Just a Little Bet (Where There's Smoke)

by Tawna Fenske

  A surge of lust rippled through her as she lifted her gaze back to his. “I don’t want Oreos,” she said. “I want you.”

  He closed his eyes and pulled in a breath. “Damn.”

  It was more a prayer than a curse, and she smiled at the reverence in his voice. This time, when she grabbed the door handle, he let her. He was out of the driver’s seat and offering her a hand before she’d finished unbuckling her seat belt, which was probably good. Her legs felt like rubber stilts, and his hand on her elbow was a steadying comfort.

  Straightening her spine, Kayla put one high-heeled sandal in front of the other as they crossed the parking lot and made a brisk beeline for their room. They’d been sharing for two nights, but this was the first time it seemed inevitable they’d wind up in the same bed. Her pulse pounded in time with her footsteps as Tony squeezed her hand.

  He was steady as could be, long legs striding easily beside her. His coolness under pressure made him a great smokejumper and also a good friend. How many times had she called him freaking out about some problem, and he’d come to her rescue?

  She glanced up at him as he stopped in front of their door and slipped the key card into the slot. The red light blinked.

  He flipped it around, trying it the other way. Still no green light.

  “Wait.” Kayla licked her lips. “This isn’t a pity fuck, right?”

  He blinked at her, visibly startled. “What?”

  “You’re not doing this because you’d feel guilty saying no, right?”

  He barked out a laugh, jamming the card into the slot again. “Are you kidding me right now?”

  Heart thudding in her ears, she put a hand on his arm. “I want you to want it, too. Not just go through with it because I asked.”

  “Jesus, Kayla.” He left the card in the slot and turned to face her, raking his fingers through his hair. “I want you so fucking much I can’t think straight. My dick’s punching a hole through my fly right now, and I’m five seconds from kicking this fucking door down if the key card doesn’t work. Is that eager enough for you?”

  She nodded, grinning a little at his choice of words. “That works.”

  He turned back to fight the door. “Come on, come on. Work with me here, key card.” He tried the card again, flipping it around. This time, the light on the door blinked green, and they pushed their way through.

  Fireball glanced up from his crate as the door opened, tail wagging slowly. He gave one sharp bark, then rested his head on his paws and closed his eyes. Still exhausted from their five-mile run, thank God.

  Kayla strode through the door with Tony right behind her. She felt his breath skimming her bare back, sensed his eyes roaming her skin. When she turned, her gaze locked with his.

  Jesus. She’d never seen such hunger.

  The door was still swinging shut as he reached for her. Fingers tunneled through her hair, claiming her, possessing her. Backing her toward the bed, he kissed her hard and fierce.

  “Fuck, you feel good.” He growled the words against her mouth as the backs of her knees touched the mattress. She wobbled a bit, but he caught her and held her tight against his chest. Still kissing her, he eased her back on the bed.

  When he broke the kiss, his eyes sparked with wild heat. Dark hair spiked in wild tufts where she’d dragged her hands through it. He smelled amazing. Hotel soap and some kind of woodsy shampoo, but something else, too. Did lust have a scent?

  Tony touched the side of her face. “You’re calling the shots here. You want slow and gentle or rough and hungry?”

  She nodded, wanting all of it. Every single bit and then some. “Yes.”

  “Good.” He grinned. “Me, too.”

  And then his mouth was on hers as he scooped an arm under her and lifted her up the bed so her head rested on the pillow. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him tight against her heat.

  Her dress hiked up as the hard length of him settled at the strip of lace between her legs. Could he feel how wet she was? He still wore his jeans, but her center blazed like liquid fire. She squirmed against him, craving more friction.

  With a growl, he pulled his mouth from hers and looked into her eyes. “I love it when you grind on me. Like you could come just like that.”

  She laughed as he tilted his hips to press into her. “Keep moving that way, and I might.”

  “Yeah?” His dark eyes searched hers as he rolled his hips, pressing her back against the pillows. He moved again, his denim-clad cock stroking a path of sparks that shot straight through her.

  Kayla moaned and clenched her thighs around him, astounded to feel herself tilting toward the edge. That hadn’t happened since she was sixteen and panting in the back of her boyfriend’s car, savoring the thrill of good, old-fashioned dry humping.

  But she was thirty-one, not sixteen. What the hell was she doing?

  She didn’t know, but she knew she couldn’t stop. Not now. She’d forgotten how good this could be—the delicious scrape of friction, the damp rasp of her panties against her swollen folds. She groaned and arched up for more.

  “That’s it.” Tony whispered the words against her throat, licking the back of her ear as she pressed her clit against his hardness. “I can tell you’re getting close. The way you breathe, the way you’re tensing up like that. Come for me.”

  That sort of urging sometimes annoyed her, but not from Tony. Not when she was so close. Not when he was thrusting against her, whispering dirty words in her ear as she rubbed herself against the thick length of him.

  “Oh!” The orgasm slammed into her. She broke apart, arching up as he pushed into her. His thrusts spurred her through layers of lace and denim, and she cried out as he fucked her without penetrating her at all.

  How could sex feel this good with all her clothes on?

  She came down slowly, with Tony stroking her hair. He grinned and planted a kiss on her forehead. “That was number two.”

  Blowing a shock of hair off her forehead, Kayla raised both brows. “Orgasm?” She tightened her thighs around him. “You’re delivering multiple Os this evening?”

  He grinned and kissed her again, this time on the mouth. “Yes, but that’s not what I meant. I was talking about my fantasy list. The one with threesomes and whatever else I said back then?”

  Kayla dragged a hand down his chest, tracing ropes of muscle through his T-shirt. “Your second biggest fantasy was dry humping?”

  He laughed and eased back, taking some of his weight off her chest. “I wouldn’t put it that way, but yeah. Getting you off with all our clothes still on? Fucking hot.”

  She loved that he said you. That it wasn’t a generic fantasy to be filled by the woman of the hour. Even if it was, that’s not how Tony functioned. He was here in this moment with her, like she was the only woman in the world.

  And right now, she wanted more.

  She sat up and dragged her dress over her head. Just like Dr. O’Toole suggested, she’d worn her sexiest bra and panty set. She’d done it for herself, not for an audience, but she had to admit it felt good to see flames leap in his eyes. His gaze skimmed the black lace, lingering over her breasts before he met her eyes again.

  “So fucking beautiful.” He reached up to brush his fingertips over her nipples, tracing them with a reverence that made her shiver. “Do you have any idea how hot you are?”

  She didn’t know how to answer, so she kissed him instead. Her right hand went wandering, seeking out the thickness responsible for the hot glow inside her. His jeans were damp from her arousal, and a ripple of satisfaction fluttered in her belly.

  Working the button, she tugged his zipper down and wedged her hands in his waistband. “I want to taste you,” she said, working the jeans down over his hips. “Do I get a turn going down on you?”

  He nodded, fingers threading through her hair. “Anything you
want.”

  “Good. I want this.” Shucking his jeans and boxers, she pushed him back against the mattress. Now she was getting somewhere. She was the strong, independent woman she’d set out to be. Powerful. In control.

  Moving on hands and knees, she stretched out on her belly between his legs. Slowly, so slowly, she took him in her mouth.

  “Mmm.” She licked the bead of wetness from the tip, tasting salt and desire. He shuddered under her touch, and a fresh wave of power coursed through her.

  Releasing a sharp hiss of pleasure, he threaded his fingers through her hair. “Kayla. Fuck, you’re good at that.”

  She laughed and curled her tongue around him, wondering if she should confess to reading a blow-job book in college. She’d wanted to know what to do, how to act, how to please a man.

  But that had always come naturally with Tony. She knew without asking that he loved when she teased his balls with the tips of her fingers. That he loved how she eased back, sliding him out of her mouth with a soft pop before drawing him in again.

  “Christ, Kayla.” His voice was so ragged she barely recognized it.

  But she’d recognize his touch anywhere, his fingers in her hair, his thumb skimming her cheek. Determined to deliver the goods, she wrapped her hand around his shaft, using the tight grip as an extension of her mouth. She sucked him harder, letting her hair tickle his thighs.

  She kept going, as lost in his pleasure as he seemed to be. Each of his groans sounded like something dragged from his throat, and the clench of his fingers in her hair told her he was getting close.

  “Stop now if you don’t want this to be over before it starts,” he ground out. “I mean it, Kay.”

  Grinning, she eased up and sat back on her heels. “Yeah? And what comes next?”

  A wicked glint flashed in his eyes as he reached for her. “You.”

  Her giggle became a moan as he flipped her onto her back. She didn’t need to ask if he had a condom. Tony always came prepared. The crinkle of a wrapper had her smiling against his mouth as he kissed her and rolled the prophylactic on with one hand.

  “You’re such a multitasker,” she said between kisses, wriggling beneath him to peel off her panties.

  “Want to see me juggle bowling pins while playing harmonica?” His eyes clouded with desire as he probed her molten center with the head of his cock.

  Kayla shuddered but tried to hide it as laughter. “Pass,” she said. “Right now, all I want is that thing inside me.”

  “That thing?” He grinned. “It has a name, you know.”

  Oh, God. She’d almost forgotten. This was the fun part of sex with her best friend, who just happened to have confessed the name he’d given his penis at sixteen.

  Between giggles, she breathed the word with reverence. “Excalibur, the mighty sword.”

  Tony cracked up, losing his place for an instant. But he was back to gliding along her slick seam within seconds, still teasing as her body rippled with laughter.

  Why didn’t more men know this? That laughter and sex could be the best aphrodisiac on earth.

  She couldn’t stop smiling as he eased inside, sliding just the tip into her body. Kayla gasped, and Tony watched her face. “You good?”

  She nodded, wrapping her legs around him. “I will be in about six seconds.”

  “That long?” With a groan, he slid all the way inside her.

  Kayla cried out. “Oh, God.”

  He drew back, still watching her face. “Sorry, I didn’t think to ask if you still liked—”

  “Fuck me,” she panted, pulling him into her again. “Just like that.”

  “Can do.”

  Her arms and legs twined around him anaconda-like, almost as though her body feared he’d get away. But as Tony began to move, Kayla felt herself dissolve, easing into the rhythm of his body moving with hers.

  She arched up, desperate to feel all of him. His strokes were strong and even, exactly how she liked it. Opening her eyes, she saw him watching her, smiling in a way that sent her pulse hammering in her head.

  “What?” she breathed, moaning as he drove into her and hit something really good. “What’s that smile about?”

  “I’m here,” he murmured. “Where I never thought I’d be again.”

  But it wasn’t the same. Not for her, anyway. Something had shifted between them, though Kayla couldn’t have named what it was. He still fucked like a god, still knew just how to slide an arm under her hips so he could drive in and hit her G-spot.

  Even as she cried out and bowed against him, teetering closer to orgasm, she knew he felt it, too. This shift in molecules between them, an infinitesimal rearrangement of their connection.

  Maybe that’s what made the sex better. Or maybe it was just Tony, or the knowledge this couldn’t go anywhere. It was just sex—just friendship.

  As the climax swelled inside her and something burst behind her eyes, Kayla shouted her release. This—whatever this was between them—felt like magic, like coming home, like everything she’d been looking for but never knew existed.

  Tony groaned and followed her over the edge, thrusts powerful and wild as he murmured soft words in her ear. Sweet words, dirty words, words she couldn’t identify but knew on some primal level.

  Then he collapsed on top of her, rolling to the side and breathing against her neck. He held her tight, and Kayla clung to his chest, not sure what had just happened between them.

  But she was damn sure it wasn’t just sex.

  …

  Tony dressed quietly in the dark, trying not to rouse Kayla.

  “You leaving?” she murmured, lashes fluttering in the dim lamplight.

  “Just taking Fireball out.” He leaned down and kissed her temple, breathing in her scent. Warm flowers and vanilla and something unmistakably Kayla.

  She sat up, hair falling over her face as she clutched the sheet to her perfect breasts. “You don’t have to do that.”

  The urge to crawl back in bed with her nearly knocked him out, but he backed toward the door instead. “I don’t mind,” he said as Fireball yipped and danced around his ankles. “Just rest. I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

  “You sure?”

  “Positive.” He wanted to kiss her again but knew he’d never stop if he moved back toward the bed.

  So, he reached for the doorknob instead, one hand gripping Fireball’s leash. “Come on, pup. Let’s take care of business.”

  The little dog danced his way out the door with Tony lagging behind, gulping fresh air like it was the first oxygen he’d had in hours.

  What had he done?

  Sex. Just sex. That’s all it was.

  But he knew that wasn’t true.

  As Fireball tugged him over to a grassy patch beside a scraggly tree, Tony let his thoughts drift back to that hotel room.

  Everything about the last hour had burned into his brain. The curve of Kayla’s waist. The tickle of her hair on his chest. The way her eyes widened right before she came apart in his arms.

  The whole thing had been otherworldly.

  Which was bad.

  Not bad, exactly. Just…inconvenient.

  How was he supposed to keep his head on straight with Kayla’s soft moans echoing in his head? How was he supposed to concentrate on figuring out what secrets his exes might hold with the scent of Kayla’s skin clinging to his, the memory of her body clenching softly around him—

  “Stop.”

  Fireball looked up from sniffing the tree and cocked his head to the side.

  “Not you,” he told the dog. “You’re good. Keep doing what you’re doing.”

  Fireball wagged his tail and trotted closer, hopping up so his front paws rested on Tony’s shins. Damn dog was adorable. No wonder Kayla had been hell-bent on keeping the little mutt.

  Tony alw
ays wanted a dog. He’d convinced himself it wasn’t feasible—not with a smokejumper’s grueling schedule.

  That was true and all, but the truth—the real, ugly, dirty truth—was that Tony didn’t want a dog for the same reason he didn’t want kids.

  Because to be a good dad—to be the kind of father he knew kids deserved—he’d need to know what that even looked like.

  The fact was, he had no earthly idea. No clue how to be a good husband, either, though Grady seemed to be nailing it. If only that one example were enough to wash away the rest of the awfulness. If only there were some way to erase his knowledge of how miserable marriage could become in just the blink of an eye.

  Unfortunately, he knew.

  He knew what bad relationships looked like. He’d had enough of his own, and most of those were his fault. But there was next-level bad. An awfulness beyond what he’d seen in his own romances.

  The dog wagged some more, either a sign of understanding or an expectation of treats. Tony kept scratching, grateful for the pretense of being understood. Fireball kept watching him, a look of intense expectation in his dark little eyes.

  Tony couldn’t disappoint him.

  “Look, your mom and I are just friends,” he explained, seating himself on the curb to scratch the dog’s silky ears. “There’s a reason for that.”

  What was the reason again? Fireball did another head tilt, as curious as Tony was.

  “She deserves more,” Tony insisted. “You haven’t heard what all these women have been saying about me. Fear of commitment. Insensitive. Fake. I’ve invented allergies and weird holiday hang-ups to get out of relationships. Doesn’t sound like a guy who’s such a hot catch, right?”

  The dog licked Tony’s hand and whined, then licked him again. Tony felt a fierce rush of fondness and wished he had a dog treat. He settled for rubbing the spot under Fireball’s collar that made the pup wag harder.

  “The thing is, they’re not saying anything I didn’t already know,” he continued, feeling only a little ridiculous confessing his secrets to a dog in a dark parking lot.

  But he kept going, not sure why he needed to get this off his chest. “It’s not like this has been some ego-crushing revelation of all the shitty things I’ve been clueless about for years. I know this stuff, right?”