High Octane Heroes

by Delilah Devlin (ed)

  Mickey headed toward his Mustang as the EMTs loaded the boy onto a stretcher. Before he got halfway to his car, footfalls sounded behind him. “Wait!”

  He turned and Jack’s mother threw herself into his arms. She hugged him tight. “My husband and I will never be able to thank you enough.” After she released him, she kissed his cheek, and then pressed something into his palm. “Come to our place whenever you want. Where you’re concerned, everything on the menu remains on the house.”

  Mickey glanced at the business card advertising an organic foods restaurant owned by Your hosts, Andy and Elena and suppressed a groan. These people were probably vegetarians at best and vegans at worst. He liked big, juicy cheeseburgers heaped with crisp bacon, or a Texas-sized steak piled high with fried onions and mushrooms. To maintain his muscle mass after daily workouts at the gym, he needed large quantities of protein.

  He smiled at the woman. “Thanks.”

  They parted, and Mickey glanced at the time on his dashboard as he slid behind the wheel of his car. “Shit.” He’d missed his after-work drinks date with Madelaine. Again.

  He checked his cell. No messages. His spoiled, over-sexed girlfriend had warned if he was late one more time, she’d be done with him. With her looks, men offered to crawl through glass to sleep with her. She’d made it clear Mickey could be easily replaced. One stiff cock was as good as another, as far as she was concerned. It would take her all of about five minutes to finish sulking and find a new guy. Maybe two, in ten.

  He called her anyway, but Madelaine refused to answer. Mickey swore. He’d miss the luscious mouth that drank him in, slow and steady, like velvet whiskey. And her ass. He’d surely miss that.

  His cell phone went dark.

  Without a shadow of doubt, Mickey knew he’d just been dumped.

  Mickey hadn’t intended to stop by Andy and Elena’s Organics Fantastic restaurant for dinner, but Elena had called the stationhouse three times since the incident on the roadside, and wouldn’t take no for an answer. When he assured her she owed him nothing, she replied, “My chef will make something extra special for you,” and hung up.

  The eatery was located on the outskirts of Appleton, less than six miles from the fire station. He decided to take his bean sprouts on sandpaper bread, and drink his broccoli-and-beets soy shake like a man, and be finished with his obligation to this family.

  Mickey expected to find minimal clientele seated at unvarnished bamboo tables and chairs inside a stark room bearing grass floor mats when he stepped through the doors of Organics Fantastic. Instead, glowing candles warmed the rooms of a restored farmhouse, filled with well-dressed people seated in plush chairs at polished mahogany tables. Original artwork hung on freshly painted walls. Expensive wool carpeting cushioned his feet as he made his way to the pretty blonde hostess, who smiled in welcome.

  The appreciative glint in her eyes made him grateful he’d worn business casual for dinner instead of his usual T-shirt and jeans. When he introduced himself, the hostess replied, “We’ve been expecting you, Mr. Kent. I’ll tell the owners you’re here.” She led him to a reserved table in a private corner of the main room.

  Elena hurried to Mickey’s side moments later, hugged him and introduced her husband, Andy. The men shook hands and chatted like old friends before Andy disappeared into the bar. He returned with a set of glasses and a bottle of the finest scotch whiskey, poured Mickey a drink and left the bottle on the table.

  Mickey took a grateful swallow and looked around the impressive room. A tall, handsome waitress brought him a menu. When he opened the cover, he couldn’t have been more surprised by its contents. Grass-fed beef. Free-range chicken. Coldwater shrimp and lobster. There wasn’t a glass of soy milk or a bean sprout to be found.

  He salivated and licked his lips before taking another mouthful of scotch. At the smooth, heavenly taste, he closed his eyes and sighed.

  “Glad to see you’re enjoying our little part of the world,” said a soothing feminine voice, adding a layer of comfort to his reverie.

  Mickey nodded and opened his eyes. The poised young woman standing before him lit his senses like a lightning strike.

  She might have been twenty-two to his twenty-nine, but not much more. Everything about her looked glossy, supple and smooth. From the frank, dark eyes and shining black hair that touched her shoulders in waves, to the ample curves of her breasts and hips, this woman looked the epitome of health and vitality. He blinked, stunned by her heady effect on his system.

  She smiled, and clean white teeth behind lush red lips rushed blood to his groin. Visions of her mouth on him, everywhere and all at once, filled his head. Her beauty warmed him from the inside out, like the spirits he’d consumed. The sight of her intoxicated him and almost made him drop the glass he held.

  “I’m Amanda. I wanted to meet the man who saved Jack’s life before I cooked for you.”

  Mickey reached for an empty glass and poured her a drink, steadying his hand over the lip. “Join me.” He set the tumbler on the table and pulled a chair closer to his. Then he stood and held the chair out for her while she took the seat beside him.

  He wanted to press his thigh against hers through her gauzy red skirt, but resisted the primal urges she stirred in him. Good manners demanded restraint, though he wanted nothing more than to kiss her senseless, tear the clothes from her voluptuous figure and make love to her on the tabletop in full view of the others. The natural heat from her body wafted over his, merging the pheromones raging between them.

  He stared into her eyes and saw she felt it too. Instant chemistry. Connection. An attraction so rare it turned kinetic on contact.

  Some called it love at first sight.

  Amanda. Even her name sounded beautiful.

  “I never met a hero before. That’s what you are, you know.” Her dark lashes lowered and lifted, and she smiled at him with admiration.

  Mickey shook his head. “I hate to disappoint you, but I only did what I’m trained to do.”

  She made sounds of disagreement. “Elena told me at least a hundred and fifty cars passed her on the highway and ignored her pleas for help. Of all those people, don’t you think one might have been medically trained? Or at least cared enough to respond to her cries? No. You stopped. Only you.” Amanda touched her glass of scotch to his in a silent toast.

  Mickey took her hand in his and she let him hold it. He wanted to learn everything he could about Amanda and this place. Organics Fantastic, indeed. “Nothing here is what I expected.” He squeezed her fingers before letting go.

  She smiled and threw her head back with a knowing laugh, understanding his inference. “Organic means untouched by artificiality. Consumed in its natural state. We eat only healthy foods unspoiled by chemicals, preservatives, hormones, steroids and genetically modified seeds or cells. Pure.”

  Pure. Mickey gazed at the stunning woman by his side and knew that was true for her too. The satin white skin of her face and arms looked smooth as cream. Her skin looked supple and welcoming to the touch. He longed to run his hands along her generous thighs, imagining sleek roads leading to heaven between her legs.

  His cock hardened beneath the table so quickly and completely it took his breath. This woman had turned him wild. Blood rushed to his face and phallus in equal measure. He poured another drink as a distraction, before he lost control and embarrassed them both.

  Why had he ever thought women like Madelaine, vain and weightless, with aesthetically enhanced breasts and protruding collarbones, looked sexy? Why had he accepted her endless diets and liquid fasts as a normal way to live? Was it because his generous muscle mass seemed larger and stronger compared to her leanness? Or had he been brainwashed to believe gaunt women were more desirable?

  His rounded muscles and tight angles blended with the curves and planes of Amanda’s lush body like yin and yang. He met her eyes again and read passion and longing in their depths. This was a woman of consequence. Of substance.

  He sense
d she wouldn’t refuse him if he gave himself to her honestly and completely. A woman like Amanda would nurture and heal. She could chase away his demons with a kiss.

  With that final thought, he leaned into her and took her mouth with his. The kiss became his first impulsive act since turning away from his partner in Iraq, distracted by the fall of Saddam’s statue, seconds before a bomb exploded. That was the unretractable moment that changed his life, all those years ago.

  Amanda tasted like fine whiskey and raspberry lip-gloss, freedom and forgiveness. When her tongue touched his and her hand caressed his cheek to bring him closer, he melted into her.

  Mickey had kissed many women in his life, but none had radiated the warmth and promise of this woman. Rather than take from him, she gave. Despite his advances, she offered. The generosity of her response to his demand touched his soul.

  He knew in that moment he’d do anything to win her.

  When they broke the kiss, Amanda’s expression looked as amazed as Mickey felt. Yet a smile touched her mouth, and a sigh like contentment escaped her lips as she sat back in her chair.

  Mickey said nothing but watched her recompose. Amanda smoothed the fabric of her skirt and ran a hand over the bodice of her blouse. After a moment, she glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. “I want to cook for you now.”

  Mickey reached out to touch her forearm. “Should I be sorry I did that?”

  She lifted her gaze to his and shook her head. “If you were sorry, it would mean the kiss meant nothing.”

  His hand closed on her arm. “You feel it too?”

  Amanda lowered her lids and nodded. She laid a hand over his. “I’m not sure what to do with this chemistry between us. I thought instant attraction only happened in stories. I need to sort things out while I make the best meal you’ve ever tasted.”

  Amanda Greer pulled her best stainless-steel pots and pans from their hooks above the stove and began to create Mickey Kent’s dinner. She chased the kitchen staff out of her way while she pan-seared steak, caramelized onions, and steamed vegetables using distilled water and real organic butter.

  The chocolate cake she’d baked from scratch cooled on a sideboard. When Mickey was ready for dessert, she’d spread homemade chocolate icing over its thick layers and then make espresso. She’d cut two thick slices, pour two cups of coffee, and sit with Mickey at the table. Andy and Elena would join them for after-dinner brandy.

  When her boss told her about the handsome paramedic with penetrating blue eyes and sand-colored hair who saved Jack’s life, Amanda had been anxious to meet him. Her motive then had been to offer thanks with the finest meal she could create. The stranger had rescued not only a child and his family, but Amanda, as well.

  Jack’s death would have destroyed his parents and their business. If Amanda lost her way of life to tragedy and devastation, where would she go? After losing her apartment in a Colorado wildfire and resettling in Pennsylvania, she wanted to put down roots. Appleton suited her. Rich with agriculture and open space, here she’d instantly felt at home. She’d grown fond of Andy, Elena and Jack, and the community too. They were like extended family. Mickey Kent had saved the hearts and spirits of many people by his intervention.

  Maybe that’s why she’d fallen a little in love with him before they met.

  While the steak sizzled, Amanda warmed Mickey’s plate and checked the vegetables for proper tenderness. She pulled fresh-baked bread from the oven, and its delectable scent filled the air. Her mouth watered. This meal must be perfect. Though her original motive for cooking had been gratitude, that had changed with a single impulsive kiss.

  Mickey’s entrance into her life proved she could trust the outcome of the unexpected. He put ego aside for the sake of others and took a risk with her by exposing his feelings. Through food art, Amanda wanted to share an intimate part of herself to bring them closer.

  Her lips still tingled in response to his. The throbbing between her legs beat gentle reminders that the most desirable man she’d ever met waited outside her kitchen. Her arms ached to hold him, and her belly tightened at thoughts of them moving naked together.

  Mickey Kent had unleashed the woman in her.

  When the time was right, Amanda would act on her feminine impulses. For now, she would feed him. She sensed that making love with Mickey would be as natural and nourishing as the wholesome foods that filled them.

  Mickey sat back in his chair a week later at Organics Fantastic, just before closing time, and groaned with satisfaction. “You’re a genius, Amanda. That chicken breast with wild mushrooms was delicious.”

  Amanda smiled from her seat beside him. “That’s how chickens taste when they’re not shot up with steroids and hormones. All I did was roast yours with a little sauce and some artistic ingenuity.”

  “My grandmother used to cook meals like these. Are you sure you’re not a nineteen-fifties throwback?”

  “I’m told I have an old soul.” Amanda grinned at him in the sexy way that made his heart and everything below his belt go thump. “As they say, everything old is new again.”

  He reached out and touched a shining tendril of her hair. “This will be my third and final visit here, unless I pay for my meal. I appreciate your hospitality, but I refuse to wear out my welcome.” Mickey had taken things slow but steady with Amanda after their initial meeting, to see if their attraction held or burned itself out.

  He’d never wanted her more.

  Mickey called or texted Amanda all week to let her know he was thinking of her, and brought some of the guys from the stationhouse around for lunch to help Andy and Elena grow their business. The restaurant had been a hit with the crew and adopted as their watering hole. As a bonus, Mickey hadn’t faced a single medical emergency inside the restaurant. He could relax here. His life blended with his newfound friends at Organics Fantastic, and he’d never been happier.

  He brushed a hand over Amanda’s shoulder, savoring the sensations of pliant skin beneath sleek cotton. He wanted to drag his hand to the fullness of her breast and knead its softness, or reach beneath her skirt to the source of her heat, but resisted the impulse. “Take a walk with me.” He needed to be alone with this woman.

  Amanda stood and urged him to follow. Mickey pulled his jacket from the chair beside him and Amanda lifted her sweater from the coat closet. Hand in hand, they stepped outside into the crisp autumn air.

  “This way,” Amanda whispered. She led him along the path stretching from the front porch to a stand of pines and oaks on the rear lawn, illuminated by lamplight and a bright harvest moon. When they reached the privacy of the trees, Mickey removed his jacket and wrapped it around her back. In one fluid motion, he pressed her torso against an ancient oak and kissed her.

  Amanda wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back while her fingers stroked his hairline, raising goose bumps along his skin. His breathing turned heavy as she lowered her hands to his chest and ran her palms over his nipples and pectorals. Quickly, she unbuttoned his shirt and reached inside to pinch and caress him.

  His head lolled back with the sensations her fingers created. Silken hands ran over his flesh and then worked his belt buckle. His erection strained beneath his pants zipper. Her mouth trailed hot kisses over his throat before her tongue lapped his chest. The knowledge that she wanted him sent his senses reeling. He wanted to do right by her.

  Mickey lifted Amanda off her feet and pressed her back against the tree for support while she wrapped her legs around his waist. The short skirt she wore shifted above her hips. Mickey cupped her bottom and groaned with pleasure as his hands touched firm, naked skin. Amanda wore only a thong.

  It took mere seconds for him to tear the fragile fabric and toss it to the ground. He stared down at the most beautiful pussy he’d ever seen, or would ever see again, spread wide and waiting for him. Using his thumb, he ran circles around her clitoris until Amanda shuddered.

  Then Mickey released the fly of his khakis.

  A
manda had gone out of her mind with desire for Mickey. Was this what crazy in love meant? That offering yourself, body and soul, to another seemed the most natural thing to do?

  She rested the crown of her head against the oak tree. Her back remained cushioned by Mickey’s jacket and her sweater, and his waist supported her legs, while he suckled her nipples and stroked her breasts as if he were a starving man.

  While he pinched the sensitive areolae and plump flesh, the length of his cock slid over her slick folds in a steady rhythm. The underside of the wide head rubbed her swollen clitoris until the pressure inside her built to near bursting. Pleasure rode over her in waves, and she cried out in anticipation of her climax.

  “I want to make love to you,” he said against her ear, his breaths coming in rapid pants. “Let me fuck you.”

  Amanda clutched his hips tighter against hers, lifting and sliding her clit along the thick length of his shaft. Her slick juices made the motions easy. “I want that too.”

  He released her and set her feet on the ground. Then Mickey took his jacket and spread it over the grass. Holding her hands, he guided her to the makeshift bed. Amanda lay under the bright fall moon and slid off her skirt in anticipation.

  The crackle of cellophane preceded Mickey’s return to her. He spread her legs, lifted her hips and lay between her thighs.

  Instead of penetrating her as she expected, he lowered his mouth to her vulva and licked the tender skin in quick, erotic strokes. She cried out with pleasure unlike any other she’d known, and then covered her mouth, for fear the others inside the farmhouse would hear her.

  No man had ever done this for her. She’d let men touch her and she’d had orgasms by their hands or hers, but no one had ever licked her clit or slid his tongue inside her channel.

  “I’m so close,” she warned. She wanted to climax around him. Though she’d never had intercourse, fingers had stretched and teased her. She knew enough about her sexuality to measure her responses.