If her brothers found out…
No.
Not going there.
If they had their way, she’d mind the front office forever, wear button-down cardigans in a hundred and twenty-degree heat, and lipstick from sunup to sundown because that’s what mother did.
Jesse was not their mother. She might have been born a color-in-the-lines kind of girl, but it wasn’t technically like there were any rules about going home with boys. Except the one: Thou shalt not let thy older brothers know about it.
For crying out loud, she was twenty-nine years old and hadn’t been a virgin for nearly ten of those years. What her brothers didn’t know about wouldn’t hurt them. Tomorrow, she’d get Everly to corroborate her story, and that would be the end of it.
First, she’d have to survive tonight.
Hunter turned his Jeep into the apartment complex’s parking garage, complete with key card entry and a security code entrance. For a guy with such a devil may care appearance, he took his safety seriously.
What else did he take seriously? And what did he do for fun?
“You okay, explosives expert?”
“Hm? What?” Jesse shook her head.
When had Hunter parked? The Jeep was off and Hunter’s hand was wrapped around hers. She stared at his thumb against her wrist. There were parts of Hunter she identified with. They were hard-working people who did jobs that required excellence. If either of them screwed up, people got hurt or died.
It made deciding in Hunter’s favor a lot easier when he’d whispered those four little words in her ear earlier.
Come home with me?
She swallowed at the memory of his lips against her ear.
Hunter might look like a bad boy, but he was a good bad boy, if that made sense. It did in her screwed-up head.
He let go of her and leaned against the door, eyes heavy lidded.
“You know I can take you back to your truck right now if you like?”
Oh, he didn’t just say that, did he?
If she’d had any reservations, they were gone now.
“You can take me back later.” She released the catch on her seat belt.
“Stay there for a second.”
She swallowed. He better hurry up or she’d lose her nerve again.
Her history with men was…not typical. She didn’t date. She couldn’t. Not with three over-protective brothers. Besides, the minute a guy started hanging around, her crew got it into their heads that she was an actual female and then the shit would start. They’d stop listening to her. Something would get screwed up. Her brothers would blame her. It would all go downhill. Which meant the only time she could connect on a sexual level was for a night. For a moment. For now.
Hunter didn’t seem like the kind of guy to stick around, which made this perfect in a way she hated.
He circled the Jeep and opened her door.
A bad boy with manners…
She reached for his hand and extracted the voluminous skirt from the seat. And here she’d had to buy a dress for her friend’s party. She almost felt like a real girl, if she were wearing heels and—oh holy mother of cheese whiz. She was wearing bicycle shorts under her dress.
Jesse groaned inside her head.
Spandex shorts were so not cute when it came to getting naked with a guy. How the hell was she going to get out of them without Hunter noticing?
Shit.
Maybe she should pull a fast one, change her mind. If she asked for a rain check, would he still be interested tomorrow night or next week?
Hunter tugged her hand and turned. She walked straight into him, and not in a cute way. The top of her head banged against his chin and she trampled his foot.
“Ow.” She rubbed the top of her head.
“Crap, are you okay?” Hunter chuckled, one hand holding his chin, the other around her waist.
“I think so.”
“So much for being smooth.” He dipped, buzzing her lips with a kiss.
Her stomach knotted up and her knees went a little weak.
Right—that’s why she wasn’t leaving. When was the last time her knees went weak?
“Come on.” Hunter led her through a door with a security PIN access point, down a carpeted hall to a door just like any other on that hall.
Except he had a key for this one.
He pushed the door open with one hand and wrapped his other arm around her waist, ushering her into the darkened apartment. She had the impression of high ceilings, an open kitchen, dog toys, an empty crate and worn, leather furniture.
He had a dog? That was a mark in his favor, for sure.
“Mind if I use your bathroom?” She got out before she forgot to think.
“Sure, hang a right and it’s there. Want a drink?”
“Only if it’s water.” The truth was, Jesse had never been able to handle alcohol, so she avoided it altogether. Who knew what dumb things she’d spout if he got some liquor in her?
She scuttled around the corner and through the darkened door into a long, rectangular bathroom. Jesse shut the door and flipped the lock—just in case—and leaned against the cool, wood surface for several moments. She stared at her reflection, her head spinning. Her thoughts couldn’t get traction. She just stood there for a while longer. Who’d have thought when she got ready to go to the fundraiser that she’d go home with a hot, hunky fireman? Not her! This was not the kind of thing Jesse did. And yet, here she was.
“You okay in there?” Hunter tapped on the door.
She jumped away from it like she’d been burned and stared at the twin shadows under the door.
“Yeah, fine. I’ll be out in a second.” She turned on the tap and scampered across to the toilet.
Hunter’s footsteps thumped away from the door, giving her a moment of peace.
Jesse lost no time working the shorts off, which left her with a new problem.
What the hell did she do with them?
Her purse was tiny, barely big enough for her phone, keys and lip balm. She didn’t have any pockets. There wasn’t room in her bra to stash the shorts. Her breasts were already trying to escape out the top of her dress anyway.
What the hell was she going to do with them?
The only option she saw was throwing them away. She frowned at the white shorts. They were old, but not worn out. Still not something she wanted a sexy guy to pull off her. Which meant they had to go. Jesse slipped them into the covered trash can and for safekeeping, tossed a little toilet paper on top of the shorts.
They’d seen better days anyway.
She flushed the toilet to conceal her little deception, then stood back and looked at herself once more in the mirror.
A dress and some mascara didn’t change who she was.
Jesse would always be a little awkward with her head in the clouds when she wasn’t working. No one ever said this—between her and Hunter—had to be permanent. She had needs just like any other woman, and through that door was a man who’d meet every need she could put on the table, if she was woman enough to admit them.
3.
Jesse opened the bathroom and stopped. Froze was more like it. Oh, how foolish she’d been to think Hunter was giving her space. He’d merely waited for her to fall into his trap.
Hunter stood with both hands braced on either side of the door. Again, the way he stared at her was…predatory. Hungry.
He didn’t move, just stared at her.
There was nowhere for her to go, so she stared back.
His chest and arms were well-muscled, sleek. He had those…what were they called? They had a real name, but Jesse could only think of the term lick lines. The deep, V of muscle that pointed straight to his unbuckled belt. An invitation, if she’d ever seen one, though she was a little worried about getting bitten if she tried to pet him there.
Had his parents been forewarned to name him Hunter? Or was this a case of the name informing the man?
She swallowed and took a step back.
“Sorry,” Hunter mumbled, yet he didn’t sound or look apologetic at all.
“For what?”
“I didn’t get that drink.” He pushed off the doorway and reached for her, wrapping his hand around hers, tugging her to follow him.
Drink?
What drink?
He backed up, leading her into his bedroom. A single lamp cast a warm glow on the space, not that there was a lot to see.
Dresser.
Bed.
Night stand.
Closet door.
The essentials.
“I’ve been thinking about this skirt all damn night.” Hunter reached down to her knee and touched bare skin. She jumped at the contact, but he stayed with her, his palm sliding up her inner thigh.
“Oh?” She nearly swallowed her tongue from the casual contact alone.
He pulled her up against his chest, his mouth on hers. She grasped for his shirt before she remembered—he wasn’t wearing one. His muscles bunched under her palms, his hands sliding further down her spine, the other gripping her thigh, his fingers touching the edge of her panties.
Jesse stumbled over her own feet. Hunter’s grip tightened and he walked her back until her bottom hit the low, long dresser she’d glimpsed earlier. He bent and hooked his hands under her knees, forcing her up on the dresser.
All the better to not make a fool of herself.
Don’t mind if I do…
Hunter’s gaze remained on hers. He didn’t stare at her boobs or rush to get her naked. He…watched her. That alone was different. It was like he was reading her, waiting for a sign, a signal, something, and she wasn’t sure what she should be doing.
“Relax,” he whispered.
Hunter slid his hands up under her skirt, his palms gliding across her thighs, his touch just rough enough to make her notice. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her panties, which was a relief. She didn’t know how long she could handle him looking at her like that without combusting. She swallowed and lifted her hips while he slid the utilitarian, cotton underwear off her legs. They were only a smidge sexier than her spandex shorts.
Hunter didn’t even glance at them.
He straightened, one hand on her knee, the other sliding back up her thigh.
This was it. They were going to do it.
She gripped the edge of the dresser, unable to look away, hyperconscious of her breathing, the dirt clinging to her legs, the ever present smell of dogs on her clothes.
She had shaved, hadn’t she?
Fuck. She couldn’t remember and it was far too late to worry about that now.
“Watching me like that’s a good way to drive me crazy.” Hunter’s voice was lower. Rougher.
“Like—how?” She was just looking at him looking at her, right?
He rubbed his knuckles over her mound.
Warmth pooled low in her belly. The muscles across her abdomen tightened. She fought the urge to squeeze her thighs together.
“Like you want me to fuck you.”
“Were we supposed to do something else?” Unless she’d really misunderstood him when he asked her to come with him, that was precisely what she thought was about to happen.
“There’s a difference between fooling around, having sex and fucking.” He cupped her mound, pressing his fingers against her slit.
“Oh.” She planted her hands on the dresser and shifted her hips, helping his fingers find the right spot.
As far as she was concerned, they could do all three.
He pressed a digit between her folds, curling it inside of her. She shifted, trying to take him deeper but Hunter moved with her, giving her just the tip.
“Kiss me?” She lifted her chin.
Hunter leaned into her, thrusting his tongue past her lips without hesitation and pumping his fingers inside of her. He kissed like a starving man, like he needed her as much as she needed him. She groaned into his mouth, shifting her hips. This—this was what she’d wanted. The connection she had with Hunter was raw and real.
He stepped closer, his hips between her knees, finger fucking her until her toes curled.
She could come like this, on his hand, with no shame whatsoever. And she wanted to.
“Fucking hell.” Hunter straightened, tearing his mouth from hers and his hand from between her legs.
She whimpered, the unsatisfied need gnawing at her.
“Stay right there.” He stared at her until her gaze focused for one blessed second.
Where did he think she was going to go?
Jesse watched him cross to the nightstand, one hand working the tab of his jeans open. He rummaged in the drawer for a moment before coming back with a gold foil package and a grunt of triumph.
He turned and her mouth dried up.
Hunter hooked his thumbs into his boxer-briefs, toed one boot, then the other off, and stripped out of the rest of his clothing. She’d be impressed with the less-than-sixty-second maneuver if she didn’t need him now. Right now.
Oh, holy hell.
Jesse swallowed.
No wonder those fireman pants were so…big.
Hunter ripped open the foil packet and lost no time rolling the condom on.
She was a bit overdressed, but what did it matter? The important bits were easily accessible.
He crossed to the dresser, grabbed her by the knees and slid her forward until her ass very nearly slid off the edge. He bunched up her skirt, his gaze on her, one hand on his cock. She tightened her grip on the dresser and perched her toes on the drawer pulls. It was all happening so fast, she couldn’t think, just feel.
The head of his cock kissed her pussy, the heat of him searing her flesh.
She groaned and his gaze jerked up to her face. He edged forward, close enough to kiss her lips roughly. His hand gripped her hip and he flexed, sliding into her.
Jesse reached for him, gripping his shoulder for something real, human, to hold on to.
Fuck, she needed a bigger vibrator.
She braced herself for the too-tight thrust. The one that inevitably came with a bit of painful stretching…but it never happened.
Hunter held still, his tongue stroking hers, his teeth nipping her lip, the kiss gentling. She sucked down a breath, struggling to get air in past him and her need.
Her body trembled, held on the knife edge of fear and anticipation.
He didn’t force her body to fit his.
No, he took his time.
He fumbled with the zipper on her dress, lowering enough so that it gaped forward and let her breathe easier.
Jesse turned her face, her head buzzing, lungs needy for oxygen. Bit by bit, the tenseness in her abdomen and lower eased, but Hunter remained on task.
His lips trailed kisses down her neck. He dipped one damp finger into her constricting strapless bra. One swipe across her nipples and she groaned.
“That’s it,” he whispered.
He pulled the cups down, so they propped up her breasts, and studied them a moment.
Hunter licked his digits, his gaze intent on hers, and rubbed his fingers over her nipples.
“Oh!” She thrust her chest forward, her vision blurring.
Jesse felt his fingers around her pussy once more, drawing moisture up over her clit. He pressed forward and this time his cock slid into her without any of the previous tightness.
“Oh—hell yeah, Jesse. Fuck.” He slid his hand to her ass, the other into her hair. “How’s that feel?”
“Yes.”
“Yeah?” The puff of his breath across her cheek held laughter. He slid out and in, easy strokes. “Does that feel good?”
“Yes!”
“That’s my girl.”
He tightened his grip in her hair, pulling her forward, giving her the barest glimpse of his strength. And it was hot. She found his mouth, hungry for his kiss. Between the hold on her hip and her hair, he had her right where he wanted her. All she could do—all she had to do—was hold on.
Hunter left
easy and slow behind. His thrusts grew harder. The dresser thumped against the wall. She felt the impact of their bodies in the jiggle of her breasts and deep within her core. Over and over again, he fucked her, driving the pleasure higher, winding her up until she felt the need to orgasm even in her fingernails.
Still, she wanted more.
Jesse leveraged herself on the drawer pulls, working with him, seeking more of him. The feeling of their bodies joining. Hunter stared deep into her eyes, the lines of his face fierce, handsome.
She made him this way.
Plain-Jane Jesse.
She scraped her nails up over his chest and shoulders, pulling him closer until he lifted her bottom off the dresser, driving up into her. The new angle hit a spot, rubbing a place deep within her body.
“Oh!” Jesse tossed her head back, her arms trembling.
All at once, the pleasure crested, washing over her in a wave of release, robbing her of her senses. She was vaguely aware of Hunter lifting her hips, of his thrusts, the sound of his shout near her ear, but it was a blur.
The next time she opened her eyes, her face was buried in the crook of Hunter’s neck. She could feel his breath on her shoulder. Her arms and legs were wrapped around him like he was her very own fireman pole. And the stupid underwire bra was trying to poke a hole in her armpit.
“You okay?” Hunter asked between panting breaths.
“Yeah, yeah, I’m okay.” No, she was fan-freaking-tastic, but that would take effort to say.
“Good. Next time I’ll remember to prime the engine a bit more. Sorry about that.”
“Prime the—what?” And next time? Jesse’s brain just wasn’t firing on all cylinders. She couldn’t be hearing him right.
Hunter picked his head up off her shoulder. This close, she could see a bit of blue in the green of his eyes.
“You weren’t wet enough. I got too carried away.”
“Oh—uh—sorry…”
“That’s not your fault.” He grinned and cupped her bottom with both hands. “That’s on me.”
“Oh!”
He picked her up, turned and carried her the few steps to the bed.
Was next time—now?
Was it greedy to want another go so soon?
Up in Flames (Firehouse Three Book 1) Page 3