All Fired Up

by Lori Foster

  A lot like Newman.

  That lazy breeze shifted the leaves overhead, sending sunlight to dance over Mitch’s face. It was a reminder: he was alive, free, his brothers had accepted him, and now Charlotte hugged him.

  Overall, life was better than he’d dared hope a few years ago.

  Coasting his hand down her back, then up again, Mitch collected his thoughts. “The first few days I was there, he explained things to me, even helped me make a shiv. I had it on me that day, but couldn’t get to it. The attack came too quickly from behind me. One of them busted the backs of my knees...” Rage and terror welled up again. The feeling of being helpless.

  Never again.

  For the rest of his life, he’d face each day head-on. He’d learned, hell yes he had. Now he could sense trouble before it reached him.

  Trying to give him her strength, she snuggled in even more.

  “I thought...” Dry-eyed, he stared up at the tree, making himself see the leaves surrounded by blue sky, instead of the images from that day. “I thought they would succeed and there wasn’t anything I could do about it.”

  “You got away?” she asked in a very small voice.

  “My cell mate showed up.” Mitch made sure to keep inflection out of his tone, to speak in a flat monotone—but he couldn’t censor the language. “He grabbed back one of the guys and that was all the leverage I needed. I kicked that bastard in the face, dislocating his jaw and shattering his nose. Broke the other one’s arm in two places, then punched him in the balls.”

  Nodding against him, she whispered fiercely, “Good.”

  It made him smile, this ferocious side of her and wasn’t that crazy?

  No, that was Charlotte. He turned his face to kiss the top of her head, to slowly breathe in the fragrance of her skin and hair.

  “The other guy—he’d terrorized so many people, and I’d had enough. I figured I was already in prison and if I stayed there, so what. At least it’d be on my terms without some asshole preying on me constantly. So I punched him in the throat and collapsed his esophagus. While he choked for air, I kneed in his nuts—making sure he wouldn’t rape anyone else.”

  “Good,” she said again. Then went one further to add, “That makes you a hero.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  JESUS, SHE WAS SPECIAL, so damn special. She not only accepted what he did, understanding the reasons for it, she praised him. Complimented him.

  Redeemed him.

  “I left him blind in one eye,” he said, desperately needing her to understand just how far his temper had carried him. “I destroyed his nose, knocked out a few teeth—”

  “Good, good, good.” As she spoke, she rose to kiss his face, her tears dropping. At first it confused him until he realized what it was, then he saw that her eyes were red, her cheeks blotchy.

  She’d been silently crying that whole time.

  “Oh, baby, don’t. Please don’t.” He could deal with anything except seeing her upset. Rolling, he put her under him and brushed back those sweet flyaway curls. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

  Her fingers smashed over his mouth while she audibly swallowed. “Don’t,” she choked. “Don’t regret telling me.” She struggled to swallow again, then sobbed softly and grabbed him, hiding her face against his chest.

  “Charlotte?”

  “I’m proud of you,” she strangled out.

  The laugh sounded rusty, as confused as he felt. “Proud?” He tried to tip up her face, but she resisted, and then her head bumped his chin as she nodded. “I would never—”

  Her small fist thumped his chest. “I know that. You don’t go around raging on people. You don’t have a terrible temper. You defended yourself, just as you should, and probably ended up saving other people too.” Gearing up for more, she drew in a breath. “So I’m proud of you for doing what had to be done. Proud of you for surviving.” She not-so-subtly wiped her eyes on his shirt. “Proud of you for being who you are—a man who thought I needed to hear this, so even though I know it had to be painful, you told me.”

  Yes, very painful, but he’d felt satisfaction too. That day he had proved he could survive.

  Hell of a lesson—and one past due at that point.

  Sniffling, she cupped his face in her hands. “I hope I don’t scare you off, Mitch Crews, but I’m falling in love.”

  His stomach took a free fall. She stole his breath. Hell, she stole his reason and his strength and every other damn thing he thought he had control over. “You...?”

  Defiant and with her own measure of pride, she nodded. “If you can’t handle that, we should probably call it quits right now.”

  Unthinkable. “Oh, hell no.”

  Her lips curved. That mouth, that incredibly sexy, scorching hot smile...

  Suddenly ravenous for her, he crushed her mouth under his, aware of the wetness on her cheeks and the way her fingers tunneled into his hair.

  Her acceptance.

  Her willingness.

  He could have her here, in the park, on the hard ground—but he wouldn’t. He cared for her too. Love? He didn’t know much about love, but he knew Charlotte was vital to him. She deserved his patience, and by God, he’d give it to her.

  But he could show her how it’d be for them. He wanted her to want him every bit as much, to be just as hungry as him.

  Leaving her parted lips, he kissed away the tears, opened his mouth on her throat and tasted her sun-warmed skin, filling his senses with her. God, he could get drunk on her taste.

  Fingers open, he trailed his hand up her side, covering a lot of tantalizing ground from her pliant hip, the curve of her waist and up to one small, perfect breast.

  Finding her nipple already stiff beneath camisole and bra, he groaned.

  Charlotte squeezed her eyes shut and pinched her lips together, but he still heard the little hum of excitement. He watched her face as he worked his thumb over and around her nipple. When she involuntarily arched, her lips parting, he couldn’t help but take things a step further.

  “You, lady, are a scalding-hot temptation.” Almost too tempting to resist. “Will you trust me?”

  “I already do.”

  Humbled, he kissed her again, saying against her lips, “You’ll like this.” Propped on one forearm, he slowly tugged down the top of her camisole, taking her bra cup away as well, until he revealed her.

  Creamy pale skin drew his fingertips. Gently, lightly, he explored her, circling her puckered nipple until her breaths grew uneven.

  “Beautiful.” Lowering his head, he placed one small kiss on the very tip. She shifted against him, bringing one leg up, hooking it around his calf. Her hips lifted.

  Liking that response, he teased with his tongue, circling her, circling, plucking with his lips...

  “You’re right,” she whispered brokenly. “I like that.”

  Smiling, he drew her in, sucking softly—then not so softly.

  It shouldn’t have surprised him; with Charlotte, she never reacted as he expected. But her immediate trembling, the way she rocked against him, told him how quickly she turned on.

  Just from his mouth on her breast.

  “Damn,” he breathed, moving to the side of her, set on his course. “You and I are going to have so much fun.”

  Eyes closed, cheekbones dewy and flushed, she whispered, “I’m counting on it.”

  Already she appeared so aroused. Starved. That’s what she was: a sexy, incredibly sweet woman who, for unimaginable reason, had avoided sexual involvement.

  Until him.

  He’d take care of her, in every way she could imagine.

  A glance around ensured they remained alone. “I’m going to show you how good it will be.”

  She breathed faster.

  Though he’d done little enough, she was already so primed his ego
swelled—along with other parts of him.

  He kissed her, softly devouring her mouth until her fingers clutched at his shoulders. Her shorts were nice because the leg openings were loose, making it easy for him to trail his fingertips up her satiny thigh and under the hem.

  On a sharp inhale, Charlotte went still, suspended on a precipice of anticipation.

  So beautiful—and meant for him, only him.

  Watching her face, very aware of the differences in their sizes, experience and expectation, he explored her through her panties.

  “Mitch...”

  “Hmm?”

  “Don’t stop.”

  “No, I won’t.” As he stroked over her, her eyes grew heavier, darker and dazed, until she closed them on a shuddering sigh.

  He could feel the heat of her—and he wanted more. Sliding beneath the elastic of the leg opening, he touched her. Warm, damp, swollen...

  Biting off a groan, he bent back to her nipple, tonguing her while sliding one finger over the seam of her sex. Her legs shifted apart. He pressed in, barely entering her. Clamping a hand onto his forearm, she tried to guide him, moving against him.

  Yeah. So fucking hot.

  It was a struggle not to get lost in sensation and need, but he managed to stay aware of their surroundings, attuned to any sound of approach.

  All stayed quiet except for the birds in the tree, the rush of the creek and the rustle of the breeze through the leaves.

  As he worked that one finger deeper, they groaned together—him in a surge of lust at her tightness, but he was pretty sure her reaction was to sensory overload of a new experience.

  Going a little deeper each time, he stroked, gently in and out, until she caught his rhythm and moved with him. It was tricky because the shorts were restrictive, but he got his hand turned enough to bring his thumb up to her clit. Her electric reaction to that was one of the hottest things he’d ever experienced.

  Charlotte made everything sharper, sweeter and infinitely hotter.

  By small degrees, release crept up on her. He saw it in the flush of her skin, her swollen lips and labored breaths, the way she tightened, arched. Closing her eyes, she put her head back, her expression beginning to contort in signs of nearly painful pleasure.

  In response, he grew so hard he hurt.

  Turning her face against him with a throaty, broken groan, she let go, and the climax rolled through her.

  If he had her alone in his house he’d make use of the soft bed, strip her naked and eat her until she sobbed like this with release, and then he’d ride her hard and deep, making himself a part of her.

  Short of that, this was perfect. He hurt with his own need, but he didn’t care. He’d see to it that they had plenty of time for the rest of it later.

  Staying with her, soaking in her incredible response, Mitch felt the moment she started to ease and he lightened his touch. Her nipple was very dark and ripe when he released her from his mouth. Blowing gently on her caused a moan, and she fell flat again, legs slightly parted, breast exposed, pulse thundering.

  Mine, he thought, looking at her with her displaced clothes, mussed hair and rosy skin. “You’re mine.”

  “That goes both ways,” she whispered.

  Worked for him.

  Getting oxygen into his lungs wasn’t easy. As he looked her over from her bare feet to her twisted shorts and up to her sweetly exposed breast, throbbing need and gentle affection overwhelmed him.

  “You are the sexiest, prettiest, most amazing woman I’ve ever known.”

  She got her lips to smile, but it looked like it cost her. “Mmm.” Lazily, she sighed. “How am I supposed to work now?”

  “You’ll see.” He slowly took his hand from her shorts and brought his fingers first to his nose, stirring even more at the scent of her musk, then put them in his mouth.

  Maybe a little embarrassed, Charlotte watched him.

  He touched her cheek with his fingers, smiling at her shock. “It’ll be easier for you now. Working through lust is a bitch—I know, because you’ve kept me there from the moment we met. Now you’ll be more relaxed.”

  “So relaxed I almost feel comatose.”

  “You’ll recoup.” He shifted, winced and said, “Sorry,” as he reached down to rearrange himself.

  That made her eyes widen. “You’re...”

  “Hard enough to be deadly, yeah.” Also happier than he’d ever known was possible. “Don’t worry about it.”

  She gave a short laugh. “That hardly seems fair since I...” Her cheeks warmed. “You know.”

  “Got yours?” Her modesty amused him. “God, I’m glad. Today, with you, will be one of my best memories ever. It was a gift, and I thank you for it.”

  “Pfft.” Already recovering, she sat up and tucked her breast away. “I’m not a selfish person.”

  Far from it. “You’re a beautiful person.” He felt too good to move yet, so he crossed his arms behind his head. “There were more things I meant to tell you.”

  “Like?” She half turned to face him, tentatively put a hand on his chest, then stroked down to his abs.

  Out of self-defense, Mitch caught her hand and flattened it to his stomach. “Much more of that and I’ll never get things under control.” To be safe, he sat up too and picked a piece of dried grass from her hair. “Will you have dinner with me tonight at the house? We’ll have more privacy there?”

  “Yes,” she said without hesitation—and looked down at his lap. “I could maybe...?”

  He almost wanted to hear her finish that thought, because he knew she’d put a Charlotte-type spin on it. “Finish that thought tonight, maybe after we’ve had dinner and talked some more.”

  “How about I finish my thought when I first arrive, and we have dinner and talk after?”

  He looked at her earnest face and laughed. “Sounds like an offer I can’t refuse.” Wishing he could keep her here a little longer, he pushed to his feet, and helped her up next to him. “Love the shorts, by the way.”

  She gave him another mischievous smile. “They were a good idea, weren’t they?”

  “One of the best.” Holding her hand and leading her back to his car, he added, “Tonight I’ll enjoy stripping them off you.”

  She faltered a step, put her free hand to her heart, and let out a long breath. “It’s going to be a very long day.”

  No kidding. But tonight would be the payoff.

  * * *

  CHARLOTTE ARRIVED AT the office to find Ros had organized everything very neatly for her. Bless the woman, she was the only one Charlotte trusted to touch the paperwork. Brodie or Jack would have gone off course with some method of their own and totally confused her system. She’d have spent an hour fixing what they’d done in ten minutes.

  Ros, on the other hand, had taught her the system and so she already understood it.

  She would have liked to talk to Ros, to share—just a tiny bit—of her relationship with Mitch, but late morning things got hectic and only got crazier as the day went on. Brodie and Jack both had jobs that took them out of town until dinnertime. Mary went with Brodie, and Ronnie filled in with a few local jobs.

  If things kept up like this, they’d need to hire another person.

  Ros had mentioned how much she’d like to bring Mitch onboard, but Charlotte had a feeling the landscaping business would better suit him once he got it going. She could see him working out in the sunshine, sweat on his back, using his hands to build, grow and beautify nature.

  His current plan was slowly unfolding, but thanks to Newman’s intrusion in their lives, he had several things on his mind.

  Despite the workload, she floated through the day, juggling phone calls, sending out invoices, setting new appointments and sorting files.

  It was midday when Ros decided to run to the store for groceries. Purse ov
er her shoulder, she paused in the doorway to the office, catching Charlotte on one of the few times she’d been able to sit at the desk.

  “Ronnie should be here any minute. Do you think you’d be okay by yourself for a bit? I want to grab some steaks for dinner.”

  “What?” Looking up from the paperwork, Charlotte took in her worried expression and smiled. “Of course. I’ll be fine.”

  “You’re not nervous after what happened? Them coming here, I mean?”

  “I don’t think they’d dare to try that twice.”

  Unconvinced, Ros said, “You’ll lock the door behind me? Stay inside until Ronnie gets back, or Mitch shows up?”

  “Absolutely.” No, she wasn’t extra nervous after Newman’s surprise visit, but neither would she take chances.

  Ros looked at her a moment longer, and grinned. “There’s a glow about you.”

  “You can see it?” Hands to her cheeks, Charlotte thought about the morning, what Mitch had done, how he’d made her feel, and she laughed. “I didn’t know it showed.”

  Coming farther into the room, Ros propped a hip on the edge of the desk and touched Charlotte’s hair—and came away with a blade of grass. “I take it Mitch is responsible?”

  She nodded happily. In a whisper, sort of tasting the words, she admitted, “I didn’t know. Before Mitch, I had no idea...”

  “I’m glad you’re seeing things how they should be. I’m a big believer that when the right one comes along, there’s no use fighting it.”

  That sobered Charlotte. “The way you’re fighting it with Elliott?”

  “Different story.” Rather than deny it, Ros said, “I’ve been there, done that, and know how it ends. I hope—I pray—that Mitch isn’t like him in that regard.”