“Where are we going?” Not that she cared.
“My house.”
She turned to look at him. Her expression must have conveyed her surprise, because he added, “I want you in my bed, Bluelick. You got a problem with that?”
“No. But I have a bed, too, and my place is closer…” She’d never set foot in his house, but she’d heard early on he’d rented a cabin on the outskirts of town, backed up against the mountains.
“I didn’t say I want you in a bed. I said I want you in my bed.”
There went the electricity again, zinging straight to all her vulnerable places, including a big, frighteningly soft one near the center of her chest. Casual, she reminded herself, and lowered her eyes. That’s when she noticed exactly how much he wanted her in his bed. “Is it hard to wait?”
He grunted. “I’ll manage.”
“Maybe I could”—she reached out and placed her hand high on his thigh, gratified when thick muscles bunched under her palm—“take the edge off?”
“What are you doing?”
She slid her hand down between his legs and nudged his balls. “What does it feel like I’m doing?”
“If you don’t cut that out right now, there’s going to be hell to pay.”
She ran her fingers over the bulge in his jeans. “What will you do, punish me?”
“Goddammit.” He gripped the steering wheel and accelerated.
She stroked the hard ridge, leisurely, and watched a muscle clench in his jaw.
“Damn right I will, right here in the cab of my truck.”
“I thought you wanted me in your bed.”
“There, too. Hang on.”
She bounced in her seat as he whipped the truck into a sharp right turn and steered up a long, tree-lined driveway. Almost home. She stroked faster.
He slammed on the brakes, killed the engine, and pinned her with a hot, dangerous gaze. “I’m warning you now, Bluelick, when I get around this truck, you’d better be holding on to something.”
He was out of the cab before she fully processed his words. An instant later, the passenger door swung open. She reached for the oh-shit handle, but missed because he hit her seat belt release at the same time and turned her sideways in her seat, facing him. One minute she had a head-on view of his predatory expression, the next, her world tilted on its axis. She ended up staring at the ceiling of the truck, the center console supporting her head, her legs up and bent, the heels of her shoes hitched behind the handle above the door. Oh shit, indeed.
She lifted her head and stared between her legs. Josh stood there, cursing as he dug through his wallet. A couple of cards and some cash spilled to the ground when he pulled out a condom, but he didn’t stop to retrieve them. He simply dropped his wallet, tore open the condom, and yanked his jeans down. The sight of him rolling the latex over his huge erection had her scrambling to secure her heels more tightly in their foothold.
Big, blunt fingers tangled in her thong. A quick rip and it fell away. She hung there for a moment—hands clasping the edge of the seat, leg muscles fluttering, personal parts bare and on display—then cried out as he drove into her with a single, universe-shattering thrust.
A galaxy of suns exploded behind her eyelids. Blooded pounded in her ears. Somewhere beyond her own internal whirlwind, she heard his voice. Disjointed words, punctuated by the almost brutal slap of their bodies.
Mine.
That’s what he was saying, over and over. Then her world exploded again, and all she could think was, Yes.
Chapter Thirteen
Sensation slowly trickled back into his extremities. Josh blinked sweat out of his eyes, took stock, and realized he was fucked. He might have looked like the one in the driver’s seat, so to speak, considering he had his hands wrapped around Melody’s ankles, and his cock still gloved in her body, but the wave of possessiveness threatening to drown him told a different story. If the territorial feeling sprang from the temporary physical connection, he wouldn’t be so worried, but it didn’t. He had an uncomfortable suspicion these proprietary instincts had been building from the moment she’d walked over to him in Boone’s and hit him with, You ready to make your move, Chief, or are you just going to stare all night?
Yeah, he’d been headed off this cliff from the start. He turned his head and, because it was right there, kissed the back of her knee. “You okay?”
“I’m not sure.” The soft-edged quality to her voice made him grin, despite himself. “I think I just had an out-of-body experience.”
“That’s funny, ’cause I just had an in-your-body experience.”
She propped herself up on her elbows. He felt the tightening of her abs all the way to the base of his cock. She blew her hair out of her face and sent him a slow smile. “Was it amazing? Because mine was amazing.”
“Bluelick, every second I spend inside your body is amazing.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he wanted to take them back and refine them. He should have said, Every second I spend with you is amazing. But her smile widened and he realized she appreciated the physical validation. Would she appreciate more? Her words from last week floated through his mind: I plan to keep my personal life very, very casual for a while. I’m not getting seriously involved again unless everything falls into place simply and easily.
Shit.
As much as he enjoyed giving her physical validation, his exhausted dick couldn’t provide any more just now. He pinched the rolled edge of the condom to keep it in place. “Sit tight. I’m going to pull out, but I’m not done with you yet.”
Her eyes went round. “I can’t possibly…”
“You can. You owe me a taste, remember?” Plus, he wasn’t an idiot. He knew what she wanted from him. He was the anti-Roger, someone insatiable for her and not afraid to demonstrate the depth of his cravings. An antidote to years of good-girl patience and self-conscious efforts to subjugate her physical needs. He withdrew, dragged his jeans up, and dropped to his knees. Knowing she would be sensitive, he started at the backs of her thighs, pressing kisses along those slim columns before moving on to the soft, yielding curves of her ass.
She murmured “please,” which he chose to interpret as, “Please suck on my clit until your lips go numb.”
He obliged, moving his mouth between her legs. The sweet, salty aftertaste of her orgasm coated his tongue, along with the residue of lubricant from the condom. He ran his hands up the underside of her legs, pressed forward, and unhitched her feet from the handhold above the door. Then he lowered her legs. She uttered something—all he heard was his name and “sweet baby Jesus”—and crossed her ankles behind him. The heels of her shoes dug into his back like spurs, urging him on.
She wanted more? No problem. He shifted lower and speared his tongue down, gripping her hips when she tried to jerk away.
“Nnn…”
“You’re going to give it all up to me sooner or later. You know that, right?”
She hitched in a breath. “I don’t think—”
He circled his tongue dangerously close to the no-fly zone.
Her body tensed and her breath came out on a shudder. “Possibly. Maybe. Later.”
He laughed and ran his tongue along her center. She arched up to meet him and cried out as he got to work on her swollen, throbbing clit. One flick a second. Her thighs clamped against his head. Her fingernails raked his scalp, and she rocked her hips with complete abandon.
He met her enthusiasm with plenty of his own, and sent her up, up, and over the peak. Before she floated back down, he gathered her into his arms and carried her into the house. Yeah, his wallet was strewn all over his front yard, but that was the beauty of living on the outskirts of town…everything would be there tomorrow.
“Where are we going?” Her words brushed his neck like a feather. “And why can’t I walk there?”
“I already told you where we’re going.” He mounted the stairs. “I’m carrying you because I like having my hands on you.”
�
��I hope you like a strained back, because that’s what you’re going to get, lugging a hundred and eighteen pounds up a flight of stairs.”
“I’m a trained firefighter. I’m good for at least another five pounds.”
“Um…” She drew back, looked up at him, and gnawed her lip in a distinctly guilty way.
“What?”
“I gave you my driver’s license weight. I’m really a hundred and twenty-two pounds.”
He pretended to stumble on the final step and she let out a little scream and clutched at him. Just to hear her laugh, he tossed her over his shoulder in the classic fireman’s carry, and then, steps later, dumped her onto his bed. She bounced once and, still giggling, wiggled her way to the center. He smoothed her skirt down her legs, because as much as enjoyed her body, he really didn’t intend to claim it again until he’d fed her and given her a moment or two to relax. Still, there were a few details to see to.
“I forgot something.”
“Did you?” She raised her brows. “My underwear, out on your lawn?”
“No. They’re good there, as far as I’m concerned. I forgot this…” He leaned in, balanced his weight on his arms, and lowered himself over her until their lips were mere millimeters apart.
Her gaze dropped to his mouth. “Oh.” She licked her lips. “Shame on you.”
He rubbed his lips over hers. “You’ll have to teach me a lesson.”
“Hmm.” She deepened the kiss, sliding her tongue into his mouth, winding it playfully around his. Playful or not, he felt himself sinking, especially when she reached up, twined her arm around his neck, and held on to him. Her other hand found his cheek. Her fingertips traced the line of his jaw, and the sheer tenderness of the gesture tightened his chest. Not wanting to crush her, he turned so they ended up on their sides, legs tangled, the soft weight of one breast pillowed against his arm. She pressed a quick kiss to his lips, his chin, and then snuggled her face into his neck and sighed.
“You sure showed me, Bluelick.”
“I hope so.”
He rubbed his chin over her hair, sneaked a quick inhale of her shampoo. He’d missed her. Plain and simple, and it suddenly seemed stupid to have imposed an almost weeklong waiting period in the name of keeping things casual.
After a moment she raised her head. He watched her eyes scan the room. “Nice bedroom.”
He glanced around the utilitarian space. Dark wood furniture, a bookcase and a couple boxes of books he hadn’t bothered to unpack, midnight-blue curtains over the windows flanking the bed—thick and dark enough to block out sunlight if he needed to grab sleep in the middle of the day—and the bedspread in matching blue tones. Not a hell of a lot else. “It does the job. Big enough for my bed while still allowing some space to move.”
“I love all the pictures and knickknacks. So homey.”
He reached under her skirt and pinched her butt. “Take notes, smart-ass. This is how a straight guy decorates.”
…
This is how someone who’s not planning to stick around decorates, a voice inside her head corrected. She rolled out of his reach, settled onto her stomach a few inches away, and rested her chin on her folded arms. The possibility of his leaving depressed her so she closed her eyes and pushed it out of her mind. “It was awfully nice of Tyler to buy a round. Must make you feel appreciated.”
He shifted on the bed. Then his hands found her shoulders and started kneading. “I like how you did it better.”
“Ohhh, that feels good.” So good she didn’t protest when he lowered the zipper of her dress and unsnapped her bra. “Do you think anyone in Rawley’s noticed what we were up to?”
His hands continued to work their magic down her back. “We’re probably the talk of the town right now.”
Maybe, but the knowledge didn’t particularly bother her—not after having half the town believe she was a prude. She really did get a shameful thrill out of finally having a sex life worthy of discussion. She opened her mouth to reiterate as much, but then stopped, because of course, he might not feel the same way. He’d been off duty and on his own time, but would their shenanigans cause problems for him on the job? It sounded like he and Buchanan were already butting heads over the barn fire. Her heart sank at the thought. She opened her eyes and craned her neck to look at him. “Could people gossiping about us get you in trouble at work?”
“Nope.” The lack of concern conveyed in his single word reply calmed her worry. She would have relaxed back to her original position, but he used the moment to pull her dress down her arms. When he had her bare to the waist, he slid his hands along her spine. “Any trouble I have at work is strictly related to the job.”
“Then I think you’re trouble-free. Last I heard, which was tonight, people were buying you drinks and telling you what a great job you’re doing.”
“Yeah, people.” He swept her hair aside and massaged the back of her neck, and she barely stifled a sigh. “Buchanan thinks I’m overreacting to the recent fires because I have some vendetta against Justin.” His hands moved to her shoulders. “Pointing out to Buchanan that he, himself, had motive to set the blazes in order to collect insurance wasn’t the most diplomatic moment of my life.” A hint of amusement tinged his voice, but she heard irritation, too. She tried to raise her head to look at him, but he held her in place with the weight of his hands.
She released a breath and relented. “How could initiating an investigation be an overreaction? Wouldn’t his insurance company require an investigation before paying on the policy?”
He continued methodically dissolving her spine, vertebra by vertebra. “According to Buchanan, the payout under the policy isn’t much, so they might have been satisfied with an incident report from me indicating wet hay as the cause. And it might be, though I don’t think so.”
“The sheriff is still investigating both fires?”
“Yep. They sent everything to a lab in Crestwood, and I don’t know the ETA on results, but if the lab reports come back clean or inconclusive on the presence of accelerants, I bet Buchanan finds a reason to let me go.”
“I’ll bet he finds a battle on his hands if he tries.” Something with sharp claws and ragged wings flew around in her stomach at the thought.
His lips caressed the back of her neck. “You gonna lead the charge, Bluelick?”
Any tension left in her body immediately flowed south. “You might be surprised who leads the charge. I know you see yourself as an outsider around here, but the citizens of this town are very loyal to those who earn their trust.”
“I see.” He kissed the spot between her shoulder blades. “Are you suggesting I’ve earned trust?”
She made a show of examining her cuticles while tamping down on the urge to squirm her hips. “I think Ms. Van Hendler trusts you. You rescued her baby.”
“Hmm.” He tugged her dress down past her waist and planted a hand at the small of her back when she tried to roll over. She shivered as cool air swept across her skin. “Anyone else?”
“Oh, I’m sure Mr. Cranston trusts you, too.”
“Seems like I’m doing well with the sixty-five and over population, but what about with the twenty-something bad-girl demographic?” He ran his tongue down her spine. “Have I made any headway there?”
“You’ve made…some.” She stumbled over the words and closed her eyes to keep them from crossing.
“Speaking of bad girls, I promised you punishment, didn’t I?” His wicked mouth moved lower, to tease the twin dimples on either side of her spine.
“You did.” She barely managed the two little words, because he slipped his hand between her legs and commenced a whole different kind of massage. Now she squirmed. It was downright frightening how quickly he had her perched on the edge again, needy and desperate and too far-gone to care about anything except getting some relief.
“If I don’t deliver on my promises, I’m not very trustworthy.” He kissed one bare cheek. Then the other. And then his tongue darted b
etween, and—
Wha—? She raised her head and whipped it around so fast she almost hurt herself. “Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer to give me a time-out, or—”
He ignored her and repeated the move, while the hand between her legs continued to stroke, stroke, stroke.
“Oh God.” She lowered her face to the mattress. “I’ve been a bad, bad girl.”
His laugh reached her ears a second before his words. “Don’t worry. I won’t be too tough on you.”
Apparently not, because his brand of punishment left her boneless and gasping. As he kissed his way up her spine and her body savored the last trembling aftershocks, another thought filtered into her mind. Being bad with him felt so right. Simple and easy—like everything just fell into place.
Chapter Fourteen
“How’s retirement treating you?”
Josh stared at his kitchen ceiling and counted to five. “Good one, sir. The joke never gets old.”
His former chief chuckled at the other end of the phone. “I’m not your boss anymore. You don’t have to ‘sir’ me. But indulge me with an honest answer. Is heading up a small department the kind of change you wanted?”
“It’s definitely different.” He topped off his coffee and, out of habit, looked through the kitchen window at the sky. Eternal blue with high, white clouds. No rain. He adjusted his mental fire risk meter to moderate. “I neglected to factor in local politics.”
“You deal with politics anywhere you go. What happened? You cite a city council member for burning leaves without a permit?”
“No. I pissed off the mayor by suggesting a couple of recent fires weren’t accidents. Then I pissed him off more by being right.” The chief’s assumption that the issue would be minor rankled, and Josh had to admit he took some satisfaction in disabusing his mentor of the notion that the job consisted of shining the trucks and giving schoolkids fire safety talks.
Light Her Fire Page 14
