Dallas Fire & Rescue: Strong Hearts (Kindle Worlds Novella)

by Maddy Barone

  “My place?” he asked.

  The gravel in his voice made her shiver. She kept her gaze on his. “Yes.”

  He took off. After a block, his speed lessened and he drove sedately.

  “Not in a hurry anymore?” she asked.

  “Honey, if I drove as fast as I wanted we’d either be home in ten minutes, or arrested. I’m not spending my dessert time in jail.”

  “Dessert time?” she gurgled.

  He hunched over the wheel, eyes fixed on the road, and cleared his throat. “Dessert time,” he affirmed.

  Boy, she couldn’t wait to hear him use that low, intimate growl in her ear when she was under him. If she didn’t direct her attention somewhere else, she was going to jump him right here on the road. She took a deep breath and eased an inch away, casting about for something else to talk about.

  “I feel bad for Dusty. Were he and Cherilyn together long?”

  Brutus shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe four months?”

  Denise wasn’t sure if that was a long time or not. “It’s too bad.”

  Brutus snorted. “No, it’s not. He deserves better. And he was right: she never would have stood living on the reservation.”

  “What reservation? Where is Dusty from?”

  “Originally, he’s from South Dakota, but he grew up in Minneapolis.” He shuddered. “Too damn cold for me.” He waved a hand. “Do you remember at supper when I asked if Wolfe had told Cherilyn about his plans?”

  “Vaguely.”

  “His plan is to go back to the reservation in South Dakota and start up an ambulance service there. The reservation is big, like thirty-five hundred square miles, and there’s not a lot of healthcare facilities in local neighborhoods. Wolfe thinks another ambulance service would save lives. The people there are poor. No money, no jobs to earn any, and the houses are substandard. Like not everyone has indoor plumbing. It’s like a third world from what Wolfe says.” His mouth twisted in distaste. “Can you imagine someone like Cherilyn living in a place like that?”

  She couldn’t. “I guess you’re right. If Dusty is going to do that, he needs a strong woman who loves him and cares about what’s important to him.”

  “Damn straight.”

  He cranked the wheel to turn onto a residential street, and even though he was in a suit coat, she could see the bulge of muscle in his upper arm press against the fabric. Anticipation, hot and heavy, shuddered through her.

  A few minutes later the truck came to a stop in front of a small, single level house. A streetlight showed that it was painted pale gray with black shutters on the two windows to either side of the front door. The grass had been recently mowed; she could see the stripes in the grass left by the mower. It looked like a plain, well cared for home.

  Brutus turned off the truck and looked at her. “Home sweet home,” he said, before getting out and coming around to her door to help her down.

  Something in his face made her think he felt the same anticipation she did. Or maybe it was the way he hurried her up the walk to the door. He unlocked the door but paused.

  “I better go in first,” he said. “Rowdy doesn’t like strangers in his house, and he might not remember you.”

  For a moment Denise couldn’t think who Rowdy could be, but the rapid click of nails on linoleum followed by the full-throated barking of a big dog reminded her that Brutus had adopted Diesel from the place where she worked. Brutus opened the door, dropping into a slight crouch so the dog couldn’t get past him, and pushed into the dark door. Denise waited until lights flipped on inside, then stepped up into house. The dog’s barking went from joyous welcome to frenzied warning.

  “Down, boy,” Brutus yelled. “This is Dee. She’s our friend.”

  Denise stood perfectly still, allowing the dog to calm. In only a minute his growls faded and the broad black nose sniffed her offered hand. The dog she remembered as Diesel was just as ugly as he had been in the shelter, but his weight had grown to a healthy range, his short coat gleamed, and his eyes were bright. Brutus had treated him right. Denise found that so sexy she had to fan herself.

  “I’ll put him out,” Brutus said. “Be right back.”

  Alone, Denise looked around. The living room was simply furnished. The couch was long and deep, the brown leather worn and scarred by dog claws. A recliner, a sedate brown microfiber, was positioned for the best view of the big flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Brutus must be a meticulous housekeeper. There wasn’t any evidence of dust on the end table or crumbs on the beige carpet. She kicked off her heels with a sigh of relief. She was never wearing those again.

  Brutus came back in and stopped, staring at her feet. “Oh,” he said with obvious disappointment.

  “What?”

  “I was looking forward to seeing you wear those.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “Sexy shoes,” he explained, rather obscurely. Apparently seeing his explanation didn’t clear things up, he went on. “You. In those shoes. Nothing but the shoes.”

  Comprehension dawned. “Oh! Right.” She glanced around the living room, faintly embarrassed. “Maybe later.”

  His ears turned pink. “Would you like a tour of the place?”

  Embarrassment faded. She went to him and stood on tiptoe to lace her hands behind his neck. “Later. For now, just show me the bedroom.”

  Chapter Seven

  Brutus shuddered under the light touch of her fingers on the back of his neck. Bedroom. He had been waiting since that first night in Billie’s to get her into his bedroom. Suppressing the urge to throw her over his shoulder and run down the hall to his room, he made himself smile as he reached for her hands. She was so sexy. He drew them down from the back of his neck to press a kiss into the palm of each one, staring into her eyes.

  “It’s this way,” he whispered, and tugged her gently out of the living room to the bedroom at the end of the hall.

  He let go of one of her hands long enough to flip the light on. He saw her glance quickly around. Thank God Alma had been in this morning to do the weekly cleaning. The room was tidy, the bed freshly made. Her gaze came back to him and she smiled. That smile promised a million things.

  Brutus’s heart bounded in his chest. He pulled her close. The simple sound of the skirt of her dress rustling as it was crushed between them made him shudder with want. Or maybe it was the press of her breasts against him, or the scent of her hair that made him hard. Hell, everything about her made him hard. He had to get a hold of himself so he didn’t go too fast. Denise deserved to have him make love to her, not just fuck her.

  Her head fell back and she opened her eyes to gaze at him. “Oh, Brutus,” she murmured, her voice husky. “You are so hot.”

  Me? he wanted to say, but his mouth was too busy kissing her to get it out. He deepened the kiss, sweeping his hand up and down her back, in search of a zipper. He found nothing but sleek fabric. He broke the kiss and leaned a little back to look at the front of the dress. The rich brown fabric gleamed over the curve of her breasts.

  “What” she asked.

  Her lips were red from his kiss, which was such a beautiful sight he had to kiss her again. Her tongue glided over his and his cock somehow got even harder. He groped almost frantically over her back, dying to get her out of the dress. Maybe it fastened in front. He slid his hand to the deep V of the dress’s neck, searching for a zipper, or a hook, or something that would let him get the thing off of her so he could see the real Denise.

  It struck him abruptly that she must think he was pawing her with no finesse. The heat in his cheeks turned scalding as mortification joined passion.

  She pulled her lips away from his suddenly still ones. “Brutus? What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he blurted. He took the neck of her dress between his thumb and forefinger and gave it a little tug. “I just don’t want to wreck this trying to get it off you.” He hesitated, looking into her eyes. “And I don’t want to rush this. I want it to be perfect for y
ou.”

  He froze in horror when her eyes got shiny with tears.

  Denise blinked back the tears, her heart squeezing. Could he be any better? No other guy she’d been with had told her he wanted sex to be perfect for her. She lifted one arm and made a quarter turn in the circle of his arms to show the zipper down the side of the bodice. “Right there, Brutie. I can’t wait to get out of this dress.”

  He gently undressed her. First, he unzipped the dress and eased it over her head, turning to lay it carefully over the back of a chair by the bed. Next, he pulled the straps of the full slip over her shoulders, and the wisp of nylon and spandex slipped over her hips to the floor. She stepped out of it and stood before him in only her bra and panties. The way he caught his breath as he looked at her helped dissolve any shyness. Brutus’s craggy face held an expression of appreciation. She loved that expression.

  “Brutus, don’t you feel a little overdressed?”

  He grinned and began loosening his tie. She lightly slapped his hands away. “Let me.”

  He stood perfectly still while she unknotted his tie and pulled it free. She unbuttoned his coat and he shrugged it off his shoulders. She laid it over the dress on the chair and turned back to examine him. His dress shirt was thin and white. She had seen him in tight T-shirts stretched over his muscular chest, but somehow, that white button-down shirt was sexier. She unfastened the buttons one and by one.

  She sighed happily. “I love a nice, hairy chest.”

  His chest vibrated under her fingers when he laughed. “That’s me--Mr. Hairy.”

  She tunneled her fingers through the crisp hair that covered his chest. The contrast between the wiry hair and the heat of the smooth skin beneath was delicious. After pulling the shirt off, she stood back to take him in. He was gorgeous. Each muscle in his chest and belly was sculpted to male perfection. The hair she loved spread over his chest and narrowed to a slender arrow that disappeared under the tailored black trousers. The only imperfection was a purple-blue shadow on left side of his ribcage. She laid gentle fingers over it.

  “What’s this?”

  “Nothing.”

  “It’s a bruise,” she murmured. “How did you do that to yourself?”

  One of his burly shoulders lifted in a shrug. “I didn’t get out of the way in time.”

  Her fingers stilled. “Get out of the way of what? A fist?” She looked up at his face. “You were in a fight?”

  He waved a hand casually before sliding it around the back of her neck. “It was nothing. Kiss me.”

  Kissing him was no hardship. He was so big and strong, but so gentle with her. While they kissed, she undid his belt. When she slid the zipper down, he broke off the kiss to watch her fingers with an avid, intense gaze. She hesitated for a moment, then opened his trousers and tugged them down past his hips. She gaped at the thick ridge thrusting against the plain white cotton of his briefs. Liquid heat surged between her legs.

  At her gasp, he chortled. When she looked up at him, he grinned at her. “See something you like?” he asked.

  “Yeah, but I’d like to see it better.”

  “There’s only one way to do that, darlin’.”

  She slipped her thumbs into the waistband of his briefs on either side of his hips and cast him a demure smile. “If that’s a challenge, I’m up for it.”

  He nudged his hips forward. “So am I.”

  “So I see.”

  When she’d dragged his briefs down, he kicked them free and stood naked before her. She had to stop and just admire him for a minute. It made sense that a big guy would be big all over, and Brutus was perfectly proportioned. With his broad shoulders, sculpted, hairy chest, hard, narrow waist, and thighs thick with muscle, he could be the poster boy for any hardcore gym. She admired all those things, but at the moment, her attention was fixed on his cock. Even it looked muscular. Thick and long, it stood proudly, pointed at her. A wave of such intense longing swept over her that she felt almost lightheaded.

  “I want that,” she muttered thickly.

  Brutus stepped close. “It’s yours, Dee.”

  When she caressed him, he was silky soft, hot, and hard. Her hand just barely closed around his girth. What would he feel like inside her? She wanted to find out. Maybe he wanted more foreplay, but she wanted him right now. She lifted a knee and arched to back to press her core against him. It wasn’t until then she realized she was still wearing her panties and bra. She dropped her leg and stepped back to tear at the hooks on her bra.

  “Good grief,” she muttered, frustrated.

  Brutus put a hand on her shoulder.

  “My stupid bra. Get it off.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  There was a smile in his voice. His fingers were delicate on her back as he found the hooks and unclasped them. The bra slithered down her arms to the floor. Brutus bent to run his lips over a nipple to the underside of her breast.

  “Ouch,” he said with surprise and sympathy. “There are red marks here. I didn’t know bras did that.”

  She shivered as he kissed the marks under her breasts. “Brutus?”

  He lifted his head to look at her inquiringly.

  “Do you mind if we skip the play for now?” She caught his erection and pumped her fist up and down him. “I want this in me. Right now. Okay?”

  He stared for a moment before closing his eyes. “Thank God,” he said simply.

  In a movement so fast it was almost a blur, he yanked open the covers on the bed, swooped her up in his arms, and put her on the mattress. He put one knee on the bed and froze.

  “Condom!” he yelped.

  He jumped up and lunged for the night stand. As he jerked open the drawer, she took the opportunity to peel her panties off and toss them on the floor. When he came back, she was waiting for him with a smile and open legs.

  “Beautiful,” he growled. He got on the bed and settled between her legs. “I’ll be gentle,” he promised.

  She felt him press against her opening. “I’m ready.”

  She was so ready. He pushed himself inside her, one hard inch at a time until she was holding all of him inside her. He filled her so completely that even without any friction of movement, a hint of orgasm teased her. She curled her legs to tap her heels into his taut ass.

  “What are you waiting for?” she demanded. “Giddy-up!”

  He sounded strained. “Just wanted to let you get used to me.”

  “Please move, Brutus.”

  He moved. His hips curled in gentle, steady nudges that only taunted her. To encourage him, she matched his rhythm, pushing herself up to meet each nudge. The hint of orgasm swelled. In only a minute he lost some of his careful control. Each time he thrust, her pending orgasm grew.

  “That’s good,” she cried. “Oh, Brutus, more!”

  “Anything you want,” he panted.

  His arms slid under her back, hands curving over her shoulders to hold her securely as he pounded into her.

  “You.” She raised a hand to touch his cheek. “I want you.”

  “You have me. You can have anything you want from me.”

  She matched his thrusts, driving the orgasm higher. Almost there. Her breath turned choppy. This was wonderful. Awesome. Amazing. Absolutely mind blowing.

  “Brutus,” she moaned. “Faster. Please, fast— Oh!”

  Her voice morphed into a wordless scream as her body convulsed in the hardest orgasm she had ever experienced. Vaguely, through the waves of rapture twisting her, she wondered if a smaller man might have been thrown off her from the violence of her release. Not Brutus. He just hung on and kept thrusting through her orgasm. She was just starting to come down when he threw his head back and shouted his own release. After a full minute of shuddering over her on stiff arms, he collapsed beside her on the bed.

  She turned her head to see him wipe sweat from his forehead with trembling fingers.

  “Brutus, that was unbelievable. You are marvelous.”

  Brutus stared
at Denise with amazement, tremors still running through him. “Me?” he croaked. “You are the marvelous one. That – you—” he broke off to suck in a breath. “I have no words,” he finished, feeling a little lame. “I mean, I’ve wanted you since that first time I laid eyes on you at Billie’s, but tonight was better than anything I dreamed.” And I dreamed about you and what I’d do you when you were naked in this bed plenty, he added silently to himself.

  He rolled over onto his back, one arm still under her shoulders, to catch his breath. Damn. She’d wrecked him. Had he ever come so hard before? And with so little foreplay? He rolled up on his elbow to lean over her.

  “We barely even kissed,” he accused.

  She giggled.

  “No, I mean it,” he insisted. “I hardly even touched you.”

  Her eyes were warm as she smiled up at him. “We can play next time, Brutie.”

  Next time. He liked the sound of that. “Deal. Hey, I’m hungry.”

  Her mouth fell open. “Hungry? After that fancy French meal?”

  He shrugged. “I’m always hungry. Where’s that chocolate mousse?”

  Her face went blank before horror swept over it. “Oh, no! I left it in the truck.”

  “Oh?” He tried to sound innocent. “Was your mind on something else?”

  “You,” she said, regaining her composure. “And now, chocolate mousse, if it hasn’t spoiled.”

  Pleasure curved his mouth in a grin. He loved that she wasn’t the sort to coyly bat her eyelashes and dance around what she wanted. “It’s not that hot out, and it hasn’t been out there all that long. Since we skipped right to the main event.” He tried to sound stern, but he ended up laughing. “I’ll go get it.”

  He went into the bathroom to dispose of the condom and clean up before grabbing a pair of running shorts from his dresser. “I have T-shirts here if you want to put something on besides your dress,” he called.