacation” time a bit more. I pulled a few 24-hour shifts last week, and the way he and Eden have been exchanging looks? I’m pretty sure that during at least one of my overnights, the girl took my advice and made something happen.
I’m not exactly green about it, but I’m definitely… something. I grin, hiding it behind another sip of beer. Fine, no point pretending I don’t know what that something is, and it’s sure as shit not jealous.
I’m horny as fuck is what I am, not gonna lie, and imagining what might’ve happened between the two of them has practically worn my righ
t hand out in the shower this past week.
I nearly spit my beer out when the new guy, Asher, sneaks up on me from behind, clapping a hand on my shoulder.
“Hey, Johnny,” he says, eyes trained on Matt. “This the infamous Mateo Lopez?”
Well… shit.
“Matty, Asher Campbell. Ash, this is Matt, yeah,” I say, managing the introduction.
I’m pretty sure I’m not just imagining the invisible ripple of tension that moves through all the guys. I’m not immune to it, either.
Matty’s smiling like he doesn’t feel it at all, and I want to groan. Or grab him and leave. Or just… well, I’d never run out on him, of course, but this is definitely one of those moments where I wouldn’t mind hiding my eyes from the train wreck I’m pretty sure is barreling toward us.
“Heard about you, buddy,” Matt says, holding out his hand.
“Same,” Asher says, not cold… but less than warm.
That tension cranks a little higher. The thing is, you gotta trust everyone to have your back in a job like ours, and if these two get off on the wrong foot, we all know it’s gonna be rough.
Matty and Ash shake hands, and I can see Matt’s eyebrows go up enough to guess that Asher put a little extra something in his grip.
Shit.
Did I mention Asher has balls of steel? Coming over with the obvious intention of dealing with Matty head-on is one hundred percent true to form, but doesn’t make it any less nerve-wracking to watch.
I exchange a covert glance with Bill as Matt gives Asher a questioning look. I’ve already overheard a couple of the guys warning Ash to expect a little standoffishness when Matt gets back to the station—Bill being one of those guys—but Ash wasn’t born yesterday. He’s obviously correctly interpreted that “standoffish” for the warning it actually was, because it’s no secret around here that Matty’s got more than a hint of homophobia in his make-up.
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