by Cathryn Fox
Megan sat up and stretched. The springs on the old twin bed groaned in protest. “Coffee?”
Sara smiled. “Love some. I’d also love some of those yummy breakfast frittatas you make.” Since Sara hated to cook, having a sous chef for a best friend was like the icing on the cake, or, rather, a yummy frittata on her plate.
With Misty curling around Megan’s feet, they padded to the kitchen, taking care not to wake the others. Megan went to work on the coffee while Sara grabbed her pen and notebook. Her mind raced to create the perfect catchy opening. She scribbled a few things down, but her mind kept wandering to the amazing fantasy night she’d just had and to the amazing man beneath the uniform.
Just then Jenna appeared. “Doesn’t anyone sleep in Chicago?”
“It doesn’t appear that way,” Sara said, using her toes to push a chair away from the table in offering. “What’s keeping you up?”
Jenna combed her fingers through her long hair. Even after a night of no sleep, she was the epitome of perfection. Jenna designed her own clothes and owned a chain of lingerie boutiques, and with her long chestnut hair, green eyes, beautiful face, and perfect figure – a perfect figure that she kept hidden beneath baggy clothes – she could easily be a top lingerie model herself.
“I’ve been up all night thinking about my business and the fashion show Cassie asked me to put on for her friends and colleagues. It really is great exposure for the new Siren line, especially now that I’m thinking of expanding into new territories.” She bit her lip and glanced around as though gauging her friends’ reactions.
Megan’s blue eyes lit up. “Really? That’s wonderful, Jenna. I knew one day you’d grow your business and venture into new territories. You certainly have the brains and drive for it.”
“I’ve just been waiting for the right time and the right opportunity to expand. I think this might be it. Cassie and I were talking last night and she has some great ideas. As a public relations liaison for one of Chicago’s largest marketing firms, she has lots of contacts in the industry.”
“So you’re thinking of opening a shop here, in Chicago?” Sara asked. She tossed Megan a grateful smile as she brought her a steaming mug of coffee.
Jenna nodded. “Yes. With Cassie’s help, I know I can do this.”
Sara leaned in for a hug. “How exciting for you, Jenna!”
Megan offered Jenna a cup of coffee and handed Sara utensils, along with a bottle of raspberry jam. “Can you open this for me?” Megan asked.
Sara laughed and twisted off the lid. “How do you ever manage to cook when you can never open anything?”
“I manage because I have you to help me. And when you’re not around, I skip the jam or anything else with a screw cap, for that matter.” She wagged her finger. “Tight caps are not my friends.”
As Megan went to work on breakfast, Sara said, “Since we’re all gathered here, we should talk about the bachelorette party. We need to get cracking on that. Any ideas?”
For the next hour, the three girls tossed around ideas until Cassie and Nick surfaced. After an exchange of pleasantries, they all went their separate ways, agreeing to meet up again for the formal dinner that Cassie and Nick had planned for the bridal party.
As Sara made her way back to the bedroom to work on her article, she thought about the dinner party – a party that Mitch would attend. Her stomach tightened, and her heart raced in anticipation. She couldn’t believe how eager she was to see him again. Damn him for being so irresistible.
How in the hell could she possibly act like a normal human being and make it though a meal with him sitting next to her? Especially after all the intimacies they shared last night. And how in the hell could she be expected to keep her hands to herself, knowing how amazing that toned body felt beneath her fingertips…between her legs?
Her thighs quivered in erotic delight as she indulged in the provocative slide show.
Even though last evening was just supposed to be one hot night of fantasy sex, she knew she wanted to be with him again. She also knew this wasn’t the time to be worrying about getting in too deep. She’d deal with that later because right now was time for fun and fantasies and dammit she planned on spending the rest of her vacation indulging in as many as she could.
She took a moment to recall the way Mitch lavished her with so much attention. Indulging her wayward thoughts, she envisioned his tender lips on hers again, his cock inside her pussy, stroking deeply as they both reached earth-shattering orgasms. Suddenly, her mind raced with indecent thoughts, thoughts like getting in the pool house again and fulfilling a few of his fantasies, the same way he’d fulfilled hers.
A smile touched her lips. What was that he said about tying her up and spanking her? Oh yeah, she mused, her mind plotting and tweaking the details of her own sexy seduction. Maybe it was time to give the fantasy man his own private fantasy. One he wouldn’t soon forget.
* * *
Dressed in a hot red barely there dress that dipped into her cleavage, Sara drew a sharp breath as she, along with her friends, entered Chez Frontenac, the finest French restaurant in Chicago.
She turned to Cassie and spoke in a whisper. “You must have booked this months ago. I hear this place is harder to get into than Fort Knox.”
Cassie smiled and gave her a wink. “Not when you have connections.”
Sara adjusted her black evening bag under her arm, stepped farther into the foyer, and soaked in the elegant ambience. “You have connections?” she asked, brow arched. “Do tell.”
Before Cassie had time to answer, Megan stepped up beside her, eyes opened wide and glowing like a child’s on Christmas morning. A hand over her chest, she gasped and said, “This is Lucien Beaufort’s restaurant.”
Cassie nodded. “Yes. Do you know him?”
“Yes, I know him. Well, I don’t really know him, not really-” She stopped midsentence to wring her hands together. Seemingly flustered and excited at the same time, Megan babbled on, “Not personally, anyway. But his reputation precedes him.”
Following Megan’s lead, Sara glanced around the cozy restaurant. Soft light and rich decor set the mood for elegance and seduction. Strategically placed candles and minilights created warmth and comfort while rich orange and pink hues played off the plush velvet upholstery.
Megan turned to face Sara. “Ohmigod, Sara, I’d give a kidney to meet Lucien.”
Cassie chuckled and touched her arm to draw her attention. “I don’t think you need to go to such extremes, Megan. I’ll try to introduce you to Lucien a little later on if he’s not too busy.”
Megan’s jaw practically hit the floor. Face animated, she rushed on, “You will? Really? Cassie, you have got to be kidding me. And if you are, you really shouldn’t kid about such things.”
Sara chuckled and hugged Megan to calm her down. “Relax, honey.” She turned to Cassie. “Imagine how she’d act if she ever had the chance to work under him?”
Megan shot her a frown. “Don’t even joke about such a thing, Sara.”
“So how do you know him, Cassie?” Sara asked. Just then the maitre d’ came up and gestured with a wave that their table was ready.
“Lucien had a fire in his kitchen a few months back. Nick was the first firefighter on the scene. He saved the restaurant. The guys make a lot of connections that way.” When Cassie cast a glance toward Nick, a look of love came over her face and warmed Sara’s heart. Would the day ever come when someone looked at her like that?
As they walked to the table, Sara listened to Megan mumble something about Lucien Beaufort under her breath, then grinning from ear to ear, she turned to Cassie. “Have I told you how much I love you?”
Cassie arched one brow, her mouth turning up at the corners. “I think you’re about to love me even more.”
“That’s not possible,” Megan said, arms folded, face adamant.
“Lucien will be a guest at the wedding. It should give you plenty of time to chat with him.”
Me
gan practically shrieked and threw her arms around Cassie. “Okay, you win. I do love you more.”
As they approached the table, Sara spotted Dean Beckman and Brady Wade already seated, looking so darn handsome and proper in their tailored suits. Her pulse leapt and her stomach tightened as her mind conjured the image of Mitch all decked out in his finest attire.
Sara moved around the table, searching for her place card. After seating herself, she peeked at the card beside her. Her body fairly vibrated when she read Mitch’s name. She quickly panned the restaurant, but he was nowhere to be found. Impatience mingled with nervousness as she mentally indulged in all the sexy things she had planned for him later that night.
She glanced around the table, taking stock. Dean was seated beside Jenna, and Brady was placed next to Megan. By the looks on her friends’ faces she’d say both seemed rather happy with the arrangement.
Who could blame them? Really, the guys were gorgeous. Every woman’s fantasy. But they were no Mitch Adams.
Trying for casual, she asked, “Where’s Mitch?”
Cassie piped up, but before she could answer, she heard Mitch’s deep, sensuous voice. His seductive cadence bombarded her body with rich, evocative sensations. She shuddered and warmed all over as his intoxicating, familiar scent teased and tormented her libido.
With casual confidence, he pulled his chair out and sat beside her. Heat and strength radiated off him and seeped under her skin.
Desire thrummed through her veins when she took a moment to peruse him. He looked like sin and seduction all rolled into one. Seeing him all heroic and sexy in his firefighter suit was one thing, but seeing him in formal wear made her breath catch and her heart turn over.
“Hey, I heard my name. Is someone talking about me?” He glanced at Sara and his simmering blue eyes flitted across her body with intimate recognition. Sara acknowledged the flare of desire inside her, and for a moment, she wondered if Mitch could see the telltale hardening of her nipples.
Mitch gifted her with a sexy wink, his eyes full of teasing warmth. “Don’t believe a thing these guys tell you, Sara,” he said, grinning like the devil himself. “I was not responsible for losing that twenty-pound trout on our last fishing trip, no matter what they say. It was Dean’s fault. He couldn’t keep the damn boat steady. He was lurching all over the place like a drunken sailor.”
The guys all laughed and threw around words like, “baby,” “boat,” “lurched,” “my ass,” and “slippery fingers.” Sara grinned, loving the camaraderie among the men. It occurred to her that the firefighters from Station 419 formed a brotherhood. Men who worked together, played together, and trusted on another with their lives. She was in awe of them, really.
After goading them on, Mitch chuckled and told them all where they could go, giving specific directions and offering a map should they need it. Sara laughed with him, marveling at his playful side and the way his deep, sensuous laughter warmed her blood and curled her toes.
When the laughing settled down, and pleasantries had been exchanged, all eyes turned to the menu and a few people began to talk among themselves.
Sara felt Mitch’s hand close over hers under the linen tablecloth. He gave a tender squeeze, a small affectionate gesture that touched her down deep and created an instant air of warmth and familiarity around them. She angled her head to see him. His eyes flared when they met hers. His smile looked warm, inviting, and intimate.
“Hi,” he whispered.
The silky warmth of his voice drew her into a cocoon of need and desire. Longing swamped her.
She drew in air, taking a moment to compose herself. “Hi, yourself.”
He pitched his voice low, his eyes glimmering with dark sensuality. “You look beautiful.”
When she smiled at the endorsement, something tender and powerful passed between them. Something, she knew, that there might be no coming back from. It took effort for her to keep her voice light. “You’re not so bad yourself.”
“I guess I clean up okay,” he teased, his lips twitching with amusement.
They shared a private chuckle, and then Sara admitted honestly, “Better than okay, Mitch.” His nearness was playing havoc with her libido and she suspected it was the same for him. Heat gathered in her body as she worked to keep her passion at bay.
Scrubbing a hand over his jaw, he leaned in and whispered. “It’s no firefighter suit though, right?” When he mentioned the suit, the mental image of him stripping it from his lethally honed body while she watched in heated anticipation had her hormones jumping to attention like an obedient fire cadet.
“It’s better,” she assured him. Then, in a low sultry voice meant to entice, she added, “And probably a lot easier for me to rip off.”
She watched his expression change. Light humor segued to dark desire. His fingers tightened over hers. Sexually frustrated curses rumbled in his throat. Desire and need burned in his blue eyes.
Under his breath he whispered, “Jesus, Sara, you’re going to pay for that.”
She matched his low tone. “I thought you might say that. Good thing I have the rope and paddle all ready.”
Picking his jaw up off the table, Mitch cleared his throat and practically leapt to his feet. “If you’ll all excuse me for a minute…”
Sara sipped her wine. Eyes wide and innocent, she tipped her head up and asked, “Are you okay, Mitch? You look flushed.”
As though flustered, his words came out all jumbled and broken. “I’m. fine. Running late. Wash up. Busy.”
Sara kept a smile from her face although she was loving the way she affected him. Loved how she could reduce him to speechlessness so easily.
After Mitch returned, the waiter took their orders. With Mitch barely able to form a coherent sentence, Sara turned her attention to Cassie as she and Jenna discussed the details of the lingerie party. Sara took note of the look in Dean’s eyes as he listened to the exchange with heated interest.
A short while later, after eating dessert, they all made plans to head over to The Hose for after dinner drinks. Sara excused herself. When the group gave her a questioning look, she explained she had work to do.
After everyone agreed that Sara would take the car home and the others would share a cab, since they all planned on having a drink or two, she stepped out into the night, Mitch tight on her heels.
Sara stood back and watched her friends pile into a cab. Mitch moved in beside her. Draped in darkness, she whispered into his ear. “Follow me home.”
Gaze dark, scalding, he looked at her, his eyes serious. His hand closed over hers, warm and strong. He put his mouth close to her ear, his breath hot on her neck. A moan caught in her throat.
“I don’t have my firefighter suit with me.”
Sara grinned, and in her most sultry voice, she said, “You don’t need it.” She fingered his lapels. “Like I said, this is probably easier for me to rip off.”
His nostrils flared. “Jesus, Sara, do you enjoy torturing me?” he asked, curiosity and excitement in his tone. He shifted his stance as though in agony.
She cocked her head playfully, her eyes full of promise. “Torture? Oh no. What I have planned for you tonight isn’t going to hurt one little bit.” Before she stepped away, leaving Mitch in the shadows to tame his arousal, she said, “Oh, and meet me out back.”
Heart racing with excitement, Sara made her way to the car. Just seeing the look on Mitch’s face and knowing how eager he was to follow her home fired her libido and moistened her panties.
Fortunately, traffic was light, and she arrived back at the house in record time. Wasting no time getting ready, she grabbed two towels from the house and rushed around back to the pool. Shrouded in darkness, she quickly stripped off her sexy red dress and dove in. She was right, not even the cool water could help smother the flames of desire engulfing her. Only Mitch was capable of that feat.
Sara waded into the deep end while waiting for Mitch, her mind swimming with all the delicious things she w
anted to do with him – and to him. She thought about how she wanted to kiss him all over, to feel his warm flesh beneath her lips. How she wanted to take his cock into her mouth and lap at him until their moans of pleasure merged. Her breasts swelled with heated blood, as she imagined it now. She ached to stroke, suck, and nibble his magnificent shaft. Ached to feel his sex muscles spasm as his tangy juices erupted in her throat.
Footsteps on the walkway pulled her from her reverie. As soon as Mitch rounded the corner and she set eyes on him, her heart leapt, her body pulsed, desire singed her blood. Out of nowhere a wave of passion and possessiveness rushed through her and caught her by surprise.
In that instant it occurred to her just how bad she had it for him. Just how much she wanted to lose herself in him, and how much she ached for something far more intimate.
He came closer and knelt down at the edge of the pool. He narrowed his gaze and a muscle in his jaw clenched. One hand went to her cheek, his thumb tracing the pattern of her lips. She liquefied under his touch. His low sensuous voice covered her body like a blanket of warmth. “Hey.”
That one simple word did such amazing things to her insides. “Hey yourself.” She pushed off the edge, allowing him to see her naked body below the surface, letting him know exactly what she wanted.
Mitch’s dark, hungry gaze slid over her flesh, generating deep desire. He took a long moment just to look at her. She watched his eyes fill with lust. Her body began humming with excitement. His breath came in a low rush, his gaze shifted to her face. “Are you coming out or am I coming in?”
With two easy strokes, she made her way back to him, needing to touch him, to feel connected on some deeper level. As her hand closed over his, unrelenting pressure brewed in the depths of her womb. “I believe you promised me a swim last night,” she said.
