by T Gephart
He was like a planet, his own gravitational force pulling you into orbit. And even though I had no reason to trust him, there was a part of me that wanted to. Maybe it was because of his kindness with Riley, maybe it was because he hadn’t demanded to know why I’d left, or maybe it was his calm, yet commanding voice. There was something innately good about him. Which was why I’d made two lapses in judgment.
One had been the phone call.
The other . . . getting into my car and driving to his condo in Midtown.
It was crazy, tearing through my wardrobe trying to find something to wear. But unless I recycled my new jean/knitwear combo, I was coming up empty on suitable date attire.
Was it even a date?
I thought I’d already agreed I wasn’t going to date. Intent on steering clear of messy complications and just enjoying being by myself for a while.
It was a blurry line. And considering how our last one had kind of dissolved into less date and more sex, I wasn’t sure whether or not it fell into my own loophole. And if the second time would follow the same path.
Did I want it to?
Of course I did.
Did he?
I literally had no idea.
Clearly—for reasons I didn’t understand—he was interested in seeing me again. Although he’d made it clear that it wasn’t about sex and having no expectations. But what I couldn’t work out was if that was for his benefit or mine.
It wasn’t until I was stopped in front of the grated metal door of the parking garage of his condo that I realized I didn’t have the code or a way to get in. I’d driven the entire way on autopilot, lost in my own head.
My fingers shook—a mixture of nerves and excitement—as I dialed his number, leaving the car idling.
“You downstairs?” he asked, not bothering with a greeting.
“Yeah.”
“Good, I’ll be down in a minute to let you in.”
Click.
That was it.
The phone was still pressed to my ear when the call ended, the briefness of it catching me off guard. He hadn’t been surprised, or asked me why I’d changed my mind—nothing, he’d just told me he was on his way.
I hadn’t waited long, my fingers nervously drumming on the steering wheel as the grated door slowly rose allowing me access to the parking garage. I drove in slowly, circling the rows and looking for a vacant spot near where I’d parked the day before. Thankfully I found something, easing my car into park and stepping out.
“Oh fuck.” I grabbed my chest, finding Mack standing behind me, appearing out of nowhere. “You scared me.”
“Sorry,” he grinned. “Not exactly light on my feet, I assumed you saw me.”
If I hadn’t been running through a million scenarios in my head, he probably would have been right. But I still hadn’t worked out what—other than it wasn’t for fucking soufflé—I was doing there.
“You okay?” he asked, genuinely concerned. “Let’s get you up to my condo.” He held out his hand but made no other moves, keeping the physical contact ridiculously platonic as we walked toward the elevator.
The air between us was thick in the confined space, the scent of his cologne surrounding me and infecting me in ways that challenged my logical thinking. I wanted to kiss him. Wanted to touch him. And wanted him to do all of that to me and more.
Without thinking, I leaned forward, wrapping my hands around his neck and pressing my mouth to his. It was an echo from my past self, the girl who would kiss a man with a lip ring before even knowing his name and make out with him in a dark smoky corner. I wanted to be that girl, and take what I wanted.
He hesitated for a second.
Probably less, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me against his body as the kiss intensified. He didn’t ask, demanding more from my mouth as the door flew open as we reached his floor.
“Hayden,” he moaned into my mouth. “You’re going to make me burn my soufflé.”
I laughed, unable to stop the giggle as I pulled away. “That’s something I’ve never been accused of before.”
He brought our joined hands to his mouth, kissing my knuckles before leading me out, his front door ajar as he pushed it open and walked us in.
It was the funniest thing, the delicious smell of butter and cheese floating through the air at odds with his hard, masculine taste in furniture. I hadn’t really paid attention the night before, the dark woods, the black leather of his couch, and light gray walls very much advertised I was in a male-dominated space.
He was dressed casually, a pair of jeans and T-shirt, and unlike the night before when he’d been clean shaven, stubble tickled his jaw. He looked edible, more inviting than what was baking in the oven.
Dark brown restless eyes roamed over my body, my black leggings and a long fitted top hugging my figure more than I would have liked. I hadn’t even worn a coat, so absent minded when I left the house, I’d shivered my way to the car hoping I didn’t get hypothermia before my heater kicked in.
“You look amazing,” he leaned forward catching my lips with his before pulling away. “But I told you I was feeding you and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“Kitchen.” He tipped his head to the hall. “Sit down at the breakfast bar.”
He waited for me to go ahead, feeling the weight of his eyes on me as he walked slightly behind.
The move was totally sexy, making me feel more attractive than was probably right. But I didn’t care, swaying my generous hips a little more until I lowered my butt on a stool at his kitchen counter.
My eyes closed, taking in a big breath. “It smells amazing. I can’t believe you went to all this trouble.”
“Wouldn’t want you thinking I was making false claims,” he grinned, grabbing a tea towel and draping it over his shoulder. “It’s got about five more minutes.”
There was a lot I could do in five minutes.
Namely find out some of his other skills.
“So this how you get women? Lure them to your condo with the promise of decadent baked goods?” Instead I went with talking, trying to act nonchalant about returning to the scene of the crime of my one-night stand.
His eyes simmered, not breaking contact with mine as he spoke. “Thought I made it clear yesterday that I wasn’t in the practice of getting women.”
“I wasn’t sure if—”
“If I was feeding you a line or being serious.” He cut me off, a small smile edging across his lips. “I get it. But no, I don’t really date. I mean, there have been a few women since Melinda. Don’t want to misrepresent myself like I’ve been some celibate saint, but nothing really stuck.”
“How can that be?” I’d thought it as well as said it. “You’re so great.”
“Thanks, and I’m glad you think so. And I could say the same about you.” He winked, turning to the oven and looked through the glass door.
Tempted to argue, I fought the urge. I hadn’t come all that way, hungry and tired, to convince him I wasn’t great. “Thank you.” The words felt weird in my mouth, but not uncomfortable, a lot like how I was feeling.
“We should be just about there.” He popped open the oven door, taking a look before lowering it even more. “Perfect.”
He wasn’t kidding, using two tea towels so his fingers didn’t burn he pulled out a large round soufflé dish, the pillowy top bobbing gracefully above the edge. It was perfectly golden, impressively tall, and wouldn’t have looked out of place in Gourmet magazine.
I held my breath as he lowered it onto a trivet, waiting to see if the top would collapse but it didn’t. Like the rest of him, it remained impressive and unshaken. It was a contradiction of everything he was—this rugged, manly man who fought fires, creating something so soft and delicate.
“We can look at it all night, Hayden, but eating it is more fun,” he chuckled, grabbing a couple of plates and some forks and dishing it out.
It smelled delicious, my fork sliding through it effortlessly as he
watched me take my first mouthful. I didn’t even care he was watching, too hungry to stop. “Oh my God,” I moaned, my tongue curling around the fork to capture every last bit. “This is amazing. Wow, no wonder you earned enough for a car.”
“Good, eat up. I’ll grab us some drinks.”
He went to the fridge and grabbed a couple of beers while I took another bite, the second taste just as magical as the first. “Seriously, Mack, screw the car, you should sell this. You’d have a private jet in no time.”
“Don’t have any need for a private jet, and I like my regular job just fine.” He winked, helping himself to some of his handiwork. “But good to know I have something to fall back on if it all goes to shit.”
We ate in a comfortable silence, him standing on the opposite side of the breakfast bar. He didn’t ask questions, nor make me feel like I had to say something, refilling my plate without asking when it was empty, smiling at me while I tried to stop shoveling it into my mouth so fast.
It was only after we were done, stuffed beyond belief that he spoke. “You want some dessert? I have some ice cream tucked away in the freezer.” He cleared the plates, rinsing them in the sink before loading them into the dishwasher.
“Mack, if I eat another thing, I’m probably going to explode.” I groaned, thankful my leggings had a stretchy waistband so I wouldn’t have to worry about popping out of my pants. “But thank you, it was one of the best things I’ve ever tasted.”
It wasn’t a lie either, between his delicious meal and amazing company, I couldn’t remember the last time I’d enjoyed dinner so much.
“I really like hearing that, Hayden.” His smile edged wider, folding his arms across his chest before settling back on his heels.
He looked powerful, his strong arms contained against his massive, muscular body, an explosion just waiting to happen. But he didn’t move, the breakfast bar between us as he kept his distance.
It was intentional.
Ignoring the barrier, both physically and mentally, I slipped off my stool and walked to where he was. He hadn’t moved, letting me come to him. “Thank you for dinner.” My head tilted, bringing my lips closer and hoping he’d meet me halfway.
“It was my pleasure.”
His arms unfurled, wrapping around me as his mouth met mine, the kiss just as intense as the one in the elevator. I could feel him hard, the ridge in his jeans and my body pressed against his, my hands unable to help themselves as they roamed over his impressive chest. I loved how he felt, so raw and strong, yet so beautiful.
I couldn’t stop—kissing him, touching him—my mind fighting its own war while my body did whatever the hell it wanted. It was both wrong and right, and I couldn’t decide if I was going to regret it in the morning.
Without missing a beat, he picked me up like I weighed nothing and lifted me onto the countertop. I gasped, parting my knees, his hand in my hair as he filled the gap. I loved it, loved feeling the way his mouth moved over my skin as I rocked my hips against his erection. It was dirty, and hot, and in that moment I felt like I was twenty-two in a club.
“Fuck, you’re beautiful.” The words vibrated against my skin, his lips moving to my neck.
And God, did I believe him.
My fingers clawed at his T-shirt, peeling it off him so I could touch his skin, exploring every curve and dip like it was the first time. Seriously, his body was addictive and I wasn’t sure I’d ever get enough.
“Hayden,” Mack warned, holding me still. “There is nothing I want more than to take you to my bed right now. I want to lay you out and make you come so many times you can’t make out where one orgasm ends and the other starts. But I think you should go home.”
It was confusing, hearing those words and unable to work them out. “You want me to go?”
“No, I don’t.” He kissed me again. “I don’t want you to go anywhere. But it’s probably the right thing to do.”
Probably. Pity I didn’t want to do the right thing.
“Take me to bed anyway,” I moaned, shamelessly rubbing my body against his.
He chuckled against my throat, taking a few steadying breaths before taking a step back. “Not tonight, sweetheart. Deal was I give you soufflé and then you leave, and I’m a man of my word. But you let me know if your Saturday becomes available.”
Groaning in frustration—and slightly embarrassed—I pulled myself together.
As weird as it sounded, sex would have been the safer option. It would reaffirm—if only to me—that what we had was purely physical and I wasn’t going against my own rules. And even though I knew the connection could easily be more, I was hesitating opening that door.
But damn, he was making it difficult. Probably something I should have considered before hauling ass to his condo when he made it clear it wasn’t going to be a booty call.
And shit, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it.
Of course he was right. But even though he’d made assurances that all it was going to be was dinner, I couldn’t help but be annoyed at his integrity. It would have been the one time I’d have been totally cool with him going back on his word. Pity Mack didn’t see it the same way.
“Okay, okay, I’m leaving.” I shuffled my butt forward, sliding off the counter. “Guess we’ll have to wait until Saturday.”
“Is that a yes?” He tipped his head to the side, not bothering to hide his huge grin as his hands settled on my waist.
I shook my head, pushing lightly on his chest. “Yes, send me the details and I’ll meet you there.” My mouth agreeing to a date I’d been positive I’d turn down.
What the hell did he put in that soufflé? A few hours ago I’d been determined to cut him off entirely, and yet there I was, belly full of his delicious baked goods, agreeing to go to a club. If he wasn’t such a great firefighter, he’d make an excellent agent developing new compliance techniques for the FBI.
“Or I could pick you up,” making it sound more like a statement than a question as he lightly kissed my forehead.
“Let me think on that.”
Or at the very least, let the delicious persuasive measures he’d taken wear off so I could be sure I was making my own decision.
He didn’t fight me, letting me grab my handbag and then walking me back down to my car. Holding the door open for me as I slid into the driver’s seat, he waited until I was buckled in. “The code for the gate is 2727 in case there’s another night in the future you need a soufflé, or something else.”
I nodded, starting the ignition as I gave him one last smile. “I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Yeah, you will.” He tapped on the roof of the car and closed the door.
My hands hesitated on the wheel, looking at him through my side window as I rolled it down. “My last name is Green. Hayden Green.” I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to tell him, the extra information completely at odds with my initial plan.
He lowered his head, kissing me gently on the lips. “Well Hayden Green, drive safe.”
Never had a rejection ever felt so good, my body tingling from an unanswered need while my head appreciated the consideration. My overused vibrator was going to get a workout tonight. And on Saturday, he wasn’t going to be able to turn me down.
Mack
“COOKIES?” LEIGHTON SHOVED two of them into his mouth, chewing around the words. “I swear Rev’s wife is the best.”
Leighton was right in that Rev’s wife was pretty great. The woman could take roadkill and make it taste awesome, and cookies were her specialty.
“She didn’t make them, I did.”
He coughed, holding his chest, sounding like he was hacking up a lung as he gasped for air. “Jesus, Leighton, chew before you swallow them for Christ’s sake.” I stood up, slapping his back in between his shoulder blades.
“Everything okay?” North popped his head around the doorway, having just walked in and heard the commotion.
“Chief.” Leighton gasped between breaths. “Baked.”
Oh for fuck’s sake.
It was no secret that I knew my way around a kitchen, the byproduct of my mom’s bakery. And while I usually left it to Nora—Rev’s wife—to spoil us, every once in a while I got in touch with my inner Martha Stewart and broke out the Toll House.
“Chief baked?” The moron grinned. Not Leighton—he was still trying to regulate his CO2—the other one, North.
I rolled my eyes, wondering how much of a pain in my ass he was going to be for the rest of the day. “Yeah, thought I might do something nice for you guys, show you my appreciation. But considering the reaction, I might rethink any future displays.”
Of course I wasn’t being entirely honest.
Hayden had left me with a hard-on that didn’t have a hope and a prayer of leaving. And after jerking off in the shower had only been a temporary fix, I needed to find another strategy.
Nothing killed an erection quicker than childhood memories with your mother.
So cookies were baked, my balls were saved, and I eventually got a few decent hours of sleep.
Pity the remedy had led to a whole other set of problems.
Riley picked up one of the cookies, inspecting it before putting it into his smug mouth. “Not as good as Rev’s wife, but it’s a solid B-minus. Your ratio of cookie to chip is a little off though, must have been distracted.”
I eyed him hard, a silent warning that if he knew what was good for him, he’d keep his mouth shut. “Going to my office. Let me know if you don’t have enough to do.”
Taking my coffee and a few choc-chips—he was full of shit, there was nothing wrong with my cookies—I headed into my office. We’d already done the changeover, and I had a pile of paperwork I needed to get through, and the less time I spent thinking about Hayden, the quicker the day was going to go.
It was times like these that I missed being out on the engines. Wasn’t time to think when you were out on a call, it was you and your team and whatever chaos you faced when you turned up. Not that I didn’t love being a chief. It was rewarding in other ways—leading these men at the very top of that list—but the surge of adrenaline was MIA.