by Marnee Blake
He didn’t want to spend longer than he needed to away from her.
Pressing her into the wall in her foyer, he ran his hands along her face, down her shoulders, along her sides. Every inch of her was so incredibly soft. She panted, and her head tilted back, giving him delicious access to the bare expanse of her neck and collarbone. He could kiss her mouth forever, but the temptation to taste that warm, creamy skin…it was too much.
Dragging his mouth from hers, he trailed his tongue along her jaw and down her neck.
Her pulse beat quickly there, and he pressed a soft kiss to it before moving on.
She strained against him, her fingers pressing into his shoulders. Spanning his fingers, he pulled her closer to him, bringing her entire length against him. If she didn’t know how much he wanted her before, she definitely did now.
“We need a bed,” he murmured against her throat, forcing himself to lean back, away from her, even while his entire body screamed for more.
Grabbing his hand, she led him toward the bedroom. Her grip was tight, as if she didn’t want to break the contact between them either.
In her bedroom, her reading light was on and she left it. An open novel lay face up on the bed, clueing him in to what she had been doing before he got there. She picked it up, and dropped it on the side table. The low light cast a soft glow over her skin.
He closed the gap between their bodies. Smoothing his hands along her back and up to her shoulders, he pulled her against him, taking her mouth again. He went slowly, determined to take his time with her. He’d already waited a lifetime for this, he could definitely make it worth the wait.
Her bare skin was silky under his fingertips. He needed more of it. Tucking his thumb under the straps of her camisole, he pulled them down over her shoulders, placing kisses as he went.
“Meg?” he whispered, sliding his fingers under the top of the camisole. “Can I ditch this?”
“Absolutely.”
He didn’t need more encouragement. With a soft tug, he pulled the tank top down. She wasn’t wearing a bra. He covered her small, rose-tipped breasts with his palms and swallowed her gasp with his kiss.
God, everything about this, touching her, holding her, it was exactly what he’d always wanted. Not because he’d been saving himself for her these years, because he hadn’t. He’d dated other women. Sometimes he’d go out with the same woman a few times, sometimes a couple months. No matter how long, no matter how hot the sex, the relationship would cool. It wasn’t conscious. He would find that he didn’t seek out their conversation or he wouldn’t actively want to see them, to hear what they had to say. When he noticed, he would end it because he wasn’t trying to be a dick. He just didn’t see the sense in letting things go on if his heart wasn’t in it.
But this? Everything about holding Meg touched him somewhere else. This woman had grown up with him. She’d cared about him when no one else saw him. She’d run with three boys and had held her own. She was strong, loyal, and fierce.
And now, she would be his.
Dropping his head, he took the tip of one breast into his mouth, sucking gently. Her fingers smoothed against his shoulders, pulling him toward her. He gathered her closer in response, nearly bending her backward.
Her lithe body bore all the signs of regular runs and hard work. She was long, muscled, and gorgeous.
He backed them up, and they tumbled together onto the bed behind them. Her hands found the bottom of his shirt, tugging it up his back and over his head. He ducked out of it, flinging it on the floor and returning his mouth to hers.
Her hands had gone to the waistband of her pants. Lifting her hips, she shimmied them over her backside and slipped them down her legs and over her bare feet, leaving her only in a modest pair of white cotton bikini panties.
She followed his glance, shrugging. “I wasn’t expecting company.”
He chuckled as he tugged at the button on his pants and pulled his fly down, wiggling out of his jeans and tossing them on the floor with her clothes.
He gathered her in his arms, him with only his boxers on, her in her cotton panties. As all their bare skin connected, they both stilled. Her eyes found his, and she looked concerned. He ran his hand over her cheek, smoothing his thumb over her forehead. Maybe he was attempting to rub out the wrinkle he found there. “Hey. You okay?”
She shook her head, but her concern remained.
He pressed again. As much as he craved going further, as much as he wanted to keep running his hands along the rest of her body, he mostly wanted to make sure she was happy. “We can stop. You’re not ready for this. We’ll stop.”
She gripped his biceps, her hold firm. “No, that’s not it at all. I don’t want to stop.” She swallowed. “I want to be with you. I’ve always wanted to be with you.”
It seemed like their entire lives had been leading up to this moment, as if he’d been waiting for her, for this. Maybe there were things that should hold them apart, but right now, whatever was happening between them was inevitable.
He leaned toward her, kissing her softly. From there, though, the chemistry between them became undeniable. He didn’t want to go slow, his need for her pushing him forward. She didn’t mind, though, matching him for intensity. He covered her face, her shoulders, and her breasts with kisses, reveling in the taste of her on his tongue and his lips.
He tugged her panties down, his hands shaking. When she was naked beneath him, he inhaled sharply. “My God. You’re gorgeous.”
When she might have blushed at another time, now her eyes only shined up at him, full of tenderness and something intense that touched him somewhere he hadn’t known needed to be reached. She pulled him toward her, giving him a kiss that broke him open.
He needed to taste her.
He trailed his mouth down her body, across her stomach, until he settled between her legs. Pressing her thighs open with his palms, he ducked down, and placed his lips to the soft folds.
This was definitely the sweetest part of her.
He groaned, and then ran his tongue along the tender flesh, and she rewarded him with a soft cry, her fingers flexing into the blankets. He forced himself to focus through the buzzing in his head. Watching every flex of her muscle, every gasp, he began the gift of learning what she liked, what made her shiver and gasp.
He settled in, determined to make her come, but when he thought she was getting close, she shimmied up. “No.”
He leaned up on his elbows, his stomach dropping. “No?” She wanted to stop? Now? That was not what he’d expected to hear.
She laughed. “Not no, stop. No, I want you to be inside me.”
He grinned, her confidence making him tighten further. He shimmied off the bed, dropped his boxers, and reached into his pants pocket for his wallet, retrieving the condom he had there. Rolling it on, he returned to the bed, leaning on one knee, before he caught her looking at him.
She had her bottom lip tucked between her teeth and was staring at his dick. The admiration there made him groan. “Meg, stop.”
She laughed again, shifting to the side and patting the bed. “Here.”
He cocked his head, questioning.
“Lie down,” she said.
He did as she asked, and she straddled him. The muscles on her strong legs flexed, and he ran his hands along them, helping her position herself above him. In the dim light, her skin was rosy, flushed. She stared down at him, and as she placed her hands on his lower stomach, the muscles there flexed.
That was nothing compared to how it felt when she began to lower herself, taking him inside her.
His head kicked back, and his eyes closed as he groaned with the feel of it all. Her inner thighs flexed against his hips, and she used her hands against his stomach to help her balance as she lifted and lowered on him.
He forced his eyes open, needing to watch her. He
r eyes were closed, and her head tilted back. The position jutted her breasts out, and her nipples were tight and deep rose. The lines of her belly and the curve of her hips…she rode him slower than he’d like, as his body roared for release, but he didn’t hurry her pace. He wanted to savor this, the vision of her.
Though he was beneath her, he didn’t mind not being in charge right now. He spanned his hands across her hips, dipping his fingers into where they were joined to softly rub her clit, and she jerked, her inner muscles squeezing him in response and causing him to groan again. He kept up the soft pressure with his hands as she leaned further back and into his fingers. Her eyes lifted, still heavy-lidded, and the desire there dried his mouth, made him determined to do whatever it took to bring her pleasure, give her whatever she needed.
When her pace increased, he rocked slightly to meet her, and she came. As she gripped him, both inside and out, he fell apart beneath her, holding her hips and their connection as she fell forward, her breasts against his chest.
As their breath returned to normal, he pulled her closer, believing that the weight of her against him was the most delicious mass of all.
If he’d believed that he was making her his, he had been fooling himself. Being with Meg touched him in ways he’d never expected, ways he’d never known he needed. He would never be able to pretend they didn’t exist again.
He was hers.
* * * *
Meg woke slowly, her head tucked under Lance’s arm and her hand curled on his chest. She was warm, both because she was snuggled up on him, but also because the air conditioning didn’t work well in her little apartment.
She didn’t move as her eyes flickered open.
They’d slept together.
She always suspected that if they gave into the heat between them that she wouldn’t be able to stop herself. When she sent the text to him earlier, she’d known that if he reached out, if he offered to kiss her again, she wouldn’t stop him. She only hadn’t expected things to progress so fast after that.
Maybe she should have. She’d wanted him her entire life. Their lovemaking had stirred emotions she’d never felt before. Though she didn’t take sex lightly and she’d slept with other men she’d cared about, this had been a completely different animal.
It had all felt right.
Now, though, in the aftermath, all the reasons why she’d doubted in the first place came rushing back.
Tomorrow, they’d go back to their real lives, the same life that also included her brothers and mother who wouldn’t accept their new…situation. She was still his trainer, at least for another two weeks. After that, how was she going to explain their new intimacy when she was an authority figure in the spring?
None of that was more complicated than his job. Caring for someone like him was playing with fire. And she did care for him, whether she wanted to or not.
“Whatever’s going through your head, you should stop.” His sleep-husky voice broke into her thoughts.
She grinned, her cheek moving against his chest. “I was just thinking about how this changes everything.”
He rubbed her shoulder. “You should save thinking for later.” As if to press home his point, he covered her mouth with his.
With his lips on hers, she ran her hands along his back muscles, pressing her fingertips into her shoulder blades. She leaned into him, allowing his smell, his taste fill her senses.
She dreamed of his kiss for years. It was as good as she imagined. Not soft, but not hard. Firm, without being overpowering.
Perfect.
Their mouths played against each other, fitting like a hand in a glove. Against his chest, her nipples tightened, and her heart pounded in her ears. With her eyes closed, she allowed him to overwhelm her senses, and the exhilaration of being so close to him blocked out everything but the two of them.
He tangled his hands in her hair, angling her mouth so he could take her lips more fully. She opened further for him, and when his tongue slipped against hers, she met him equally.
This is what she’d always wanted. Lance. Holding her, wanting her…the reality was better than her dreams.
Now that she’d allowed herself to touch him, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever be able to stop.
When it was over, she lay in his arms. Into the silence, she said, “I didn’t want to fall for you.”
“I know.”
“You’re a firefighter. Like my brothers, my father. I already worry about them…” She pressed a kiss into his shoulder, beneath her cheek, and inhaled a shaking breath. “Now, I need to worry about you.”
His chest rose and fell under her head. She beat of his heart under her hand was steady. He covered it with his own, squeezing. “I’ll do my best not to make you worry.”
He lifted her fingers, turning them to press a kiss to her palm.
She wanted to believe him, but she knew better. Caring for him carried risk. It was a recipe for worry and fear. Too late, though, to think about that.
She was already in love with him, had maybe been in love with him her entire life. Her only option now was to hold on the best she could and hope the fire didn’t take him away from her.
Chapter 14
“The elevator is down the hall.” The pretty receptionist pointed toward the east corridor, her dimple showing. “Want me to show you?”
“No, I’m good. Thank you,” Lance said with a grin, rapping his knuckles on the desk. Sometimes being relatively good-looking came in handy.
He revisited everything he needed to say as he hurried into the elevator, and pressed the two. He didn’t have much time because Mitch wanted them in the air center by 9:30. If he was late, so be it. Some things had to be said.
The elevator dinged, and he turned left toward Hunter’s room. Around him, hospital staff bustled with early morning chores. The whole place smelled like institutional food and his stomach roiled. He’d picked up something for breakfast on his way. He refused to buy food here.
He paused outside room 227 and took a deep breath. Then, he tapped his knuckles on the doorjamb. “Knock, knock.”
As he stepped inside, his first thought was that Hunter looked worse than he expected. His face was busted up, covered in stitches and black and blue marks. His leg was in traction, and his arm was covered in a wrap over his shoulder. He was pale. For someone in amazing shape, he looked as if the life had been stolen from him.
“Didn’t expect to see you.” The side of Hunter’s mouth turned up in a pained grimace. “Then again, maybe I should have.”
“How are you feeling?” As good a place as any to start.
“Like I have a broken leg and had to have shoulder surgery.”
The comment was so typical of the old Hunter, it surprised a laugh out of him. As the familiarity faded, though, it was replaced by the new awkwardness between them.
Might as well get this over with.
“I want you to know I did everything I could…I mean, the jump…everything went bad.” He shook his head. “I can’t think of anything else that could’ve helped.” When he practiced this in his head, it sounded a lot smoother. Didn’t seem to be any good way to apologize for someone’s injuries.
Hunter glared at him. “Wait, you’re blaming yourself?” He chuckled, but it was wry, lacked humor. “Did you exit the plane badly? Are you the one that twisted my parachute? Because last I checked, that was all me.”
“Hell, Hunter, you know everyone will think it’s my fault anyway. I can’t seem to do anything right.” It was true, fair or not.
“Well that’s bullshit. I was there. We’re good here.” Hunter glanced out the window.
Except they weren’t, where they? “Listen, Hunter…I wanted to talk about something—”
“Are we really going to do this now? It’s been ten years.” Hunter twisted the sheet in his hand, his knuckles wh
ite. “You saved my life. I think we’re even.”
“It was never about even. And you know me well enough to know that I don’t need any incentive to save someone.” Lance exhaled his exasperated breath. “This has nothing to do with what happened yesterday. We used to be tight. And I screwed up. I should have come to see you after the fire.”
Hunter sized him up. After a long moment, he nodded. “You’re right. You should have.”
So that’s how it was going to be. Lance glared at him. “Yeah. I was an asshole.”
“You’re right. You were.”
“And a bad friend.”
“Yeah. That, too.”
Lance rolled his eyes. “Anything else?”
Hunter stared at him. Lance refused to squirm. Either Hunt was ready to get over it, or he wasn’t. He’d done all he could.
That didn’t keep him from holding his breath.
Finally, Hunter grinned. It was a grin from the past, full of shared mischief-making. “Nah, that covers it.”
That smile…it lifted a weight from Lance’s chest, a heaviness he’d carried for years. Without it, he wanted to laugh.
“At least we got that out of the way.” Shaking his head, he snorted. “Listen, I have to get back.” He reached into the side table drawer, pulling out the standard-issue hospital and hotel room pad of paper and pen. He scribbled his cell phone number and tore off the top sheet. “Call me. Or text. Whatever.”
He dropped the sheet of paper on the tray next to Hunter’s bed, giving it a tap. Tucking his hands in his pockets, gave him a quick nod. “Later?”
“Yeah, man. Later.”
They stood there grinning at each other for an extra moment. A quick rap on the door interrupted them.
“This a private party?” The door framed Meg, but it didn’t do her justice. Lying next to her all night, he paused more than once to look at her. She was gorgeous, but he expected the shine of it to wear off. Yet here she was, as lovely as ever. More so. Because he knew exactly what she looked like, under all those clothes, and it was lovelier than he could’ve ever imagined.