Daniel shook his head. “Why would he be? I mean, you’re probably old enough to be his mother.”
Lolo spun on Daniel. “You need to take that back, right now. I’d have to have given birth when I was a small child myself. And what’s wrong with a younger man dating an older woman?”
“Well…” Daniel rubbed the back of his neck while he looked around for an escape. “It’s just that older women aren’t as attractive to younger men.”
“Is that so?” She stepped up to him, pressing her breasts against his chest. “Are you saying you don’t find me attractive?”
“Now, don’t go puttin’ words in my mouth. I told you that you have sexy legs. I don’t say that about just anyone. Besides, you shouldn’t go fishin’ for compliments. You might not be happy with what you catch.”
“No?” With a catlike smile stretching her lips, Lola walked a finger up his chest and over his chin. “What if I like what I catch?”
He grabbed her finger in his big hand. “You like Grayson. Leave me out of this.”
“A woman has a right to change her mind.” She pulled the hand he held toward her and pressed it to her chest, running his knuckles across the swells of her breasts. “And just so you know, they’re real.” She winked up at him and pressed her hips against his.
Damned if his cock didn’t rise to the occasion.
Flannigan stared into her gaze, fighting to keep his hands from clasping her thighs and wrapping her sexy legs around his waist. Finally, he settled on grabbing her arms and pushing her to arm’s length, away from his growing erection. “Woman, you’re really playing with fire, here.”
“Oh, I’m not afraid of getting burned.” Lola batted her eyes, swept her tongue across her full, luscious lips and tilted her chin in challenge. “Are you?”
Something inside Flannigan snapped. “Fuck no,” he muttered. With his hands still on her arms, he slammed her to his chest and crushed his mouth over hers.
At first blaming it on her taunting, his kiss was angry, vengeful, and harsh. But the sweet, minty taste of her mouth and that damned scent of honey-suckle wrapped around his senses. He skimmed the seam of her lips with his tongue.
When she gasped and dropped her shoes, he thrust through, caressing her mouth with thrusts, imitating the age-old motion of mating. His dick responded, growing so hard he could barely breathe.
At first rigid, Lola’s body was like a brick against his, her hands pressed flat against his chest. As the kiss continued, she softened, and then leaned into him. She raised her hands, entwining them around his neck to pull him closer.
What had started as a lesson in his ability to control the situation, ended in Flannigan getting schooled by the teacher.
Holy hot tamales! Lola’s body turned traitor. She’d tempted the big firefighter out of a need to prove he was wrong, and that older women could be every bit as sexy as younger women. What she hadn’t expected was for him to go along with it. And she certainly hadn’t expected to like it.
Once the kiss began, she had every intention of being the one to break it off and laugh in his face. But, holy guacamole! Now, she wasn’t sure she needed to breathe as much as she needed Flannigan’s lips on hers. In fact, she couldn’t seem to get close enough to the man. Too many inches were between them, though their bodies were pressed together. No, inches weren’t the problem.
Clothes were.
She slid her calf around the back of his and upward until her crotch straddled his thick thigh. Her pussy ached for more, and rubbing against him only increased the heat.
After what felt like a lifetime and yet must have been only a moment, Flannigan lifted his head and stared down into her gaze. His big, rough hands had migrated along her back. His eyes narrowed at the same time his fingers tightened around her ass.
Lola’s head spun, and her lips throbbed. Her breathing was labored as if she’d been running a marathon. Through the fog of her thoughts, one emerged, Burn, baby burn.
She swallowed hard and went for bravado. “What’s the matter, big guy? Never kiss a real woman, before?”
“I’ve kissed plenty of women,” he said. “Some more experienced than you.”
“Yeah, did they make you lose control?” she asked, liking the feel of his hands on her buttocks—warm, hard, and strong.
“I’m always in control,” he said, his brows dipping.
“Uh-huh.” She nodded toward the house across the street. “Do you always prefer an audience when you kiss a woman?”
Flannigan shot a glance over his shoulder at Lola’s neighbor.
Mr. Harden was the nosey old man she loved to flash when he spied on her through his binoculars.
Flannigan glared at the man. “What the hell?”
“Mr. Harden’s harmless. He just likes to watch.” She tilted her head, a smile twitching at the edges of her lips. “Care to come in for a glass of iced tea? It’s the least I can offer after you rescued me from the rooftop.”
He hesitated, and then shook his head. “I should get going.” He stepped back.
Lola resisted the urge to sink her fingernails into his arms. Instead, she stepped back as well and shrugged. “Suit yourself.” She turned and glanced over her shoulder. “Is Chance on duty tomorrow?” She knew perfectly well he was, along with Flannigan.
The firefighter frowned. “I meant what I said. You have to stop calling 911 unless it’s a real emergency.”
Lola stooped to grab the shoes she’d dropped, giving Flannigan and Mr. Harden an extra-sexy glimpse of her bottom beneath the hem of the shorts. Something very much like a growl sounded behind her.
“Damn it, woman.” Flannigan said. “Grayson isn’t into you.”
She turned and raised an eyebrow. “And you are?”
“I didn’t say that,” he muttered.
“Good, because I don’t think you’re man enough for a woman like me.”
His chest swelled, and his eyes flared. “And what the hell is that supposed to mean?”
Lola raked her gaze over him from the top of his head to his boots, taking in the tattoos, the dirty jeans, and ripped T-shirt stretching impossibly tight over his broad chest.
Her heart thumped hard against her chest, but she forced calm to her face. “Seems like a man with tattoos is covering up something, or compensating for what he lacks in other areas.” She shot a meaningful glance at his package.
She had no doubt the man was equipped, based on the impressive bulge beneath the denim. And no doubt he was proud of it, like most men.
When she raised her face to his, she swallowed a gasp.
Anger blazed from his eyes. “My tattoos have nothing to do with compensation.”
She shrugged. “So you say.” Lola turned and walked away, placing one foot in front of the other for maximum hip action. “Don’t let me keep you. I’m sure you have younger women to impress with your…manliness. I’ll take my chances on a real man.”
A more sinister growl sounded behind her, and the next thing Lola knew, a heavy hand yanked her around, and she was flung over a broad shoulder. Strong arms clamped like vices around her thighs.
“Hey! Put me down!” Lola braced her hands on his back and pushed against rock-hard muscles.
Flannigan didn’t pause or slow as he marched toward her front door.
With her gut being jounced on his shoulder, Lola could barely catch her breath. “Let…me…down…you Neanderthal.” She pounded his back.
The beast came to an abrupt halt.
Lola pushed herself farther upright and caught a glimpse of Mr. Harden staring at the couple, wide-eyed.
“Let me down, or I’ll scream,” Lola said. “Mr. Harden is watching us. He’ll call the sheriff and have your ass arrested for molesting me.”
“You wish.” He shoved open her door, turned and waved at Mr. Harden. “She didn’t want to walk barefoot,” he called out loud enough for the older man to hear. Then he slapped a heavy palm against Lola’s bottom, hard enough to make her jump.
>
She should have been angry, but the smack had an entirely different effect.
Desire coiled in the pit of her belly, and her thighs burned where his hand and arm held her tightly.
Having a strong, sexy firefighter throw her over his shoulder and carry her away to make mad, passionate love was every woman’s dream.
But Flannigan was the wrong firefighter.
He stepped inside and shoved the door closed behind him with his boot. “Apologize,” he demanded.
“For what?” Lola wiggled. “You’ve made your point. You’re a caveman. You have muscles.” And a great ass.
“Is Chance’s ass why you’re so hot on him?”
Lola bit her lip. “Did I say ass out loud?”
“Yeah, and you still haven’t apologized.”
“For what? Calling it as I see it?”
His grip tightened. “For bad-mouthing my tattoos.”
“Put me down, and I might just give you that apology.” Now that Lola had noticed his firm butt in the faded jeans, she couldn’t stop staring. Just when she considered lowering her hands down his back to touch him there, he hiked her up in the air and dropped her body to cradle her in his arms.
The movement placed her face so close to his, she only had to turn her head a little and her lips would be within kissing distance.
“The apology?” he prompted.
Lola raised her gaze from his lips and stared into his eyes, her pulse hammering, pushing hot blood through her veins. “What?”
“Apology? Tattoos?”
Flannigan didn’t even break a sweat holding her above the ground. Lola shifted her gaze from his eyes to the view of his chest at the V of his neckline. “Why so touchy about the tats?”
“They hold special meaning.”
She huffed. “Of your old girlfriends?”
“No, of the men I fought with in the Army. The men who came back in body bags.”
Lola looked up, guilt twitching in her gut. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”
He nodded and dropped her feet to the ground, retaining his grip around her waist. “Now, you do.”
Lola traced the little bit of tattoo she could see on his chest and neck. “Those men must have meant a lot.”
“They were my brothers.” He caught her finger and lifted it to his lips. “Promise me you won’t call 911 unless you have an emergency.” Holding her gaze, he pressed his mouth to the tip of her finger.
Her finger tingled where his lips touched it. A spark flowed from that point all the way south, making her pussy clench. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, this?” He kissed her finger again. “It’s best that I focus on your hand.”
“As opposed to focusing on what?”
“What I really want to do.”
Her heart fluttered then pounded against her ribs. She curled her fingers and dragged her nails down the front of his chest. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll ravage your body?”
He shook his head. “No, I’m afraid I’ll do this.” Flannigan scooped her up by the backs of her thighs, wrapped her legs around his waist, and turned to press her against the wall. His mouth crashed down on hers, stealing away her breath.
Who needs to breathe, anyway? Lola wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him, her tongue meeting his in a duel for supremacy. She locked her legs around his waist and sank lower, rubbing her pussy across the bulge of his cock. She wanted much more than a kiss.
While he kissed her, she grabbed a handful of his T-shirt and dragged it up his body.
Flannigan lifted his head, fisted his shirt in his hand and ripped it over his head, flinging it to the floor.
He worked at the tiny buttons of her shirt.
Frustrated, Lola pushed aside his hands and freed the last button.
The firefighter pushed her shirt off her shoulders then nipped and kissed her collarbone, her chin, and the sensitive area below her ear.
Lola leaned her head to the side, giving him better access, while shrugging out of the shirt. Once free, she inhaled, her chest rising.
Flannigan accepted the invitation and rolled her nipple between his teeth, through the lacy cup of her bra.
A moan rose up in Lola’s throat, and she tightened her legs around him.
He pushed one of her bra straps over her shoulder and followed it downward, leaving a trail of kisses and nips.
“What are you doing to me?” she asked, every inch of her body on fire.
A low, warm chuckle rumbled in his chest. “If you don’t know by now, you’re not the experienced woman you claim to be.”
“I’ll show you experience,” she said, making room between her hips and his. She reached for the button of his jeans and thumbed it open. Then she lowered the zipper halfway and slipped her hand beneath the denim. Her lips twitching, she looked up into his face. “Commando?”
He drew in a sharp breath, leaned closer, and whispered against her neck. “The only way to go.” The firefighter tongued the pulse beating at the base of her throat.
“Mmm, yes,” she said as she curled her hand around his cock and pushed lower to cup his balls.
He placed his hand over hers. “Don’t tease.”
She rolled his sac in her fingers, her gaze seeking his dark eyes. “Does this feel like I’m teasing?”
“Some women like to take a man to the edge and leave him hanging.”
“Sweetheart, I’m not one of them.” She squeezed gently, and then slid her hand up his cock. “I don’t start anything I’m not willing to finish.”
“Good.” He gripped her ass and carried her to the kitchen, swept the salt and pepper shakers off the table with his arm, and set her bottom on the edge. Then he stood back, the motion forcing her to remove her hand from his jeans.
Lola frowned. “Are you teasing me now?”
“No, but I want you to know an experienced woman has nothing on me.” His brows descended. “Say no now, and I’ll walk away.”
“Or?” She parted her legs and rubbed her fingers over her pulsing pussy. God, she was hot. The intensity of Flannigan’s expression made her want to strip off the rest of her clothes and jump on his dick.
Sweet Jesus, she’d gone far too long without sex. She lifted her chin and waited for his next move.
“Or, I’m going to blow your mind.”
“Blow, baby, blow.” Lola arched her back and released the catch on her bra. For a moment, she wondered if the slight sag to her breasts would be a turn off to a younger man who’d probably seen more women with perky, young breasts than Lola had seen naked men.
If she hadn’t been studying his face, she might have missed the slight flare of his eyes as the bra fell away.
By the expression on his face, the man wasn’t turned off. In fact, his zipper had slipped lower and his cock sprang free, jutting straight out—hard, thick and ready.
Flannigan bent over her and pressed his lips to her nipple. He sucked it into his mouth and rolled the tip on his tongue. Then he nipped.
“Ouch!” She laced her fingers into his hair and pulled. “Those are attached.”
He moved to the other and licked the nipple into a tight bead. “I noticed.” Then he drew it into his mouth and sucked hard.
Lola moaned and clutched the back of his head, urging him to take as much of her breast into his mouth as he could.
He laved, sucked, and nibbled until she squirmed on the tabletop.
Without raising his head, he urged her to lie back on the table. As he blazed a trail over her ribs and down her abdomen with his mouth, his hands worked the button loose on her shorts and slipped the garment down her legs. The shorts fell to the floor, leaving only a lace thong covering her sex.
The firefighter slipped his fingers beneath the elastic band, and he cupped her sex, dipping a finger into her pussy.
Lola moaned and spread her legs.
His hand was hot against her skin. His finger felt so good. But, it wasn’t enough. Lola squirmed again, laid a hand over h
is, and pressed him closer, encouraging him to fit more of his fingers inside her.
He obliged, swirling around the juices.
Lola moaned.
“Like that?” he asked.
“I might,” she said, her tone tight, her breathing ragged.
Then he edged her panties lower, parted her folds, and blew a warm stream of air over her clit.
Lola gasped and came up on her elbows. “For Pete’s sake, don’t tease me!”
“Do you want more?” he asked, his thumbs looping through the straps of her thong.
“Yes!” she managed to say on a rush of air.
He ripped off the panties, wedged himself between her thighs, and dropped to his knees.
Oh, sweet heaven, the man did know what a woman wanted.
Lola lay back on the table, grasping the edge, prepared to experience the joys of sex.
Flannigan parted her folds and stroked one long, work-roughened finger across her clit and down to her damp entrance.
Tossing her head, Lola gasped, “Oh, my.”
He chuckled. “Hit the spot?”
“Oh, yesss!”
The rumble of his laughter was offset a second later by a cool stream of air blown over her heated center.
Lola’s breath hitched and held in anticipation of what might come next. She wasn’t disappointed when he flicked her clit with his tongue.
Lola arched her back off the table and clung to his hair. “Sweet tea and grits, that’s the spot. Oh, yes! That’s the spot.”
“Thought it might be,” he said, his breath warm against her pussy.
With that wonderful tongue, he teased, tapped, and twirled the sensitive nubbin until tingling started at her center and shot out to the farthest reaches of her extremities, sizzling a path of nerves to the point Lola tipped over the edge, her body tense and throbbing with her orgasm.
He didn’t let up his ministrations until she lay back against the table, as limp as a dishrag, too spent to move a muscle but not ready for the encounter to be over.
A chuckle rose with Flannigan as he straightened between her legs, his cock jutting forward, hard and thick.
Though movement was a struggle, Lola managed to push herself up onto her elbows. She refused to be outdone by the sassy firefighter. He might have proved he was capable of making her squeal, but she was up to the challenge. “I call your bet and raise the ante.” She slipped off the edge of the table, thinking she’d never be able to look at it as purely a place for eating food again. Eating, yes. Food, not so much.
Blue Collar (A Boys Behaving Badly Anthology Book 2) Page 7