“He okay?”
“He’s fine. It wasn’t that big of an injury. A pretty neat cut, all things considered. I cleaned it and bandaged him up.”
Lucas watched her as he sprayed down the truck. “I feel like that may not be the end of the story.”
Damn, he’d always been a little too observant. “Yeah well, it’s the only story you’re getting.”
She forced a lighthearted grin before turning and heading into the firehouse. She should’ve known he wouldn’t let it go, though, because the rest of the shift he tried to get it out of her.
But she couldn’t talk about it. Wouldn’t. What was the point? Whatever weird chemistry had been between her and Russ on Thursday night was over and done with. Clearly he’d found her lacking in some way with that comment about not being a good fit.
Which was bullshit. He must’ve been seeing something she wasn’t, because that kiss had been intense as all get out. He’d set her blood on fire that entire night together, and she was confident that he’d been equally affected.
Until he’d walked away.
Well screw it. She didn’t want anyone who didn’t want her. There were plenty of men out there who were interested in her if she just wanted to get laid.
The rest of the shift passed slowly, and she was mindlessly cutting carrots in the kitchen for stew—she was on cooking duty—when Lucas came back into the kitchen. The knowing smirk on his face had her heaving a weary sigh.
“You’re still not getting shit out of me, Lucas,” she warned him as she tossed the carrots into the casserole dish.
“He’s here.”
“Who is?” But the hairs on the back of her neck lifted.
“Your club owner boy. He’s out front asking to see you.”
A wave of hot and cold rushed through her and she swallowed hard.
“You’d better not be messing with me,” she muttered and strode past him into the entryway to the firehouse.
Sure enough Russ was standing there waiting, her sweatshirt gripped in his hand. He looked just as sexy as he had the other night at the club. The vintage Pearl Jam T-shirt that hugged his chest had her gaze lingering there. Her fingers curled so she wouldn’t reach out and see if he was as hard as he looked.
“Hey.” He nodded when he saw her, gave a slight smile. “You left this at the club.”
She took the sweatshirt from his hand and tucked it under her arm.
She hadn’t even realized she was missing it. The old Oregon Ducks sweatshirt had seen better days. “Thanks. Seems like you went through a lot of trouble to bring it to me.”
“Seems like I did,” he agreed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “So, I’m just going to be honest. I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her heart jumped, but she kept her response deadpan. “Really.”
“Really.”
“You realize I’m at work.”
“Yeah, well I didn’t get your number, so I figured I’d just run the sweater by. Try and talk to you.”
She stared at him, trying to understand just what it was he wanted. “How did you even figure out which station I was at?”
“Wasn’t hard. Just a little searching on the Internet and a phone call.”
Why had he gone through the trouble after being so quick to blow her off? To pretend their few hours together hadn’t been pretty amazing? Whatever game he was playing, she wanted no part of it.
“Look, I need to get back to—”
“I want to see you again, Shannon.”
His soft declaration made her stomach warm and little butterflies come to life inside it.
“It’s good to want things.” She folded her arms across her chest. “You were probably spot on when you said we weren’t a good fit.”
Lucas popped his head into the room and hollered, “Going out on a call.”
“I’ll be there in two seconds.”
He nodded and disappeared again.
“I need to go.” She didn’t take her gaze of off Russ. “Thanks for my sweater.”
“You’re welcome. Take this too.”
He handed her what looked like a business card, and she shot him a quizzical look.
“It has my cell number on the back. I want you to text me later.”
“No promises.”
“Fair enough.” He gave that slow smile, the one that didn’t seem to be about humor. “I’ll talk to you soon.”
Well wasn’t he just overly confident. She didn’t wait for him to leave, but instead turned and headed back into the bay to gear up for the call that’d come in.
Later, when she was off shift and at home, she stared at the card in her hands. She was lying in her bed, knowing she should get some sleep, but her mind wouldn’t shut down. While they grabbed a few naps at the station during her 24-hour shift, usually she crashed for a few hours after it.
But sleep was clearly evading her, and before she could overthink it, she texted him.
So what’s your deal? You’re hot. You’re cold. You’re like that damn Katy Perry song.
She hit send without saying who she was. He’d figure it out pretty quick.
Chapter Eight
Russ was marinating meat to grill later when his phone buzzed with an incoming text. He glanced over at it, sitting at the other end of the counter, and his blood quickened.
Was it her? He set down the meat, washed and dried his hands, and then grabbed his phone.
Yeah. It was Shannon.
His stomach knotted. Now how did he answer that kind of question? Honesty was a good start.
I’m kind of an asshole at times, I guess. He grinned and couldn’t resist adding. And did you really just reference Katy Perry?
There was another pause before she wrote back.
Katy Perry is my girl. If you can’t get on board with that, this textversation is done.
He grinned, fingers flying across the tiny keyboard. Have I told you how much I love Katy Perry?
Yeah, that’s what I thought. There was a pause before the next text came in. You know, you didn’t seem like an asshole in school. And not the other night, either. So why did you freeze me out?
Russ leaned back against the counter, phone in his hands, and sighed. How did he answer that? How did he explain? Again, maybe the truth was best. It was definitely easier through text.
There’s no question I’m attracted to you. Or that I’d love to get you into bed.
He hit send, trying to decide on how to phrase the rest of it. She replied before he could.
Cute, because I’m literally in bed right now.
Oh damn. The images that flitted through his head had his blood stirring.
And don’t be like a pervy dude on a hook-up app and ask me what I’m wearing.
He laughed and rubbed a hand over his chest before typing back. I wasn’t going to.
Though he’d sure as hell been tempted.
So what’s stopping you from going to bed with me? Honestly, I was probably a sure deal the other night. Not so much anymore.
His cock went semi-hard at the admission. At the visual of taking her. He only indulged in it for a moment, and then glanced over at the steaks marinating in a large pan and typed a reply.
We should have this conversation in person. Come have dinner with me. I’m grilling steak and have extra.
Maybe the steak would sway her. One could hope.
I need to catch some sleep first. I can be there by five or six. Address?
Ready for her to hedge, or maybe even an outright refusal, her reply pleased him. He typed in the address and hit send.
The devil on his shoulder made him text one more thing. See you tonight. Don’t wear any panties.
He waited for her to reply. To either curse him out or tell him dinner was off. But there was no response, and a sliver of unease went through him.
Maybe he’d gone too far. His fingers itched to send her another message. To assure her that last text hadn’t been a requirement.
&nbs
p; But no. This was who he was. Kidding or not—and really, it was more not—if she couldn’t handle him like this, she probably wouldn’t be able to handle him in the bedroom.
He set down his phone and went to set the marinating steak in the fridge. He wouldn’t worry about it. If she showed up, fanfuckingtastic. If she didn’t, well then he’d just take his ass down to the club and have a couple drinks to take the edge of disappointment off.
The rest of the afternoon was passed with a trip to the gym, some house cleaning, and a shower just before she’d promised to arrive.
Five o’clock came and went. Then five-thirty. His stomach didn’t start to get heavy with regret until ten to six.
At five to six, his doorbell rang.
He let out a breath that released all his fear that she wouldn’t show, and then went to open the door.
She stood on his porch in a knee-length red dress that hugged her upper body and flared out over her hips. It was completely different from the jeans and T-shirt of the first night, or the non-sexual work outfit he’d seen her in at the station. This highlighted everything feminine about her and was beyond flirtatious.
She’d done more than just show up. Clearly she wanted to look good, and he had to admit—running a gaze over her one more time—she’d done a damn good job.
His confidence jumped a notch. “You came.”
“Well not yet. But it’s still early.” She smiled and moved past him. “I brought some Jack Daniels and Coke. I’m not really a wine girl.”
And the pluses about her kept coming.
“I don’t do wine either. Save your whisky, I’ve got some amazing stuff from one of my customers who owns a local distillery.”
“Now that just sounds fun. Sign me up.”
He followed her as she made her way, completely unabashed, through his house. It wasn’t a hard layout, and she found his kitchen easily enough.
She set her bottle of jack and her purse on the counter and then turned around and leaned against it, bracing her elbows on the edge.
“What can I do to help?”
Now there was a loaded question. He went to his cabinet, pulled out the understated bottle with typewriter font.
“You can try this first.”
“Well now if that bottle doesn’t just scream made by hipsters, I don’t know what does.”
She watched as he poured them each two fingers into a square glass.
“You want it with soda to cut it?”
After a moment’s hesitation, she shook her head. “No. I’ll try it straight up first.”
He handed her the glass and watched as she tilted it back, taking a small swallow. Her eyes got a little brighter, maybe a bit watery, but then she made a murmur of approval.
“It’s good.”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yeah. But pour in some Coke now. I’m not used to this stuff alone. It burns.”
Laughing, he opened her bottle of Coke and then added it to her drink. “It’s actually pretty smooth compared to some of the stuff out there.”
“I know it is.” She took another sip of her drink, closed her eyes, and nodded. “Yeah. This is the stuff. It’s good.”
He took a sip of his whisky straight, savoring the warm smoothness as it went down.
“I’m a big fan,” he murmured. “We’re going to start offering it at the club.”
“Smart move.” She moved past him to the freezer and grabbed a couple pieces of ice for her drink. “So are we talking first, or eating?”
She was so straightforward. Assertive. He wasn’t really used to that trait in the women he went after, but it didn’t turn him off.
“Depends. Are you hungry?”
She quirked a brow and swirled her glass so the ice clinked against the side.
“Yeah. I’m hungry.”
Usually he was the one making innuendos. And right now, he was pretty sure she was making one.
“Steak?”
She lifted a shoulder. “If that’s what you want.”
He took another sip of whisky and watched her steadily. “The crux of it is, Shannon, I’m not sure you can handle what I want.”
Chapter Nine
For a moment she didn’t reply, just seemed to be trying to read him. “Why don’t you tell me exactly what that is, and let me decide?”
He set his drink on the counter and then slowly approached her. When they were nearly touching he placed his palms on either side of her. She smelled like soap and faintly of some spicy perfume.
Her head tilted back slightly to look up at him, and he watched her chest rise as she drew in a deep breath.
“I want you to give up control.”
There was a hint of confusion in her eyes and she gave a small shake of her head.
“In the bedroom, Shannon,” he clarified softly. “I like to be in charge.”
Her lips rounded in an O of realization and he could almost swear she was blushing. Clearly the idea was new to her.
“That’s why you didn’t think we could work? Why we wouldn’t be a good fit?”
Whether she blushed or not, she held his gaze.
“You’re a very strong woman, and that’s a great thing.” He moved one hand to trace a finger down the soft skin of her jaw. “But it also means I’m not sure you’d take well to being told what to do.”
She swallowed visibly. “Well, at work, I really don’t have a choice. But in the bedroom it’s always been a pretty equal playing ground.”
“And I’m asking you to change that.” He traced his finger down to her neck and then over her collarbone. “To let me be in charge. You think you could handle that?”
She shivered beneath his touch. “I don’t even know, honestly.”
“Well answer me this.” He moved his finger lower to trace the top curve of her breast that peeked up from her dress. She gave a soft moan and her body trembled again.
“What would your reaction be if I told you I wanted you on your knees. Now. With my cock in your mouth.”
Shock came first, widening her eyes, before they closed slightly. They glimmered not with fury, but with excitement. Interest.
A wave of surprise swept through him, followed by triumph. Had he completely misjudged her? Was it possible she would be into such a thing?
“How far do you take it? What are your rules?” Her words were low, but steady.
“You do whatever I tell you to. You tell me when it’s too much and we stop. I stop.” He dipped his finger lower and into her cleavage. “I never want you to feel like you’re doing something you don’t want to do.”
“Damn. I did not see this coming when I came here tonight.” She gave a shaky laugh. “You’re asking a lot.”
“I know. And if you want to say no now, then we walk away and keep it on a friendship level.”
She lifted her gaze to his again. “And if I say yes?”
His chest swelled right along with his cock, now straining against his jeans. Already he envisioned himself inside her. Feeling the slick heat of her body gripping him.
“If you say yes,” he leaned down to kiss the side of her neck. A quick taste on his lips of the brown, satiny skin that had been tempting him since he’d first seen her at the club. “Then we start now. You’ll turn around and place your hands on the counter.”
She was silent, and completely still now. Russ’s pulse thundered in his body and his chest tightened as he realized what her response would likely be.
She was going to push him away—gently or forcefully—and repeat his statement that they weren’t a good fit.
She gave a small nod and straightened up, her gaze not quite meeting his. “Well then...”
Instead of pushing him away, she wiggled around until she was facing the counter. Her ass thrust back toward him and her palms came up to rest on the surface.
If he had any doubt that she meant business, her husky next words erased them.
“Let’s do this.”
From the frying pan
into the fire.
Was she out of her mind? Or just tapping into a super filthy side of it?
Shannon’s arms shook slightly as she waited for him to make the next move. She bit back a manic laugh. Every move was his according to the rules she’d just agreed to.
Give up control. Something she’d never, ever done. Would she hate it? Love it?
Well, no going back now. She’d just committed to try it. She’d figure out pretty fast whether this was her thing or not.
When Russ didn’t immediately do anything, a slow tension wound through her muscles. But then she felt it. The fabric of her skirt being tugged up, and then she heard the quick breath he drew in.
“Look at you.” His raspy tone lifted the tiny hairs on her arms and tightened her nipples. “No panties, just like I asked. You were already following orders before you even got here.”
His hand slid between her legs to cup her mound and her legs began to tremble.
When he’d told her not to wear panties, she’d initially laughed it off. Then the idea of it, going bare beneath the dress, had become so damn sexy in her head she’d found herself stripping out of the tiny bikini underwear before leaving.
“And already wet, aren’t you, baby?”
He curled one finger into the cleft of her sex and she couldn’t stop the moan that spilled past her lips.
“Spread your legs.”
Mindless now, she obeyed his command and eased her feet further apart. The finger inside her dove deep into her channel before returning to circle her clit.
“I’ll make you come.” His soft promise was a brush of his lips against her ear while he continued to stroke her. The hint of whisky on his breath reached her nose. “But first, I’m going to take you. Just like this. With your pretty dress around your hips and you bent over my counter.”
Fire rocketed through her at his dirty words. She whimpered, moving against his hand and rising as he rubbed her clit. She rose to her tiptoes, reaching for an orgasm that was so close.
There was a rasp of his zipper going down, and then the tearing of what had to be a condom. Shock mingled with the lust in her mind. He was really going to take her. This fast. No preliminaries.
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