by Rachel Lee
All of a sudden, he felt unsure, wondering if, despite what she said, he was taking advantage of her.
“Wayne?”
He realized he’d been standing still too long. “Are you sure about this?” he asked. Because however much he wanted her, he didn’t want her if she had to disappear to some closed-off space within herself.
“I’m sure.” Then, amazing him, she smiled and lifted a hand. “Did I put you off?”
“I just want you to be right here, right now, with me.”
Her smile faded a little but she continued to hold out her hand to him. “I’m here. I’m more here than I’ve ever been except in the middle of a fire.”
Still feeling a bit unsure, but unable to hold himself back, he stripped quickly. The make-or-break moment, he thought with an almost grim amusement, even as need hammered his entire body. He felt his erection stiffen until the ache became consuming. In a last moment of sanity, he pulled a condom from the drawer and rolled it on.
He knew what she saw. He was in good shape, but being a fireman didn’t leave a body unscarred. He waited, watching her gaze trail over his nakedness for the very first time. Lisa had been appalled by some of his scars, had even once asked if he couldn’t have them removed somehow.
But Charity didn’t do that. Rolling onto her side, she touched his arm, his thigh, causing his heart to beat liked a huge drum.
“Transfer burns?” she asked.
“Yeah.” When a fire was hot enough, if the exterior of a turnout uniform heated enough then got compressed against the skin by movement or an obstacle, the heat could pass right through the protective layers. Almost all firefighters got second-degree burns; some got worse. He had a few that were worse.
“I was lucky and never got one.”
Before he could answer, she seized his hand and pulled him down. He nearly fell on her, twisting just in time so that he caught most of his weight on his elbow, one leg across hers.
Then he heard the most wonderful sound in the world: Charity laughed. He looked down into her face and saw no more of the distance he had feared. She was definitely here with him in the now. Those sparkling eyes, the smile, the catch in her breathing... Oh, yes, the fire had been lit.
She raised her hands, running them over his shoulders, still smiling. “You’re a beautiful man, Wayne Camden. Of course, I knew you would be, but it’s more than that gorgeous body of yours. It shines from your eyes.”
He didn’t know how to answer that, so he gave up all attempts to speak and instead covered her mouth in a deep kiss that tried to spill all his hunger into her. Her arms tightened on his shoulders as she opened her mouth to him, holding him close, pulling him closer still.
When she pulled her mouth from his, it was only to draw a couple of shuddery breaths and murmur, “Feel me. I’ve never wanted anyone so much.”
Nor had he, he realized. He had thought he had known desire in all its forms, but now he discovered a whole new world, one where it conquered him.
He could smell the heat rising from her, a heady, dizzying scent, joined by his own, he was sure. Her skin felt like silk everywhere their bodies met, and as he lowered his head to taste her sweet mouth again, he ran his palm down her side. She squirmed as if delighted by the sensation, and her nails dug into his shoulders. He could feel impatience building in her just as it was building in him. Just as it had been building since the moment he had heard the swish of her stockings as she’d raised her leg in that teasing fashion.
He wanted to move slowly, to savor this precious gift, but passion goaded him almost to the edge of insanity. When her hips began to rock beneath him, he knew she was ready, as ready as he was.
He slid his hand down between her legs, drawing a groan from her, feeling her arch into his touch, feeling a dampness that told him she was right with him.
His mind whirled away, with one last thought about finesse, then he slid over her and into her as if propelled by irresistible force. At once her hands gripped his hips, pulling closer still as if she wanted all of him inside her.
The universe began to move in time with the pounding of his body, a syncopation as irresistible as the woman beneath him. Time and again they rocked together; the ache growing, building, consuming them.
When he felt her stiffen and cry out in completion, he followed her almost instantly, everything inside him exploding, erupting, filling his head and body with a million fireworks.
Dazzled, he returned slowly to earth, holding Charity in his arms, knowing she now owned her own place in his heart.
* * *
“Wow.” The quiet murmur escaped her. His body was still heated, slick now with sweat, and so sated he felt as if the strength had been drained from him.
But when she gave him a little push on the shoulder, he managed to pull away from her and fall flat on his back.
“Delilah,” he whispered in response.
Delight filled him as a quiet laugh escaped her. “I didn’t cut your hair.”
“Might as well have.” He opened his eyes as much as he could and saw she now rested on her side, smiling at him. She looked sleepy with sated passion, but happy. As happy as he felt.
Her hand came to rest on his chest, and he was sure she could feel the heavy, rapid beat of his heart.
“I demand a rematch,” she said.
“Dang, woman, give me a minute to recover.”
Her smile grew a bit impish. “Oh, I need it, too. I thought you put out fires. Never occurred to me you caused conflagrations.”
He laughed. “Be right back.” Drained though he felt, he hurried to his bath to take care of some necessary business, and returned with a warm, damp washcloth. Kneeling beside her, he began to wash her gently, removing any remaining stickiness.
“Heaven,” she said, closing her eyes and giving herself up to his ministrations. Her movements beneath his touch were sinuous, almost catlike, and so very sexy. He was sure he enjoyed it every bit as much as she. He took the opportunity to explore her, returning to the bath a couple of times to dampen the cloth again with hot water.
Every line of her was perfect. Neither overendowed nor underendowed, she struck him as elegant right down to the arches of her feet. Even her toes might have been carved by an expert sculptor. Bending, he kissed the inside of each foot, and felt a shiver run through her.
When he finished, he snagged a corner of the covers and pulled them over her. “You must be getting chilled.”
“I could never get chilled around you.”
A smile filled him as surely as it appeared on his face. At last he slipped beneath the blanket with her, and she came into his arms as naturally as if she had always belonged there. She certainly fit against him as if she did.
Then, trying for another peek into her mind, he spoke. “I noticed you don’t seem to be troubled by nudity. Not even a little shy. What were you thinking about when you stripped for me?” Because given the way this woman had of disappearing inside herself, he still wondered if she had been doing that initially.
A small laugh escaped her. “When I was growing up, I spent a lot of time in Europe. Nudity isn’t a big deal there.”
“Really?” He tried to imagine it. He was used to something very different.
“Really. To give you an example, some women my mother knew got caught in a downpour and darted into a restaurant. They stripped to their underwear and had lunch while their clothes dried over the radiators. It shocked Mom, which was why she mentioned it, but it made perfect sense to me. But I’d already been exposed and I was just ten.”
“Cute story.”
“Bet I’d get arrested if I tried that here.”
“Maybe. After every guy in the vicinity got an eyeful anyway.”
She laughed again and stretched against him, reawakening the hunger that never se
emed to die around her. She must have felt him hardening, because all of a sudden she tossed the blankets aside and reached for his stiffening erection. “Nice,” she murmured. “I like being able to do that to you.”
Then she astonished him by kissing the burn scar on his upper arm.
“What?” she asked, apparently feeling him tense.
“Nothing really. Well, Lisa thought those scars were ugly. She asked if I could get them removed.”
“Not likely.” She bent and kissed him there again, then laid her hand over the scar on his thigh. While he missed her warm grasp around his penis, her touch on his leg eased something deep within him. “Badges of courage,” she said. “A lot of courage. I was lucky. I never got burned, but that wouldn’t have lasted if I’d stayed. I remember more than one of the guys suddenly running out of a building, stripping his turnout gear at top speed. Then he’d ask someone to look and it was always the same. ‘Hot spot. Get to the ambulance.’”
“Yeah. Just part of the job.”
She curled closer, once again wrapping her warm hand around his penis, pressing a kiss to his chin. “Up for another round, Chief?”
Was he ever. This time she put the condom on him, the most exquisite torture ever devised. Then she rose above him, straddling his hips, supporting herself on her knees and arms, giving him a full view of all her delights. Her breasts dangled enticingly close, and he lifted his head, sucking one of her dusky pink nipples into his mouth. Then he slid his hand down between them and found her dewy core, parting her petals so he could stroke that exquisitely sensitive nub of nerves. She caught her breath, arching a little, almost pulling free of his mouth on her breast, but not quite.
“Damn, you light my fuse fast,” she gasped.
“Me, too,” he answered with the last bit of air he seemed to be able to find.
Drawing her nipple deeply into his mouth, he sucked hard and harder, finally nipping gently until she cried out. Her hips bucked against his hand, and he felt his own hips reaching up, trying to meet her. She was driving him nuts, driving everything from his head except a need to find satisfaction within her depths. She rocked above him, teasing him while pleasing herself, her movements telling him where and how much she wanted.
He ached and throbbed, his entire universe centered on her, on the opening so tantalizingly close, on the scents and sounds that enveloped him and swept him away. He wanted this to last forever, and feared it might, all at the same time. He felt as if his whole body might explode at any moment.
Then, at last, she lowered herself, guiding him into her. The sensation felt like a welder’s arc, uniting them, fusing them into a single being. Together at last they rocked with near desperation as they climbed higher and higher until, at last, they soared off the top of the mountain and took flight together.
* * *
Much later they showered together. He enjoyed every minute of soaping her body and hair, and then when she was slick all over, he used his hand to bring her to another precipice while she gripped desperately at his shoulders. Her cry of pleasure echoed in the room.
She reciprocated, and only the safety bar he’d installed while Lisa was pregnant saved him from cracking his head as he jetted all over Charity. Laughing, they washed again, then toweled every bit as playfully, as if memorizing one another’s bodies and their most sensitive points.
She made everything else go away, Wayne realized when at last she donned her robe and he pulled on some sweatpants. Together they headed to the kitchen, where the remains of dinner had to be tossed because they had sat out too long, and he started another pot of coffee while searching out something for them to nibble on. He didn’t know if she was hungry, but he was ravenous.
At last he settled on crackers and some white cheddar, and they carried a platter and some napkins into the living room.
Charity had grown silent again, her happiness and laughter seeming to fade away. Time again for reality, he supposed. He just wondered which reality she was pondering.
“Where are your parents?” she asked, surprising him with the unexpected direction.
“They retired to Arizona. We visit back and forth a couple of times a year.”
“I’m glad you still have them.”
“I’m sorry you don’t have yours.”
Her face shadowed a bit. “I miss them sometimes, but I’m not sure I ever really fit in their lives. Which is probably an awful thing for me to say.”
“Why?” He moved a little closer, holding out the platter until she took a cracker and a slice of cheese and put it on her napkin.
She shrugged one shoulder. “Truth? Sometimes I felt as though I was accidental baggage they had to carry around. Not always, but sometimes. And maybe that’s not fair, considering the constant state of motion we were living in.”
“I can’t offer an opinion.”
She smiled faintly. “Of course not. Kids have a way of exaggerating things sometimes. I’m sure that they did the best they knew how. Maybe I just wasn’t a good fit for them, or they for me. Certainly I never felt as if I was the object of malice.”
“Well, that’s good, I suppose.” He wondered if this woman even began to conceive of how alone she was. She’d admitted she herself kept it that way, but it still saddened him until he ached. Even after Lisa had left, he’d had plenty of friends, and Linda, to help him over the hump. Charity stood absolutely alone, by choice or disposition.
“Anyway,” she said briskly. “I just wondered about your parents. You’re the most prototypical family man I’ve ever met.”
“Or allowed yourself to know.” He wished the words unsaid when he saw her wince, but then she seemed to accept the justice of it.
“True. I’m not liking myself much right now.”
“And I think I told you to quit beating yourself up. It’s not as if you’re a criminal. We’re all the products of our life experiences. If we can make a change when it’s needed, then there’s nothing wrong with us at all.”
She ate her cracker and cheese, reaching for another. “Great cheese,” she remarked, then sighed. “Okay, for now I’ll leave it alone. I don’t want to ruin this night with you.”
“I don’t think you possibly could.”
For once he seemed to have found the right words. Her smile was warm and genuine. “You make me feel good in so many ways.”
He wondered if she’d ever felt that way before about someone, and hoped she had. But asking would be exactly the wrong thing to do. It struck him that never before had he tiptoed so carefully around anyone, yet he seemed to do a lot of that with Charity. Maybe that wasn’t fair to her. After all, she’d exposed some pretty raw wounds to him. She was a tough woman. But one thing he entirely agreed with her about: he didn’t want to ruin this night.
“So,” she asked, startling him, “I suppose with the upcoming budget cuts, you won’t be taking on any new firefighters.”
He could almost feel his jaw drop, although he hoped it was only a little bit. “Thinking about a job for yourself?” He hated the way his voice sounded rough, almost hoarse, but now he was on tenterhooks awaiting her answer.
She half shrugged again. “Maybe. It keeps crossing my mind. But you wouldn’t want me. I’m out of shape and my training is so old it hardly counts. If I want to start again, I guess it would have to be as a volunteer.”
He wouldn’t want her? So typical of her, he thought. “I take on inexperienced firefighters all the time. The volunteers get trained. The hires go to the academy. You said you’d been to the academy.”
“Arson academy. My volunteer training was mostly done by the department I worked with. Took some classes. Not the kind of totally intensive training a big-city career type would take.”
“Any EMT experience?”
“Only the basics. Look, I’m not trying to interview with you.�
�� She flushed faintly. “I’m just trying on the idea. I used to love it.”
“You told me.”
She nodded, looking down. “And then I ran. Typical. I should probably stop thinking about doing things that I’ll eventually run from.”
“Or maybe you won’t run. How the hell are you going to find out if you don’t try?”
“Good question,” she admitted.
He realized something then, but maybe too late to warn himself off. He was getting tangled with this woman in ways far beyond the professional and sexual. From his reaction, he couldn’t deny he was hoping she would want to stay here.
But equally, he couldn’t imagine that she would. She was a world traveler. She currently lived in a large city. What the hell could Conard County provide to a woman whose tastes leaned toward globe-trotting?
All righty, then. He was being a damned fool. And when she left next week, he’d better be prepared to fool the world, most especially his daughter. If Lindy thought for a minute he was missing Charity, he could already hear her demand to know why he didn’t follow and what the hell was holding him here.
Good questions. Thing was, he loved his job, and would feel like a fish out of water anywhere else. Lisa had never gotten that about their years in Glenwood Springs. She’d enjoyed herself, and he’d felt he hadn’t fit. Sure, it was another small town, but with a very different feel. They’d made friends, but not even that had made him feel he’d found his place.
His place had always been right here. Insurmountable problem.
They went back to bed together, and made love for most of the night. Lindy might be home tomorrow, and Charity would be leaving, probably on Tuesday.
This was all they had. He resigned himself to it, and focused all his attention on enjoying her.
Chapter 12
Monday morning arrived too quickly for Charity. Her time alone with Wayne had been transporting, and she’d had a good time with Linda after she came home. She was looking forward to the drill today, but she could have used a few more hours in the cocoon of Wayne’s arms.