Firefighter Christmas Complete Series Box Set (A Firefighter Holiday Romance Love Story)

by Nella Tyler

  He began rocking his hips, rubbing the heat and hardness of his cock against my thigh even as he worked me with his fingers. Two fingers slid inside of me while Patrick’s thumb swirled around my clit, and I cried out, arching up off of the bed, my hands tightening on his back. “You’re so tight,” Patrick murmured, panting. “It’s going to feel so good to be inside you Mack…fuck.” His fingers wriggled and twisted inside of me, brushing against my inner walls, and all I could do was gasp and shiver and moan, my body moving with a will of its own.

  Patrick kissed me again hungrily, and I felt the tension building between my hips, my muscles tightening more and more as he worked me with his hand. I moaned out, whimpering any moment his thumb left my clit even for a second, lost in the feelings coursing through my body.

  In minutes—heartbeats, it seemed—I felt the tension between my hips becoming almost unbearably tight. I was on the edge of coming, so close that I could almost taste it. Patrick’s fingertips swirled around inside of me, finding my g-spot, and I almost screamed with pleasure as the tension broke. Wave after wave of pleasure washed through me, making it impossible to think. Patrick kissed me again and again, swallowing down my moans, and his fingers kept working inside of me, his thumb against my clit, as I lost myself in the sensations flowing through my body.

  He didn’t stop until I began to slow down, shivering and panting for breath. “God that was good,” I said, opening my eyes and looking up to see Patrick watching me intently. His fingers slid out of me slowly, and he gave my clit a quick brush with his thumb as he settled on the bed next to me.

  “I’ll give you a few minutes,” he said with a satisfied little grin. “It’s been a while since I’ve done that to someone.”

  “That’s a shame,” I said, giggling almost uncontrollably. “You’re so good at it—that talent’s been going to waste.”

  “I’ve been saving it all for you,” Patrick suggested. I rolled my eyes, turning over onto my side. Patrick’s cock was hard as a rock, flushed almost purple.

  “Let me at least…” I licked my lips and reached out, feeling a little uncertain. I wrapped my hand around the base of his cock and started stroking slowly up and down. “Is this okay?”

  “More than okay,” Patrick said, groaning. “Just—fuck—just keep it slow. Don’t speed up. I don’t want to come in your hand.” I chuckled, rubbing the tip of his erection with my thumb as I stroked him. He felt so good, so hot and heavy in my hand. I wasn’t scared of how big he was. I wanted to feel him inside of me maybe as much as he wanted to feel me wrapped around him.

  Patrick’s hands started wandering over me, teasing and caressing, and I struggled to focus on rubbing his cock; it twitched against my palm, the tip going slick with precum, and I started to really get into it. I loved the way his hips moved, I loved the ripple of his muscles as he became more and more turned on. I felt my hand starting to go slick from the precum flowing freely from the tip of Patrick’s cock. He pushed my hand away all at once—and pushed me onto my back at the same time. “Are you ready for me?” I licked my lips and nodded.

  Patrick covered my body with his own once again, his hips shifting against mine. He kissed me hungrily, his legs slipping down between mine, and I felt the heat and hardness of his cock rubbing against my soaking wet pussy, barely sliding in. “We’re going slow, right?” Patrick nodded, pulling himself up and balancing on one elbow above me. He reached down between our bodies and guided the tip of his cock against me, rubbing my clit for a moment before he pressed against my inner labia.

  I moaned out as Patrick thrust into me slowly, filling me up inch by inch. It had been forever—at least it felt like that—since I’d been with someone, and I moaned again as Patrick pushed past the resistance of my body. He felt so thick, so hot inside of me. I arched up off of the bed, pushing my hips down to meet Patrick’s, taking him deeper and deeper by the moment.

  We started moving together, touching each other everywhere, kissing everywhere our mouths could reach, and I lost myself again in the feeling of Patrick’s body against mine, his cock inside of me, rubbing along my inner walls. The tip of his cock brushed against my g-spot, and I cried out in pleasure, my thighs tightening around him, my whole body shuddering. Every time his cock brushed against my pleasure center I came closer and closer to climax, my body crackling with the sensations rushing through my veins. I clung to Patrick as if I was clinging to life itself, moving in time to his thrusts, my body completely in charge.

  All at once, the last of my control dissolved and I came again, moaning out as Patrick moved inside me. Waves of pleasure washed through me, blotting out any thought, and all I could do was move with him, my muscles flexing and relaxing around the thick, hard cock buried deep inside me in little spasms. My climax intensified as Patrick sped up, thrusting harder and faster, rubbing against my g-spot again and again. I barely even noticed as he shuddered against me; I barely even heard the long, low groan of pleasure that left him. I felt his cock twitching inside of me and then the sticky-slick gush as he came. We both kept moving until we couldn’t anymore, and I smiled to myself as Patrick collapsed against me, panting as hard as I was, soaked with sweat. “We need…to do that again soon,” I told him. “As soon as we catch our breath.”

  “I agree,” Patrick said. He pressed a lazy kiss to my cheek. “Give me ten minutes.”

  Chapter Six

  Patrick

  I gulped down coffee as I pulled away from my parents’ house, glancing back into the back seat to see Landon. I was exhausted—I hadn’t stayed up until two in the morning with someone else for years—but it was worth it, as far as I was concerned. I smiled to myself. “Did you have a good time with Granny and Pop?”

  “Yeah!” Landon looked up from his toy and smiled. “Granny made ice cream for dessert. It had chocolate in it—she let me watch!”

  “Ice cream,” I said, nodding as I maneuvered into traffic carefully. “That does sound like a good night.”

  “Did you have a good night Dad?” Landon watched me from the back seat. “You were with Mack, right?”

  “I was,” I told him. I smiled again to myself, probably looking like an idiot—but I didn’t care.

  “What did you do?” That was a trickier question; obviously I couldn’t tell my five-year-old son about mauling the mattress with his gorgeous physical therapist.

  “We had dinner together and saw a movie.”

  “You should take her to Fun Town,” Landon suggested. “That’s where I would take someone if I wanted to impress her.” I chuckled.

  “Maybe I will,” I told him. “Fun Town is probably a better idea if you come with us on a date sometime.”

  “Are you going to take me with you?” Landon sounded—and looked—surprised at the idea.

  “If I see her a few more times I will,” I told him. “Would you want to see Mack outside of your sessions?”

  “She’s nice,” Landon said with a shrug. “I like her.”

  “I’m glad to hear it buddy,” I told him, thinking about how good it had felt to be with Mackenzie, how much better it had felt to doze off with my arms wrapped around her than it had ever felt to lie in bed alone. I had a vivid flash in my head of pinning Mackenzie down on the bed, of kissing her as I slid inside of her the second time, feeling her muscles tighten around me, feeling her wet heat wrap around my hard cock. Don’t think about that with your son in the car, I reminded myself. “It’s still the early days though,” I said out loud. “I don’t know if she wants to see me again.”

  “Did you make her mad?” I chuckled as quietly as I could.

  “Nope, I managed not to do that.”

  “Then why wouldn’t she want to see you again?” I considered the question. From Landon’s perspective, the boy had a point. Why wouldn’t Mackenzie want to see me again? We’d had a good time, and the sex had been incredible. When I’d left her place in the early hours of the morning to catch some sleep before I went to pick Landon up to take him to sc
hool, we’d both agreed that we wanted to get together again. But she’d told me more than once that she felt weird about the ethics of dating a patient’s parent and I had to respect that.

  “I’m just saying, if Mack doesn’t want to go with us to Fun Town, you and me will go by ourselves. Maybe next month.”

  “Sure,” Landon said, shrugging again. “But if she doesn’t want to go with us to Fun Town, I don’t think I’d want to go with her anyway.” I turned into the gate at Landon’s school and laughed a little bit.

  “That’s an excellent point.” I settled in to wait for my turn at the drop-off line, looking in front of me at the cars inching forward. “Let’s see how it pans out, okay?” I thought about the wager that Landon had made: that I couldn’t find him a new mom before the New Year. I’d probably been an idiot to accept it, since even if things went absolutely great with me and Mackenzie it wasn’t like I could marry her after knowing her for less than a month, but I thought—I hoped—that maybe we’d be on the track to at least having a good relationship by the New Year.

  We went through the usual drop-off ritual, with me telling Landon to be good, asking him if he had his homework ready to turn in, if there was anything that he needed me to sign for his teacher. Landon informed me that he was fine—he had his homework done, with help from his grandparents, that he was ready for the school day. Finally I pulled up into the drop-off zone and put the car in park briefly; I had gotten a placard for the car when Landon broke his leg, so the people in line behind me, waiting to drop their kids off, wouldn’t start bitching. I helped Landon out of the car and gave him the cane he was allowed to use as he needed, made sure he had his lunch and his backpack, and then rushed back into the driver’s seat to get out of the way.

  As soon as I was off school property, my thoughts turned back to Mackenzie. I’d worried that the flowers I’d gotten her were stupid, that it was something guys just didn’t do anymore and would make me look like an old man and a creep. But she’d loved them. In fact, she’d walked me to my car at the end of the night to get them out of the passenger seat where they’d been left behind in our rush to get to her bedroom.

  I remembered what she’d said about liking peonies even better—and I reminded myself that I should track some down before our next date. Whenever that is… I shook off the possibility that she wouldn’t want to see me again, playing back every moment my tired brain could remember: how she’d loved the food at Girl and The Goat, the way she’d responded when I’d started kissing her. I was almost glad that it had taken more than one date for me to get into bed with her; it made it that much better.

  I had hooked up a few times with women after Joanne died. I was never proud of it, and I tried to keep it to the bare minimum, but it had been years since I’d decided to focus completely on Landon and making sure that my son had what he needed. If I was honest with myself I was more than a little afraid when we went up to her apartment together that I wouldn’t be as good in bed as Mackenzie would want—or as good as she deserved. I grinned to myself as I maneuvered through busy Chicago traffic, making my way back towards the office. It had been like being in a diet for years and then going out to an enormous steak dinner; I was glad we’d gone slow the first time.

  A shudder went down my spine at the memory of Mack’s hand wrapping around my cock, the way she’d started stroking me slowly, her thumb against the tip. If I wasn’t careful, I was going to get hard again—and there was no Mack in the car with me to take care of the problem. Cool off, man. Think of something else. I pushed the thought of more sex with her out of my mind and focused on the date itself; the conversation we’d had over dinner, the way she was so beautiful when she was comfortable and at ease.

  Mack was exactly the kind of woman you’d think was putting you off because other guys hit her on constantly. Even in her scrubs—the most shapeless, sexless clothes on the planet—she looked fit and comfortable in her own skin, and when she dressed up she looked like an absolute angel. I shook my head, smiling to myself. She looked good, she smelled good, she was smart and funny; she was exactly what I would have told anyone I wanted in a woman. Part of my brain thought that Mack might even be more beautiful than Joanne had been—but I couldn’t let myself think that. I loved Joanne, and I would miss her for the rest of my life.

  But I couldn’t let myself compare Joanne and Mackenzie. They were two different women, who had appeared in my life at two very different points. I had to keep them separate in my mind. I couldn’t even give myself the freedom to think that one might be better at something than the other; it would feel too much like cheating one of them. Mackenzie was who she was: beautiful, smart, good at her job, passionate about helping kids get back into shape after injuries and helping them to cope with disabilities. She was someone I thought I could come to care about a lot, if things worked out between us. She was someone I hoped Landon could get along with outside of the physical therapy sessions.

  I finally made it to the office and pulled into the parking garage, finishing off my coffee as I navigated the floors up to my assigned space. It was going to be one hell of a long day at work, and I was actually a little glad that I didn’t have to take Landon to physical therapy afterwards; I wanted to see Mack again, but I knew I was going to be so exhausted at the end of the day that I wouldn’t even be able to enjoy it if I did. It was good that I would be able to go home and have a quiet night in with my son, cook some dinner and get to bed early.

  If you’ve got to drag your ass into work after only three or four hours of sleep, at least it was worth it, I thought to myself, pulling into my parking spot. I shut the car off and checked to make sure that I had all the things I needed for the day, just like I’d checked with Landon before I’d let him out of the car. I had my phone, my keys, my wallet, and my laptop bag, with the reports that I had been working on and a few other odds and ends I found myself using throughout the day. I’d be exhausted by the time five or six rolled around, but I’d get through it. I smiled again, thinking of how good it had been just to be with Mackenzie, and how much better it had been to be in bed with her. I decided that as soon as I got up to my office and had everything settled for the morning, I’d take the proactive step and call her to schedule our next date. It probably wouldn’t be to Fun Town, but I thought I could come up with something good. Remember the flowers, too, I thought to myself as I got out of my car.

  Chapter Seven

  Mackenzie

  “Hurry up, Blair! Let’s get her to the door. One…two…three!” I watched Alice and Blair lifting Amie up from the floor carefully as I hurried to my desk where my phone waited. My heart pounded in my chest and my blood roared in my ears, but at least on the outside I was mostly able to look like I was keeping calm. I could hear the wail of sirens outside as an ambulance approached the building; at least the police were quick about getting to the scene.

  I threw myself into my chair and shook my head, anger boiling up inside of me at what had happened no more than minutes after Landon and Patrick had left the office. I’d finished up with Landon’s session, where he’d done really well—and had asked whether I’d ever been to Fun Town—and gone back to my desk. I’d told Patrick that I was looking forward to our date, which we’d agreed to go on that same night. He had invited me to a play, and I’d been so excited to go on another date with him.

  But then one of the parents had started to get tetchy with Amie. It happened pretty often; at first I hadn’t even thought about it. I’d figured that the parent would shout a little bit, and then maybe storm off—that in the worst-case scenario, we’d lose the patient and the little girl who’d come in with her dad would have to find another physical therapy office. It wouldn’t be the first time some blow-hard of a parent had decided that they knew better than a trained physical therapist what their kid needed.

  But all at once, or at least it had seemed that way to me, things had escalated. I’d heard Amie trying to calm the parent down, and the man starting to curse her
out, calling her every name under the sun. Amie had called out for someone to call the police to deal with the guy, and then things had gotten really and truly screwed up.

  By the time some of the burlier physical therapists had managed to restrain the guy, he’d managed to beat Amie down to the floor, breaking a couple of her bones and possibly giving her a concussion. She wasn’t so badly injured that we needed paramedics—after all, most of the staff at the office had had medical training—but the cops were on their way, and it would be a long recovery for her. I was left in charge of dealing with the police while the two assistants struggled to keep the angry parent restrained and some of the other women in the office were taking Amie to the closest hospital. Our office manager had left for the day, so I was the natural choice of the few of us who were left.

  “We’re going to have to ask you to stay a little longer,” one of the other PTs, Charlotte, was telling a shaken mother and her daughter. “Just until the police are done. I’m so sorry this happened during your session with us.”

  “It’s not your fault,” the woman replied. “I hope the cops deal with that guy, though I’m sorry for his daughter.”

  “I think,” I said, pitching my voice just loud enough to be heard over the confusion of patients and their parents, and the few office assistants and PTs in the office, “that maybe it’s snack time for everyone who needs to hang out for a little while.” The kids would be occupied, and the parents could relax a little bit and wait for the police to ask them about what they’d seen.

  In the meantime, I already knew that I’d be the one who would have to fill out all of the incident paperwork. The police had their reports to fill out, and I had my own. I thought about Amie—about how much pain she was probably in, about how afraid she probably was—and I knew I couldn’t shirk the responsibility of making sure that the asshole parent who had assaulted her was arrested. That poor little girl… one of the other therapists was sitting with the asshole’s daughter, talking to her calmly, offering her a packet of granola to snack on. If the man had a wife, I’d probably need to call her and have her pick her daughter up; if not, I’d have to coordinate with the police to get her somewhere safe. All of the details began to pile up in my mind and I shook my head. I was going to have to cancel on Patrick, as much as I hated to do it and as much as I could really use the relaxation of a play.