“For me?”
“Sally was always trying to fix me up with this girl or that, knowing we’d ‘hit it off’. Klahowya’s a small town and some days it feels like the Dating Game.” He shot her a glance, not wanting her to be jealous. “All of the stuff was still in the basket and untouched. I’m not saying I was a saint, but I am saying it’s been a long time since a woman has been to my cabin. I hope this bath stuff doesn’t have a shelf life or expiration date.” He flipped over the colored plastic carton to read the label.
“I’m not jealous even if you had used the stuff for another woman, and you can stop worrying.” Mia cleared her throat and then said as he turned to leave, “Cy? Stay.”
He shut the door and then closed the gap between them. “If nothing else I can keep you from falling asleep and drowning in the tub. Need some help?” She nodded, lifting her arms.
Pulling her -T-shirt over her head he reached behind and snapped the release on her bra.
Their breaths clouded in the steam from the bath. His gaze held hers as he pulled the lace bra off her chest. His kiss was gentle and soft though his body was raging from the feel of her bare skin. “The bath will help you relax,” he repeated in a husky, raw tone. But his kiss said he had more than that in mind.
Mia unbuttoned the top button on her jeans and he eased them down and over her hips. Mia slipped her hands under the edge of his -T-shirt to rest beneath the waistband of his jeans in the dip of his spine. There was a snap when she touched his bare skin. He couldn’t yet admit to her that it was kind of a turn-on. She was as excited to touch him as he was to touch her.
In her eyes, he saw how tired she was. “Are you sure?” He was desperate to be with her again but thought he should leave her alone. He’d give her another chance to opt-out.
She nodded, and then he trailed his lips to nip at the hollow of her neck. He molded his mouth to hers.
Even before the bath, Mia smelled so good. His body tightened thinking of all that warm perfumed skin after the bath. His eyes drifted down her naked body and motioned with his head. “You better get in before I have to run the water again.”
He knew she’d like the bath, but not nearly as much as he was going to enjoy watching her take it. He sucked in a long breath as he watched her step gingerly into the steaming water and then ease herself down.
He’d made himself the promise, no touching, wanting her to be able to relax. But he had no willpower. In fact, when it came to Mia he had absolutely none. Her black hair fell like a curtain to pool around her in the water. She sighed, sinking deeper making him shift the seam of his jeans away from the erection swelling.
Her dark skin shone coppery as he lit the candles next to the tub and flipped off the light. He was transfixed by her beauty, the high cheekbones, and lush lips. His gaze drifted, to the soft luscious curves of her breasts floating from the water.
Mia’s eyes fluttered open, as she caught him staring at her. “The bath is perfect. Are you always right?”
Cy chuckled. “That’s one of those husband’s catch-22 questions that wives always ask like, ʻDo I look fat in this dress?’ There’s no right answer, and you’re screwed no matter how you answer it.” He stood and leaned against the doorjamb, relishing the sight of her.
“Husband?”
He smiled enjoying the shocked look on her face. “Hell, I told you on the first day we met, I was going to marry you.”
Now both of her eyes were open.
He chuckled at her shocked look. “But, I’m not proposing to you—naked—in the bathtub, exhausted. So you’re safe…for tonight.”
Opening a drawer by the sink he pulled out a bath pillow. Kneeling, he slid it under her neck and she nestled back. He swirled a hand through the water again but avoided skin. Damn. Why had he made that promise?
As if reading his thoughts Mia smiled at him. “Would you wash my hair? Sometimes it’s hard for me to reach all of it. I think I should cut it.”
“I love your hair.” And he did. She didn’t need to ask him twice, any chance to touch it was reason enough for him. He leaned forward on his knees, cupped his hands, and dipped them into the hot water.
Mia tipped her head back as he poured the water over her scalp. Squeezing out a dollop of shampoo, he lathered it into the ebony strands. Her hair tangled around his palms as he massaged down to her scalp with his fingertips.
“So much has happened today, it’s hard to process it. For the first time, it makes sense. What Donoma,...my grandma, said about me being an empath? I could never explain it, but that describes exactly what happens. I take on the emotions of others around me. Before the fire happened I’d talked with Margie at the restaurant about her bum boyfriend. I couldn’t shake the emotions that kept running through me. It wasn’t just in my mind, it was in my blood, her pain and frustration. I tried to pull the power out of me, but I couldn’t. There was something that told me I shouldn’t have fallen asleep, that I wasn’t in control. That’s why I thought I had started the fire.” Mia sighed leaning into the push of his hands. There was a slight hiss of steam as Cy’s fingers grazed her naked shoulder, and she smiled lazily. “And I’m never in control around you. There are always so many emotions coming off of you, you’re a ‘hurricane of emotions.’”
“I can’t help the way I feel.”
Mia reached around for his hand, grabbed it, and then brought it to her lips. She kissed his wet knuckles. “I don’t ever want that to change. I can feel how much you love me. Truth is, you’ve never been able to hide that.” She turned and rubbed her hand down his cheek. “That’s why at first it was overwhelming to be around you. I didn’t know what to do with you.”
He laughed. “You’re not the first to say that. I hear it from Sally often.”
Mia rested her arm out of the water on the lip of the tub. “I’ve found that if I let those barriers down, let the emotions you’re feeling come in, it centers me. It balances the powers, like yin and yang. That’s how I feel around my grandma. It’s when I try and fight it that my body rebels. It’s trying to tell me to take it in.”
“What about the bubble of light?” Cy rinsed the last of the soap and rung the strands of hair between his hands.
“It’s a culmination of all those emotions becoming a physical thing. I guess it’s there to protect me.”
“Protect you?” Cy asked raising an eyebrow in question. “What about when we were making love, was it protecting you then?”
Mia looked at him, shrugging. “It could have been-. Since you’d made me lose any form of control, along with my sane mind, the powers didn’t know what to do, so they popped around us just in case.” She brushed a finger over his cheek. “When I let your love in, I can feel you inside of me. You become a part of me. I feel you in my blood. In my bones.”
“That’s not a secret power, I feel it too.”
Mia bit the side of her lip. “I don't deserve someone like you.”
“Don’t say that. You deserve all the happiness you want. Everything you want.” He rose on his knees until his face was inches away from hers. “The water’s cooling off, you’ll get cold.”
She kissed the tip of his nose, then suddenly rose with a splash, standing before him. Water glistened in tiny rivulets off her dark, tanned skin. Cy swallowed hard and blinked as he reached for the towels. His fingers ached as much as the rest of him, wanting to feel her beneath him.
Mia bent and wrapped one towel around her head, but when Cy handed her the other towel, she shook her head. “You can do it.” Her voice turned rich and sexy. “You were the one who came up with the no-touch rule, but of course if you want to keep upholding that rule...”
His body burned as he playfully yanked the towel from her grasp.
Gently, he patted the water from her face, her breasts, and then her long tanned legs. Mia removed the towel from her head and shook all that glorious hair free, running her fingers through to comb the tangles.
“Do I look like a high priestess?” sh
e asked, shooting him a sideways grin and shook her wet hair to fall over her shoulders.
“You’re a—vision.” Cy licked his lips, remembering the dream he’d had of Mia in the hospital the night of the fire. She looked now, as she had at that moment in his dream. Naked and glorious.
Déjà vu? Had it been some kind of premonition of his future with her?
He blinked to snap himself back. “Sorry, but you just blew my ‘no-touch rule’ right out of the water. No pun intended.” He took her mouth greedily to his, kissing her hard and deep.
Cy never liked the games men and women played. With Mia it was different, they both knew what they wanted and weren’t afraid to ask for it. The feel of her pressed naked against his fully clothed body was exhilarating and deeply erotic. He twisted her hair around his fingers and brought it to his nose. “Bless Sally for her basket of ‘frou-frou’ stuff.” He ran a hand down the smooth skin of her back, over one round buttock cheek, and then squeezed causing a startled squeak to escape from her lips.
“Bless Sally.”
“If you want to play with fire, I’ll share with you some of my own.” He pulled her close so she could feel the hard press of him through his jeans. “You said I was a hurricane of emotions, what are you feeling now?” His words were husky with need.
Mia sucked in a pull of breath, and he felt her tremble, as he nuzzled her neck and pressed hot, wet kisses against the slope of her shoulder. He licked a path to her breast and bit lightly on one nipple as the candlelight flickered against her coppery skin, reflecting the flame.
Mia's hands drifted, pulling at the button on the top of his jeans. He watched her, holding his breath, hoping when she finally touched him it wouldn’t send him instantly to the breaking point.
Cy broke free, pushing his jeans and boxers quickly down and off before taking her again in his arms. She melted against him, her mouth answering the ravenous hunger of his own. Mia stroked him which made him surge harder to the point of pain. He was trying to be gentle, but the feel of her naked body was driving him mad.
His fingers slipped into her wetness again and again with a faint pressure. Mia quivered, making a small sound in her throat that made him smile. His calloused finger stroked her gently until. she convulsed, her climax taking her as she cried out.
“That’s one. This time we are going to try it differently.” He lifted her in his arms. “I’m going to make love to you on the bed. No water. Just you,” Cy said as he carried her out into the bedroom and lowered her onto the mattress. Her eyes were like dark pools of melted chocolate as her body trembled from the aftershocks of her orgasm.
No woman had ever made him feel like this, and he knew no other woman ever would. He kissed a path across her flat stomach. “Tell me to stop if I need to.”
Mia pulled his body to settle between her legs.
There was a snap of electricity as their bare skin touched. She was so beautiful, naked, and flushed with desire…for him. She angled her body so his erection pressed against her.
“Open your mind.” She laid hands on his temple. “See the colors I see when I’m with you.”
As he pushed inside her, suddenly, he saw what she was talking about. Jeweled colors. Rainbow colors flashed behind his eyes. All he could do was nod, as she took him deeper, now joined body and soul.
Cy began a strong steady pace as their passions built, growing every second. She was so tight and hot. Her lush mouth parted as he stroked deeper, and she sucked in shallow breaths. The tension spiraled in him and he knew they were both close to the edge.
He pulled out, then slowly slid back, feeling the sensation, and felt her body jerk in reaction. The colors intensified to a saturation he’d never seen before.
“I love you,” he said against her cheek as he emptied himself. She shuddered again in release around him.
Cy felt the pain drain away. Everything he’d experienced from his past, every blow of pain from his father disappeared as Mia took it into her body like she was destined to do, replacing it instead with her love.
“I love you, Mia,” he whispered.
Chapter 17
Biting into a bagel and cream cheese, Mia washed it down with orange juice. Cy pulled his -T-shirt and jeans out of the dryer and handed Mia her warm clothes. He sat shirtless next to her in a camp chair and took a sip of scalding coffee, wincing at the hot liquid. He sat quietly for a long moment and ran a thumb over the lip of his cup.
She wasn’t sure of the word but it felt…domestic.
As if reading her mind, Cy said, “Mia, I want you to move in with me. I have a lot of reasons, starting with making sure, every night, that you’re safe. I mean, it was nice of Mickey to let you have the basement, but it’s a basement and I just—”
“Okay.” She took another bite, stood, and dropped her plate in the sink.
He rose and walked toward her. “Before you say no, I want you to...what did you say?” Cy stopped, his mouth hung open as he took the -T-shirt Mia offered.
She ruffled her hand through his curly hair, and then patted it back into place. “I said okay. I can’t imagine why I would want to stay in that cold basement when I could stay here with my hot fireman.” She grinned, enjoying the look on his face as she dragged the words out.
“Exactly.” He tugged the shirt over his head.
“Didn’t expect me, half-empty to agree with you, did you Mr. Half-full?” She laughed and put the rest of the dishes into the dishwasher. “I guess you’re starting to rub off on me. I’m beginning to believe in this happiness thing.”
Cy’s cell phone rang. He picked it up off the table, looked at the caller’s name, and then answered. “Captain?”
His brows knit together in a frown as he fidgeted with the rough edge of the table. He paused and sat the coffee cup slowly back down. “Jesus. Did they go to his house?”
Cy ended the call and ran a hand up through his hair. “They’ve connected the fires to Jason Branson. He works at the auto shop where the investigators have linked the paint cans from the fire scenes.”
Mia reached out and squeezed his hand. “I don’t know anyone by that name. If I knew who that was I would have told you.”
“Shit. Stupid.” Cy took another unsteady breath. His hands were visibly shaking. He scrubbed a hand over his face. “I should have seen it before now.”
“Cy, I don’t understand.”
“It wasn’t you that he was after, it was me. All this time I thought that you were the link. The fire at your house. He was trying to kill me. And then Sally and Mary. Oh, God.”
She was still confused. “I don’t understand.”
“Remember the car crash I told you about? Driving drunk, my dad killed Jason Branson’s parents. Every time I ran into him in town, for years, he told me that we would pay for what we’d done.”
“You didn’t do anything.”
“But we had the same last name. Jason wanted both my father and me to feel the same pain.” Cy closed his eyes and shook his head. “But what he didn’t understand is that my father could care less about what happened to me or Jason’s family.”
“Your father has no remorse?” Mia couldn’t believe how this man she’d never met could be related to the man standing in front of her.
“None at all, but how could Jason do this? Why didn’t he just come after me? Mary never hurt anyone in her life.”
Mia tried to make him see. “He needs help. Have they found him?”
“No. They went to his house, but he wasn’t there.” His gaze darted to the door. “I have to go see my father. He might be in danger.”
“I’ll go with you.” Mia grabbed her purse.
****
Cy gazed at the broken outdoor furniture which was scattered around the lawn of the run-down grey rambler. Dead grass and weeds overtook what may have once been a lawn, and empty beer cans overflowed from dark green garbage bags blocking the walkway.
Cy removed a sack of groceries from the truck bed he headed tow
ard the house where a skinny, underfed black Lab barked mournfully the closer they came. Dry dirt puffed up as the dog tugged against the thick chain which secured him to the porch railing. Cy scratched the dog behind the ears and then handed him a fat, meaty bone from the bag. The dog snapped up the bone and pinned it with its paws, devouring it.
“Here’s where I grew up, complete with the white picket fence and the dog named Boomer,” Cy said with a dark tone to his voice. He kicked a beer can into the yard.
The television inside the trailer was loud enough to be heard through the walls. Cy banged his fist on the broken screen door. “Dad, I have to talk to you.”
“Is that you, Cy? I can't come to the door. My foot's busted.”
Cy pushed open the door and stepped in. He looked back over his shoulder and said to Mia, “You don’t have to come with me.”
“I want to.” Mia reached for his hand.
The house smelled of dirty dishes and urine as the floorboards creaked under their feet.
“I knew you'd help out your old dad. Those idiots over at the food bank said they couldn’t bring anything over ’til tomorrow. What am I supposed to do in the meantime, starve to death?” He eyed the bag in Cy’s arm. “Got beer in there?”
Cy reached in the brown paper bag for the six-pack, took one of the cans off the plastic loop, and handed it to him. His father’s hand trembled as he took the can, popped the tab, and then drew a deep drink. He closed his eyes in bliss.
“You been keeping out of trouble? I haven’t seen you much. I thought you might come and visit me at the hospital, but I guess you were too busy. This your new girlfriend, here?” He raised an eyebrow, exposing a rummy eye.
“I’m here, aren't I?” Cy shifted uneasily to the other foot. “Have you seen Jason Branson recently?”
His father paused. “Why would I see him?”
“They think that he’s behind two recent fires, and he’s targeting us.”
“Us?” His father belched and wiped a hand over his mouth. “Why would he target you?”
“I don’t know, Dad.”
Fighting the Fire Page 16
