Coming In Hot Box Set

by Gina Kincade

  Opening her mouth to tell him they needed to slow down, she heard herself say in that whiskey-laced passion voice she hadn’t known she possessed, “Please tell me you have condoms.”

  He laughed, his face by candlelight so beautiful, it produced a deep aching need inside her. “What? The upscale porn princess doesn’t carry them in her purse?”

  She laughed too, and wrapped her arms around his neck so she could drag him down to kiss him. “Anybody ever tell you what a jerk you are?” She asked between kisses.

  “Two or three people just about every day.” He rolled gracefully to his feet and swept her up into his arms. Rosie flailed at first – the loss of control of movement of her own body both scared and excited her.

  Jack carried her down the hallway and kicked open a door on the right leading into his bedroom. Or what she presumed must be his bedroom. He’d put some sort of heavy backing on the curtains to block out the light, so pitch blackness shrouded the room.

  “Do you even know where the bed is?” she asked, just as he hit the edge of the mattress and they tumbled together onto it.

  “Does that answer your question?” He crawled on top of her, finding her mouth with his by feel and all talk ceased.

  She managed to get his denim jacket and tee shirt off as he removed her tank top and bra.

  Rolling on top of him, she pressed her breasts against him as she leaned down to kiss him, her hair falling in a curtain around their faces.

  “I think this is the craziest, goddamn thing I’ve ever done,” she whispered, coming up for air. “We barely know each other, and worse, we have to work together after this is over.”

  “Do you care?” He cupped her face with his hands and gently stroked her cheeks with his thumbs. She strained to see him, but could make out nothing through the impenetrable darkness. Making love in the total dark was almost like wearing a mask. Maybe she could pretend she wasn’t Rosie D’Angelo, paramedic, having sex with Jack Grady, her paramedic partner. They could be two strangers. People who didn’t know each other in real life. Or maybe not.

  “I’m scared this will ruin everything,” she confessed. “Everybody turns against me eventually. I want to take this moment and run with it. Screw the future. But that’s so hard.”

  “If it helps, I know that feeling. I live with that feeling every single day,” he said.

  God, she wished she could see his expression. “We have to talk about this.” She lowered her face toward his. “But not now, okay?”

  “Okay,” he said with such tenderness she wanted to wrap herself around him and never let go.

  His hands still rested against her cheeks. She locked her fingers around his wrists and pushed them away slowly until his arms lay outspread on the mattress. Moving down so she lay on top of him, she let go of his wrists and gasped when he interlocked his fingers with hers and squeezed. Their kiss turned gentle and exploratory, drawing out and out. He made no move to unbutton her jeans or his. He held still on the bed, holding her hands and letting her kiss him. This was no casual hook up for him. How could he be so unbelievably gentle with her if all he wanted was to get inside her pants?

  Rosie, stop thinking!

  The rapid rise and fall of his chest against hers gave testament to his growing excitement, yet he continued to let her set their pace.

  She ached to feel him inside her. This was pure agony.

  “Now would be a great time to find those condoms.” She took his earlobe between her teeth and gave it a quick tug.

  Outside, the rain pelted against the window, but inside it was warm and safe.

  He sat, wrapping his arms around her, moving her so her pussy pressed against his erection. She rubbed against him, resenting the layers of clothing separating them.

  “Nightstand,” he whispered, and at first she had no earthly idea what the hell he meant, but when he reached around her, fumbling against a piece of furniture beside the bed, it clicked.

  A drawer slid open. Crackling sounds of foil.

  Rosie rolled off him onto the mattress, lying flat on her back. She unzipped her jeans and slid them over her hips, taking her panties with them. She kicked them off the bed where they fell to the floor in a satisfying rustle of fabric.

  God, it felt great to be naked. She was so aroused, she ached. Pressing two fingers against her wet slit gave some relief, but what she really wanted was Jack inside her. Pumping hard.

  “Rosie?” Her name was a plea from the darkness as he reached to find her.

  He crawled on top of her, and she wrapped her legs around his waist, locking her ankles, her heels pressed against his ass.

  The tip of his cock nudged against her, and he swore desperately under his breath.

  “I want to go slow but, Jesus Christ, I want you so bad!” He thrust into her, making her gasp and clutch at his shoulders. She dug her fingers into his warm, muscled flesh, straining against him. God, he felt fucking good.

  They rocked together, breathing hard. She dug her heels into his ass.

  “Faster,” she urged. “Harder. Come on, Jack. Slow is for other people. We like speed. Pretend we’re in the squad racing to an emergency.”

  “You’re going to make me come way before I want to,” he warned, laughing in her ear, but he obeyed her.

  His thrusts deepened as he drove himself into her. She hung onto him, meeting him with her body as they established a punishing, pleasurable rhythm.

  The bedsprings squeaked as the rocked together in the dark.

  “Hot!” He gasped. “You are so – goddamn – hot!”

  The ability to form coherent sentences abandoned her the harder and faster he went. All she could do was hang on and try to breathe as exquisite pressure built up and up inside her.

  The world narrowed to Jack and the bed. Him inside of her. Their sweaty bodies pressed together as he murmured encouragement in her ear.

  “Please?” he begged. “Please, Rosie. Come for me!”

  At first his words made no sense – just sweet nonsense in her ear, but when he pressed his lips to her cheek before capturing her mouth with his, she understood.

  A shuddering, gorgeous release plowed through her, arching her back and making her cry out.

  “That’s it,” he crooned as he kissed her. “Oh, God, that’s it.”

  He stiffened against her, his muscles cording beneath her fingers. She dug her nails into his skin and squeezed his cock with her pussy hard as she could.

  He gasped out her name and shuddered before burying his face in her neck, breathing heavily.

  She held him close, cradling him against her as she struggled to regain her senses. Breathing would be good. Hello, toes! She never really felt her toes until after orgasm. Must be all the blood rushing to every extremity. Whatever caused it, she liked it.

  She relaxed her legs, sliding them off his hips so she could curl her toes against the comforter and stretch luxuriously. The first glimmers of doubt whispered inside her, but she drove them back. No. She was not going to regret this. Not ever.

  Jack pressed a grateful kiss against her neck before rolling over onto his back.

  “Well, I’ve never done that with a partner before,” he announced, and the two of them convulsed with helpless laughter. Maybe they’d been stupid, but goddamn it, they’d had fun. Regret was for the other people. Nothing to do but move ahead, free of guilt and open to whatever the future brought.

  He put an arm around her, drawing her close so she rested her head on his shoulder. She placed her palm flat on his chest. His strong, steady heartbeat lent her courage and made her believe everything would work out.

  Jack’s breathing slowed. Falling asleep maybe?

  Her own eyelids fluttered, and she welcomed the drowsiness. If she slept, she wouldn’t have to talk to him about everything they should have talked about before falling into bed together. Things like how she could heal people with her hands, and how her partners ran screaming into the night to get away from her. She wanted this moment
to last for as long as she could drag it out. The longer she could, the more time she had with Jack before she had to tell him, and risked the chance he, too, would leave her just as everyone who really knew her always had.

  Chapter SEVEN

  Jack opened his eyes thinking it must be around five AM, his usual waking time, but the digital clock on his nightstand showed it was stupid o’clock in the morning. It took him a moment to realize the numbers were also blinking – indicating a power outage. It was hours later than the clock indicated. Now if he could only find his phone, he’d know what the real time was. He reached for the nightstand, shifting in the bed. His thigh brushed against someone else’s leg.

  Whoa! The events of the previous night rushed back to him in a kaleidoscope of memories – mostly featuring Rosie. He’d made love with Rosie!

  He switched on the nightstand lamp and rolled over.

  Rosie lay huddled beneath the comforter, facing him. Sound asleep, she looked vulnerable and soft. Totally unlike her normal, walled-off waking persona. She shifted beneath the covers, exposing the pale tops of her breasts. Thanks to the power outage and his blackout curtains, he’d never seen her naked except for her breasts by candlelight.

  God, he wanted to peel back the comforter and look at her in the light. If only she’d wake. Somehow it seemed too much like an invasion of privacy to stare at her nude body as she slept.

  He bounced on the mattress, then scrambled to a sitting position against the headboard making as much noise as he could.

  Her eyelids jerked up, and when she saw him staring at her, shock filled her blue eyes.

  Jack said, “So three blondes walk into a building.”

  Rosie moaned and covered her face with her pillow.

  “You’d think at least one of them would’ve seen it.” Jack shrugged, then burst out laughing.

  “What the hell is wrong with you that you think these jokes are funny?” Rosie peeked from beneath the pillow, and Jack could see she was struggling not to laugh.

  “I’ll have you know I have a highly sophisticated sense of humor.”

  “Balls,” Rosie said. “Now close your eyes while I try to find my clothes.”

  “Why?” Jack cried. “Because I told a blonde joke I don’t get to see your naked ass? No fair!”

  “Next time maybe you’ll think before you speak.” Rosie said primly.

  Jack threw a dramatic arm over his eyes and groaned. “You’re so mean, Rosie. It was dark last night, and I never got to see anything!”

  “You didn’t need to see. It all went just fine in the dark.”

  “Yeah, but I bet it would be even better in the light. Wanna find out?” He moved his arm and caught a great glimpse of her naked body as she climbed out of the bed.

  Rosie squawked and covered her breasts with her crossed arms, but she was laughing as she did it.

  “I already saw what you’re covering.” Jack fixed his gaze greedily upon the blonde hair between her thighs. “So thanks for this unobstructed view of the stuff I didn’t.”

  Rosie screamed in exasperated frustration and leaped back onto the bed so she could grab her pillow and beat Jack with it.

  “This,” she said, whacking him, “is for every blonde woman on earth.” She hit him again. “That one was for me having to suffer listening to your stupid jokes!” One more hit, straight to the face. “And that’s for sneaking peeks at my hoo haw when I told you to cover your eyes!” She could barely get the words out she laughed so hard.

  “Hoo haw?” Jack nearly strangled on his laughter. “Is that the upscale porn term for pussy? Hoo haw?”

  “Shut up!” She smacked him again with the pillow. “You never let anything go, do you?”

  “Nope,” Jack agreed, tensing to spring. She screeched when he leaped on her and wrestled her to the mattress. He struggled against him, breathing hard, while he stared down at her. “Gotcha.”

  “I could knee you in the crotch right now, Great Eagle. Don’t get too cocky.”

  “You wouldn’t hurt me.”

  “You have no idea what a badass I can be. Let me up.”

  “How about a kiss first?”

  Rosie shook her head. He had her pinned by the wrists as he straddled her body. She glanced down to see his erect cock, and Jack couldn’t tell if she wanted more to laugh or to let him kiss her. So he remained still, staring at her, letting her determine their next move.

  “Jack,” she said, and her face crumpled. Tears shone in her eyes.

  “Rosie, don’t.” Jack let her go immediately.

  When she scrambled to a sitting position, he put his arms around her. She tensed, but instead of breaking free, she buried her face in his shoulder.

  “What the hell have we done?” she whispered. “This is so not going to end well, is it?”

  “Why all the doom and gloom?” He kissed the top of her head gently. “So we slept together. We both wanted it, didn’t we?”

  “Yes. But we didn’t think things through.”

  Jack took a deep breath. He looked at Rosie’s jeans and panties on his bedroom floor. One jeans leg was twisted inside out – an apt metaphor for their relationship. Jesus, why the hell was he getting philosophical over a pair of jeans, for Christ’s sake?

  “You’re afraid this will affect our partnership somehow?” he asked.

  “Oh, come on. It has to. How can we be partners after this?”

  “The same way we were before. Only better because now you don’t hate me.” Jack chuckled darkly. “At least I don’t think you do. Maybe you do because I’m the dick who seduced you and didn’t let you think things through.”

  “Don’t make this all your fault. It’s my fault too. Mostly mine actually. I tried to think it through last night, but I talked myself out of it.” Rosie lifted her head to glare at him. His heart gave an erratic beat. Was she protecting him? Against herself? Of all the goddamn things to do.

  “Rosie, let’s talk about this then. What do you want to do from here? Pretend last night never happened?”

  “How the hell do we do that?”

  “I don’t know. I’m just throwing shit out there. I know we could slow things down if that’s what you wanted.”

  “Are you not scared?” She slid from beneath his arms and reached for her panties so she could pull them on.

  Jack watched her dress, his thoughts chaotic.

  “I’m scared,” he admitted after she’d donned her bra and was in the act of pulling her tank top over her head. She missed a sleeve and froze, staring at him.

  “But mostly what I’m scared of is you’ll run away because you don’t think it could work between us.”

  She wet her lips with her tongue. “How could it work? We barely know each other.”

  “Sure, right now,” he agreed patiently. “But we have all the time in the world to discover each other.”

  “That’s what scares me most of all.” She grimaced as she realized she’d missed a sleeve and struggled to find it.

  Jack bunched his fists against the comforter. Goddamn, she had a point. What would she do when he told her he saw ghosts? Think he was insane probably. He couldn’t prove it. She wouldn’t see the ghosts – she’d just see him finding dead bodies. She thought she was scared now – Jesus. He bowed his head.

  Rosie said, “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

  Jack lifted his head and watched her adjust her tank top.

  “Ditto,” he said, a deep rush of frustration washing over him.

  “Things maybe I don’t want you to know.” Rosie got down on her hands and knees to peer under the bed. “Where are my goddamn sandals?”

  “Probably by the sofa in the living room,” Jack said. Hadn’t she kicked them off there last night when they’d been making out? God, he wished he could time travel back to that moment. This moment right now sucked big time.

  Rosie disappeared out the bedroom door. Jack muffled an oath and hastily put on his jeans so he could hurry after
her.

  He found her by the front door, stuffing her left foot into a right-foot sandal.

  “Damn it,” she swore, and threw the sandal across the room without looking. Jack ducked to avoid being brained, and the sandal sailed over his head and crashed onto the end table against the wall. The shattering sound of something breaking drained the color from Rosie’s face.

  “Oh, Jesus. I’m sorry!” She ran for the end table and knelt to pick up the pieces of what remained of a pottery moose Jack’s mother had made him during her pottery phase.

  Jack moved to help her.

  “Jack, look what I’ve done?” Rosie’s eyes swam with tears as she held out a handful of pottery shards.

  “I’ll tell you a secret.” Jack carefully took the pieces from her hands and put them on the end table before bending to retrieve more. “I never liked the damn thing much anyway, but I didn’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings.”

  “She bought it for you?” Rosie winced.

  “Made it actually.”

  “No!” Rosie’s cry of horror echoed throughout the room. “Oh, fuck me! Jack, I am so sorry.”

  Jack deposited more shards on the table. “This came from her pottery era. Which was right after her woodworking phase and right before photography. My mom flits from creative hobby to creative hobby. Even she’ll tell you her pottery phase wasn’t one of her more successful ventures. Don’t sweat it. I take it as an act of mercy actually. Thank you.”

  “But she made it,” Rosie protested, her face white as bone. “And now it’s gone.”

  “Look around.” Jack climbed to his feet. “That crazy-looking bird cage thing is from her woodworking era. I wish you’d break that too. And check out that scary-ass clown photo on the wall over there? One of her street performer series from her photography days. I get the crap. Seriously, I think she does it on purpose to see me squirm.”

  Rosie let out a watery giggle. She knuckled away a tear from the corner of her eye. “Your mom sounds funny as hell.”