Hot as Sin (Contemporary Romance Box Set)

by Katherine Lace

  She quirks an eyebrow. “I’m not sure I want to know.”

  “I’ve always wanted to fuck somebody in a fire truck.”

  She stops dead again, just as shocked as she was the last time. “You’re kidding, right?”

  “No.”

  “It’s broad daylight. There are…there are kids around?” The sweeping gesture of her hand encompasses exactly zero kids, because they’re all inside eating pancakes or participating in the indoor games that were set up to give the fire department folks a break before the next set of demos.

  “Looks pretty deserted to me.”

  “They could come out any second.”

  “They won’t. There aren’t any more demos until two o’clock.” Hah. For once I did my homework.

  “What if somebody else catches you? You’re about to run for fire chief. You could lose your job.”

  “It’ll be fine.” I can’t get the idea out of my head now. “None of the guys will say anything even if they do see us.”

  “It’s awfully cramped quarters. You could hurt yourself. Maybe if we went into the back of the paramedic truck? Isn’t it kind of like an ambulance back there?”

  “Aha! You’re thinking about it!” In great detail, apparently.

  “I am not seriously considering this, if that’s what you’re trying to say.” But her face is pink, so I know damn well she’s seriously considering it.

  “You’re talking logistics.”

  “Purely hypothetical.”

  “Su-u-ure.” I glance toward the truck then back at her. “I’ll tell you what. Let’s go take a closer look and see what the logistics really would be.”

  Of course, I already know what kind of room there is inside the ladder truck. There’s a whole back row behind the front seats where three firemen can ready their gear on the way to a fire. Plus there’s nobody around, and it’s much harder to see into those backseats than it is to see into the front area of the cab. So I’m pretty sure we can manage it. All I have to do is convince her.

  Once we start up into the cab, though, I can tell by her face that she’s already more than half convinced. “It’s a lot roomier in here than I expected,” she says.

  “Ha. See? I told you.” I push up behind her, pumping my hips against her butt. I’ve got an erection burgeoning, and I want to be sure she knows it.

  She starts to take a step down, back out of the truck, but I’m blocking her way. “People will see us,” she protests in a hissing whisper, but the back of her neck is turning pink, and I know she’s giving my plan serious consideration. That’s enough to ratchet my horniness up about a thousand percent, so I bump my hips against her ass again.

  “C’mon. Let’s do it. It’ll be fun.”

  “I don’t know…”

  I snake an arm around her and stroke my hand down her belly, stopping just shy of the top of her jeans. “Nobody will see. I promise.” I kind of hope somebody will see, but I’m not going to tell her that. I’m a sick fuck sometimes, but that’s okay. I’ve learned to embrace it.

  She’s quiet for a second or two. I hold still, letting her think. Finally she takes another step up into the backseat of the cab.

  Yes.

  I move up behind her as fast as I can without disturbing my leg too much. My mind’s already racing to come up with ways we can do this that won’t set back my healing or, you know, cause me excruciating pain. I’m game, though. I can be creative when I have to be.

  She plops down in one of the seats in the back row. There’s quite a bit of room there, and one seat has a full set of equipment next to it, ready to be pulled on during the ride to the fire site. She still looks unsure, her hands folded in her lap as she peers out the wide windows. One side looks out toward the building where the breakfast is presumably still going strong. The other side looks out on part of the nearby park. It’s deserted at the moment. Any park goers who aren’t involved in the fire department event are probably staying away from it to avoid the noise and bustle.

  “I’ll sit,” I tell her, “and you can sit on top of me.”

  “O-o-kay.” Her tone is skeptical, one eyebrow winging up to punctuate her tone.

  “It’ll work. Trust me.”

  If we’re going to do this, the one thing it has to be is fast. Not romantic at all, but the idea of fucking her hard and quick has got me beyond hot and bothered. I unfasten my jeans and unzip the fly but leave them on as I sit next to her in the middle seat.

  She slides a hand through her hair, pushing it back behind one ear. It’s a delicate move, and I can tell from the way she does it that she’s self-conscious and not completely on board with the plan. I reach over and cup the back of her head, pull her toward me for a kiss. She answers the kiss, responds as I make it deeper, more intense. I can never get enough of kissing this woman.

  Gradually she eases closer to me until she’s straddling my lap. I stroke down her back, cup her ass, and she pulses her hips forward, pressing my dick against the seam between her legs. I moan quietly in the back of my throat.

  After a minute or so she draws back, breathing hard. “This still isn’t going to work. I have to get all the way undressed.”

  “Then take off your fucking clothes. What’s the holdup?”

  She flits a glance out the window again. “Um…”

  “Okay.” I get that, and it’s fine. I’ve got a backup plan. “Let’s do it this way instead. Turn around.”

  She does, and I ease her back against me, her butt in my lap, making sure our legs don’t tangle. She’s careful, too, aware that she could accidentally hit me right in the burned part of my leg. She sits down lightly, and I pump my hips up once or twice to demonstrate. “See?”

  “Sure.” But there’s still hesitation there. Time to get her so worked up nothing else will matter.

  I reach around and cup her breasts, teasing her nipples through her bra. Stroking down, I caress her belly then slide my hands along the insides of her thighs. Her skin starts to shiver whenever I touch her; I can even feel it through the fabric of her clothes.

  When she starts making that low, moaning sound I like so much, I unbutton her jeans and start to maneuver them down until her ass is naked, exposed down to the top couple of inches of her thighs. I stroke down her back, and she leans forward a little.

  My own pants are undone, but not quite out of the way, so I remedy that as efficiently as possible. My leg is still twinging with every move, but it’s easier to ignore when I’ve got Maddy in my lap and a clear focus on the goal—getting inside her. My dick springs free and bounces off the curve of her ass. I like the way that looks.

  “There we go,” I mumble. “Almost there.”

  Reaching around, I slip a hand between her legs, toying with her clit. It’s firm and round under my fingers, and her moaning has accelerated to a rhythmic whimper. I love the way she responds to me. Sometimes I think I could just look at her and make her come.

  With my hand still between her legs, I pull her back a little. Her thighs open, and my cock presses against her pussy. A slight adjustment…she moves backward then gives a small cry as I slide right in.

  I hold still for a few long seconds, just feeling her heat clasped around me. She starts to squeeze and release, squeeze and release, and it’s my turn to moan. I let my head fall back then grab her hips and lift her up, then down.

  It takes a few strokes to get everything perfectly aligned, but finally we’ve got a groove on. I reach up and wrap a fist around her hair, yanking gently. “Touch yourself,” I tell her, and she does, putting one hand between her legs where I can’t quite reach anymore because of the new angles. Immediately she tightens around me, and I start to thrust harder.

  “Oh God. Oh God.” She’s saying it over and over, so quietly I can barely hear her, as if we’re back in her apartment trying not to wake up her son. No one can hear us here, but the fact she’s trying so hard not to make noises—and mostly failing—inexplicably makes me just that much hotter. I didn’t th
ink it was possible.

  I shift her just a little bit, lifting her hips. I’m deep inside, fucking her hard, taking her. I can tell she’s just about to come; she’s so tight on me I’m actually having a hard time thrusting. Just one touch, I think, and she’ll be right over the edge.

  I squeeze her ass then let my thumb touch her asshole. She squeaks. I push into it, just enough to feel the tension, and she explodes on me.

  I explode on her at the same time. I’m not sure how it happens, but she’s flailing a little, going off-balance as our position shifts, and suddenly I hear the truck’s air horn go off in a single, very loud wail.

  We both freeze. She’s still pulsing around me, her breath still coming in ragged gasps. Did she hit the horn somehow? She must have.

  “Oh my God. Oh my God,” she says suddenly, her tone very different from the one she was using before. She jerks away from me and grabs at her pants, yanking them back into place. I follow suit. There’s a chance nobody will even respond to the sound, but there’s also a chance somebody will come out and investigate. Better safe than sorry, I guess.

  She shoves her hands through her hair, trying to straighten it. It’s pretty disheveled at this point—my bad. Grinning at her, I grab a hat from a hook inside the truck and plop it on her head. “There you go.”

  “Oh God, Jesse, we shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Calm down, Mads. It’s fine.” I get up carefully, my leg almost not hurting—sex hormones are the best shit ever—and we make our way out of the truck.

  Whether because they heard the horn or because they just happened to have finished their pancakes, some of the guys are heading our way. I adjust the hat on Maddy’s head and say, loudly enough the others can hear, “So that’s what it looks like inside a fire truck. Pretty cool, huh?”

  “Very cool,” she answers. She seems to be getting herself back under control, and she takes my hand nonchalantly, accompanying me back toward the building.

  Whitaker catches my eye as we move past him, and he shakes his head slightly. But he’s smiling. I grin back. I don’t give a shit if he knows exactly what we were doing in that truck. In fact, I’d like to tell every one of the guys about it in explicit detail, but I don’t think Maddy would approve.

  Back inside, we cruise past the buffet again. I get another cup of coffee and doctor it with cream and sugar. She puts a tea bag in a cup of hot water, bumping against me with her shoulder.

  “So,” she says. “You feel better now?”

  “Much.”

  She’s silent for a moment, then as we head back toward the table she says, “I’ll tell you what. I’ll come stay with you for a while.”

  “Stay with me?”

  “Yeah. At your place. That way I can get some things cleaned up now that the cat is behaving a little better. I can also help you with some everyday stuff like laundry, dishes, that kind of thing.”

  I chew over the idea. It sounds a lot like she’s straight-up moving in with me. “What about Christopher?”

  “He’d have to come along, if that’s okay.”

  I shrug. There’s a warmth in the middle of my chest, and I’m not sure what to make of it. “Of course it’s okay. You’re a package deal, right?”

  She laughs. “Yep. That we are.”

  I give her a smile over my coffee cup, wondering if either one of us really knows what we’re about to get ourselves into. It doesn’t matter; I’m looking forward to finding out.

  True to her word, Maddy shows up the next morning lugging suitcases. Her car’s in my driveway, the backseat full of little-kid stuff. For a split second I wonder what the hell I’m getting myself into, then I focus on Maddy, who’s struggling to get a huge suitcase up onto the porch. I can’t help but smile. My heart feels like it’s literally melting, going all soft and oozy just at the sight of her.

  I reach for her suitcase. “Let me help.”

  “You’re supposed to be resting your leg.”

  I wave it off. Yes, my leg hurts—it’s going to hurt for a while yet, they tell me—but I can’t stand to watch Maddy fighting with that gigantic piece of luggage. “I got it,” I tell her, and she lets me help her.

  I manhandle the suitcase into the house and roll it toward my room. She’s right behind me, carrying a few smaller pieces. “Um…Jesse?”

  “What?”

  “I should really have my own room, don’t you think?”

  I stop in the doorway and turn around to look at her. “Seriously?”

  Maddy shifts uncomfortably, foot to foot. “Well…yeah.”

  I’m not sure why the question irritates me so much. “What’s the point?”

  “It’s not long term.” But she sounds less certain by the word. “It’s not like I’m staying here for good. And we’re… I’m not really your girlfriend.”

  I’m surprised at how straight-up annoyed that comment makes me. “C’mon, Madison. Don’t you think it’s time we stopped with the ‘it’s just pretend’ bullshit?”

  “But we—”

  I’m not done. “Maybe we started out just faking it, but not anymore. We’re a real couple these days.”

  Her eyes are wide now, and she almost looks frightened. “Are we? Are we really?”

  I shrug, trying to keep from freaking her out. Too late, most likely. “Feels like it to me.”

  “I don’t…” She trails off.

  “Doesn’t it feel like it to you?” I’m sure it does. If it didn’t, why is she in the process of moving in with me? “We’re together all the time, we’re great in bed—hell, I’ve even changed your kid’s diapers. And if you want to move in here…” I stop, making a show of considering. “If I have to… I’ll even let you hang those nutty posters of yours in the living room.”

  She’s still staring at me. She blinks a couple of times, her eyes bright. I get the feeling she’s about to cry. We can’t have that. I move closer to her and take her arms in my hands, looking down into her face. “If that doesn’t convince you I want to be with you, I don’t know what will.”

  For another long moment, she’s frozen. Then, abruptly, she pushes up onto her toes and kisses me.

  It’s soft and sweet, and she’s so warm in my arms. I kiss her back, just tasting her, then pull her against my chest and kiss the top of her head.

  I never want to let her go.

  11

  Maddy

  Maddy

  There aren’t very many things nicer than leaning back in a recliner with a cat purring on your lap and your toddler napping in another room. Unless that recliner happens to be at your boyfriend’s house, where you’ve been living for the past couple of days, with no real end in sight. If I have my way about it, I think I’d stay forever.

  Thor is warm and relaxed, purring in his sleep as I stroke between his ears. He seems to have developed a real affection for me, although no matter how hard Jesse tries to make friends, the cat still spurns him. Jesse takes it personally even though I’ve explained to him that cats are cats and many of them are just assholes.

  It’s been a great few days. Jesse’s getting better—we’ve even gone on a few short walks around the neighborhood together, watching Christopher delight in the changing weather. He and Jesse are also getting along great. Even my mom and dad have said Jesse seems okay, and that as long as I’m committed to keeping him around for Christopher’s role-modeling purposes, they’ll help me with the tuition. Everything has come together so well.

  I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Things just don’t work like this for me. Something has to hit the fan sooner or later. Jesse will finally realize my single-mother status is too much for him to deal with, or he’ll realize he doesn’t want to spend his life with a woman with horrible stretch marks, or Mom and Dad will decide they really don’t think a fireman is a good father figure, or…

  Frustrated, I shift in the chair. Thor makes a disgruntled sound and curls up a little tighter. I need to stop obsessing. Things are good
—there’s no reason to think they won’t stay good.

  Jesse chooses that moment to walk into the room. He’s not really limping anymore, and when he sees me, he gives me that smile that makes me melt. “Hey,” he says.

  “Hey. How did things go?”

  He ignores my question, noticing Thor in my lap. “Damn cat. Nothing but a traitor.” He heads into the kitchen.

  I get up and follow him, and Thor leaps down and heads for a scratching post. “I asked how things went.”

  He’s filling a coffee mug from the pot I left on the burner from this morning. “Fine. I’m clear to go back to work.”

  He says it like it’s no big deal, but I know it’s a huge relief to him. To me, too. He’s been insufferable puttering around at home. There were days I was relieved to go to work so I wouldn’t have to listen to him whining. But it was nice to be able to leave Christopher with him off and on instead of having to impose on Mel all the time. They got to stay home and whine like two-year-olds together.

  “That’s great!”

  He takes a drink of coffee and grins at me. “You’ll miss me. Admit it.”

  “A little bit.”

  We head back into the living room, and he settles on the couch. I sit next to him, enjoying being with him. He reaches over and starts to rub the back of my neck, so I turn so my back is facing him. He obligingly starts massaging my neck and shoulders, which are tensing up. I can’t help but wonder if this is the beginning of the end—if he’ll ask me to move out once he can take care of himself again.

  “I’m glad you can go back to work because I know it’s important to you,” I tell him. I mean it—he loves his job, and what he does is important. “And yes, I’ll miss you. I mean, it’s been nice, but I knew it wouldn’t last forever.”

  “Well, if you think I’m not going to want to come home after work and fuck you silly, you’re wrong on that count.”

  I smile, if a little doubtfully.

  He stops what he’s doing and leans forward so he can almost see my face. “You don’t believe me, do you?”