The semi-useless doorknob rattled in her hand. She closed the door, wincing when the ruptured frame kept the latch from engaging. Blowing out a breath, she leaned against the cool wood and breathed deep. She knew she should be humiliated, or at least vaguely embarrassed, but she wasn’t. The only thing she felt was hot. And at the moment, she reveled in the heat. It beat the crap out of feeling empty and numb all the time.
Pressing the towel to her breasts, she sighed. The memory of that rough coat tweaking her nipples, and Trey Hansen’s warm hand on the back of her thigh, would be prime fodder for the fantasies that got her through long, lonely nights. The image of his gorgeous face coupled with that sexy, husky voice made her blood sing for the first time in…forever. This one teeny-tiny blip in an otherwise dull life would keep her vibrator humming for months, if not years. The man had tossed her without regard for any perceived delicacy, and she damn well liked it. A lot.
The thought unleashed a torrent of guilt and shame. “Please let Mrs. Wilkins be okay.” Her prayer came on a rush of breath, but it was Trey Hansen’s parting shot that left her reeling.
“He’s coming back.”
She pushed from the door, her feet slapping hardwood as she dashed down the hall to her bedroom. The towel fell to the floor the moment she crossed the threshold. Hurtling herself into the walk-in closet, she grabbed the first thing that came to hand—a leopard print silk robe she’d found on clearance just before Mike died.
She’d never had a chance to wear it. Two days after she’d made the purchase, a head-on collision had robbed her of her high-school sweetheart and what seemed like her last opportunity for seduction. Until now. For the first time since the day she’d snagged the robe from the sale rack, a spark of life flared inside her.
The slippery fabric tickled her thighs. Cinching the belt tight, she made a beeline to the bathroom on a quest for her blow drier and a tube of tinted moisturizer. It seemed un-neighborly to hope Mrs. Wilkins’ house was engulfed in flames long enough to allow for a complete makeover.
Trey cooled his jets on the back of the truck while Lieutenant Dolinski and a couple other guys stayed in the house to calm Mrs. Wilkins. The small kitchen fire was out before they arrived. What was left behind was minimal damage, compounded by the mess caused by the fire extinguisher. Before they left, the firefighters would probably make a few calls to set repairs in motion. That was the way things worked around here—neighbors watching out for neighbors, firemen coming to the rescue.
The possibility of rescuing a beautiful naked woman was a strong motivator in any firefighter’s training, but he’d never believed it might come true. His gaze drifted in the direction of Addison’s house. Of course, the only thing he’d saved that particular damsel in distress from was a hot shower.
Fires were rare occurrences in a town the size of St. Joe. They spent most of their time investigating potential gas leaks and teaching second graders to stop, drop, and roll. That is, when they weren’t pulling cats from trees. That’s why he climbed into his turnout gear as excited as a teenager anxious for his first handful of tit when the alarm bell rang. Nothing was going to stop him from fighting that fire. Not a door, or a lock, or a sopping-wet naked woman running smack into his arms.
“Shit.”
Addison Jacobs was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen. Pretty and smart and worlds above a guy whose dad worked as the school janitor when he wasn’t too drunk to push a mop. She’d married Mike Mason right after graduation, and the two of them had settled down to the perfect small-town life. Perfect—until Mike bought it in a car wreck. Not that her change in marital status gave him half a shot. She was a widow, and, if possible, even more untouchable than ever. Now, thanks to him, she was also a woman living alone with a busted front door.
He huffed a sigh and jumped down, stomping to the side of the truck and coming to a halt just below the driver’s window. Stanley Tarklington stared down at him with a mixture of amusement and pity.
Hooking a thumb over his shoulder, Trey muttered, “Gotta see a lady about a door.” He pulled his helmet from his head and shrugged out of his jacket. “Give my gear a ride?”
The older man took the bulky equipment he passed through the window and nodded. “I’m making spaghetti tonight. I’m not keeping it warm for you.”
Trey snickered and raised one hand in acknowledgement as he trudged down the sidewalk. His steps slowed to a plod when he reached her block. She had the shaggiest lawn around. He couldn’t help but wonder if its owner would forgo suing the department in exchange for a trim. He smiled as the memory of warm, wiggling woman brought a different kind of trim to mind.
His heart rate dropped, slowing to a dull thud as he raised his hand to knock. The door swung open the second his knuckles touched wood. He scowled at the useless latch and shook his head.
“Hello?” Resigned, he barged into her home for the second time. “Addison? It’s Trey Hansen,” he called, craning his neck to peer down the short hall.
“Oh!”
He whirled toward her gasp and nearly swallowed his tongue when he spotted her hovering in the doorway opposite the narrow hall. She wore some kind of animal print robe—if that flimsy excuse for fabric could be called a robe. It was short, and silky, and barely covered the parts he’d put on display earlier.
“Hey, Trey.” She tugged at the hem of the robe, but her efforts were in vain. The scant fabric barely grazed mid-thigh.
Now that he got a good look at her, he couldn’t help being a little bitter about the fact he’d done all the work while the other guys got to appreciate the view. Thick red hair curved just under her chin and a pair of big brown eyes delivered a punch that sent him reeling. He bobbed a slow nod. “Addi.”
She rubbed the top of one foot with the sole of the other then fussed with the tie at her waist. “You came back.”
“I said I would.” To put her at ease, he flashed a sheepish smile. “Seems I had a little disagreement with your door over where the fire might be.” His smile faded into a wince. “I’m really sorry about this,” he murmured, surveying the damage. “I got a little… No one answered, and I might have been a bit over the top.” Her eyebrows rose and he tried to mask the little white lie he was about to tell with a friendly smile. “Sorry about, uh, grabbing you.”
“It’s okay.”
Her voice was deeper than he remembered. Rich, velvety, and so husky it was almost obscene. He cleared the boulder from his throat. “I came by to secure your door for the night. I’d be happy to come back when I’m off duty tomorrow to take care of the repair.”
“You’d do that?”
He raised one shoulder. “I’m the one who kicked it.” His suspender slipped and he yanked the strap back into place, shifting his weight. “I’m, uh...I was sorry to hear about Mike.”
She nodded, but the warm glow faded from her eyes. “Thank you.” She held the lapels of the robe closed at the base of her throat. “I have a toolkit in the kitchen. Maybe you can take a look and see if it has what you need.”
Trey followed her into the sunshine-yellow room. Ruffled curtains framed the window above the sink. The décor reflected its owner: unflinchingly feminine and gut-wrenchingly inviting. The slinky robe crept up the backs of her thighs, exposing the sweet curve of her ass when she bent to peer into a cabinet.
She straightened, clutching the toolkit to her chest. “I appreciate your help.”
Her voice was soft and sounded sincere, but the stubborn set of her chin told him she didn’t appreciate his offer one bit. He took one step closer, accepting the plastic box she thrust at him.
“You know, you can tell me to piss off if you want.” She inhaled sharply and he chanced a cautious smile. “But I would really like to stay and fix the door so I can sleep tonight. I love sleeping.”
“I’m not helpless.”
He met those big brown eyes directly and waited for her to continue.
“I’ve been handling things on my own for a long time
now.”
He smiled. “Gotcha. You’re tough as stale beef jerky.”
Her eyes widened, then danced. She let loose a breathy laugh and turned toward the fridge, shaking her head in dismay. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s been a stressful night.”
“What with getting your door kicked in and being hoisted up and carried around stark naked?”
“Among other things,” she replied, a sly smirk accompanying her cryptic response. She pulled two beers from the fridge and offered one to him, steadfastly ignoring his excuses about being on duty. Smart woman.
He returned her smile and reached for both longnecks, twisting off the caps before handing one back to her. She toasted him with the bottle, and the front of her robe gaped just enough to expose a hint of breast. “To you, Firefighter Handsome.”
He chuckled then rolled his eyes at the old nickname. She ran her tongue across her lower lip, meeting his gaze directly. The laugh died in his parched throat. His blood flow shifted to parts further south. He blinked to clear the haze of lust from his vision.
“Are you flirting with me, Mrs. Mas—” he stumbled to a stop when she flinched.
“Addi,” she corrected in a sultry hush. She pushed away from the counter and stepped into his space. Delicate silk snagged on the nubby nylon of his suspender. Her breasts grazed his chest. He took two quick steps back, putting the tiny dinette table between them.
A rosy blush tinted her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.” She wet her lips, then shook her head. “Ignore me,” she whispered in a rush.
“Not a chance. And I’m not embarrassed.”
Lifting her chin, she gave him a tight smile. “Don’t worry about the door. I can fix it myself.”
Annoyed by her easy dismissal, he rushed headlong into the fire. She jerked when he kicked a chair aside in his haste to get to her but he didn’t care. She opened her mouth to speak, and he covered it with his. He slipped one hand under her robe and his palm formed to the curve of her lush, ripe ass as if she were made for him.
Addi moaned when the tip of his tongue traced the seam of her lips. The moment they parted he swept in, tasting the heady tang of hops on her tongue. He flexed his knees and lifted her up, groaning into her mouth as she wound her arms around his neck and held on. He cleared the table with one sweep of his arm.
She broke the kiss, gasping as he parted her robe. “Oh God, no one has touched me in so long. Not like you did earlier—like I wouldn’t shatter into a million pieces.” Arching her back, she thrust her chin at the ceiling, offering herself up to him. “I can take it. Touch me. Please touch me.”
He did as she asked, filling his palms with her breasts and teasing her nipples with the pads of his thumbs. The rosy tips puckered and reached for him, begging for more. He kissed her again, his tongue tangling with hers. He pinched the hardened points and her teeth sank into his lower lip. Blood pooled in his mouth and rushed to his dick.
“Christ.”
The word bounced off her skin—half-prayer, half-curse. He ground against her, trying desperately to get closer, but thwarted by thick layers of protective clothing. Swearing under his breath, he shrugged out of his suspenders and tore at the fastenings on his bunker pants.
She pressed her palms to his cheeks, stroking his temples and pulling him down. Her mouth met his once more and the soft warmth of her lips was too much to resist.
Her hands burrowed under his T-shirt, and he took the kiss deeper. Nimble fingers found the button at the waistband of the fatigues he wore under his gear. She laughed when it gave way, a triumphant exhalation that consumed the precious oxygen in his lungs.
He shoved the protective gear down to his knees then plunged his hands into her hair, tipping her head back. Her throaty purr shot straight to his groin.
One hand braced on the table, he pressed his lips to the pulse below her ear and tried to slow the rasp of his breath, seeking refuge from the heat bubbling inside him. “Addi—”
“Don’t think,” she panted. Her palms ruffled the hair on his stomach as she bunched the thin cotton of his T-shirt under his arms. She raked her thumbnail over his nipple and he groaned long and loud. “Touch me. Want me. I just need you to want me. I want you to rescue me.”
“I want you.” His breathing grew ragged. “I want you so bad it hurts.”
“Do you?”
“Jesus, can’t you tell?”
He pressed his crotch to the slick fabric covering her pussy, pinning her to the table with the evidence. He ducked his head and buried his face in her neck, inhaling the fresh scent of soap and fruity shampoo. Drawing her earlobe into his mouth, he sucked lightly before letting his teeth sink into the tender flesh. Her hands ran wild over his back, stoking the fire smoldering inside him with each stroke.
Summoning his strength, he lifted his body from hers, stretching to his full height. Her lips were as red as ripe berries, swollen from his kisses. A pale pink burn from his beard stubble blushed the pearly skin of her throat. The faint imprint of tooth marks shadowed her delicate ear. His chest heaved as he stared into her eyes, trying to find the self-control to be chivalrous but all the while praying she wouldn’t want him to be.
She shook her head in answer to his unspoken question. “I don’t want to stop. Don’t stop.”
The rasp of his zipper sent a shudder down his spine. She dragged his underwear down with his pants and wrapped cool fingers around his stiff dick. She drew one knee up and he cradled the supple skin of her thigh, taking one last shot at sanity. “Bedroom?” he rasped.
Addi arched her back and tugged at the sash of her robe, letting the slick fabric fall open. “Here. Now.”
She was satin skin poured over pooled silk, hot and sweet and his for the taking. He yanked her to the edge of the table, leaving no room for doubt.
Her eyes flew open and he met her stunned gaze with a wicked smile. “Here. Now.”
He backed the words with action, pressing the head of his cock to her pussy and rocking against her. Splayed on the table, she stared up at him, her hair a bank of dark flames behind her head, and her pale skin shining with a fine layer of sweat. Her dusky nipples were furled tight. Her cunt was hot and slick with desire.
She stared up at him, her dark eyes fathomless and knowing. “Fuck me,” she whispered. “Fuck me so hard I’ll ache for days. I won’t break, I swear.”
“I know.”
He snagged a lock of cinnamon hair with his forefinger and dragged it from her damp lips before claiming them. She rose to meet him, her kiss sweet and tender. Her breath came in tiny puffs as he thrust into her, driving his dick into that hot, tight channel hard enough to move the table.
Addi cried out, her fingernails biting into his biceps as he withdrew, gathering steam for another assault. She stared up at him, her eyes wide and more than a little wild. “Again.”
He complied, surging into her with enough force to lose his balance. He stumbled, scooting the table another six inches and crushing her when he fell.
And she laughed.
The joyful sound grabbed his heart and squeezed hard. Her entire body shook, sending bolts of pleasure through his frayed nerve endings and setting his blood to simmer. She held on tight, wrapping her legs around his torso and tilting her hips up to meet him. Her lips grazed his neck and jaw before landing on his ear. “You okay?”
He couldn’t hold back a chuckle of his own. His shoulders slumped even as his dick strained inside her. “I’m so much better in bed,” he muttered. He peered down at her. “Next time, we’re doing this in a bed.”
Her eyebrows arched eloquently. “Next time?”
He met her probing stare with a blank expression. “You weren’t just thinking you’d use me for sex and carpentry, were you?”
She snorted. “You aren’t just sleeping with me to keep me from filing a complaint about the damage to my front door, are you?”
He grinned and shook his head. “No, ma’am. Of course
not.” His dick jerked inside her, and he smirked as she circled her hips in response to his call to action. “I’m sleeping with you because I used to dream about you.”
“You did?”
The breathy wonder in her tone spoke volumes. “I wanted you.” He drove his point home with a series of hard, hot thrusts. “Wanted to be inside you.” She moaned, throwing fuel on the fire his admission ignited. Her pussy clenched around him and he ground his teeth, trying to hold on long enough to get her there first. “I shoulda kicked your locker door in.”
Her breathless laugh morphed into a gasp. He shifted slightly, rising onto his toes and surging into her wet heat from above, stroking her clit as he plunged into her again and again. The air crackled, splintering all around them. The earth tilted off its axis as her muscles spasmed, milking the dregs of restraint from his body. She cried out and his blood roared in his ears as he shot off like a roman candle, driving into her sweet, tight pussy until he collapsed on top of her, gasping for air.
He slid back down to earth far faster than anticipated, twisting at the last second to cushion her fall. The cold tile floor knocked what little wind he had left from his lungs. He blinked at the shattered leg on the dinette table in astonishment. “Holy crap.”
Addi’s lashes fluttered as she craned her neck, following his gaze. He felt the laugh bubbling up inside her before it erupted. She gaped at him, her chest heaving with shock and exertion. “Are you trying to trash the whole place?”
“Holy crap,” he repeated, unable to restrain a chuckle. Wrapping his arms around her, he hugged her hard and shook his head. “You said you wouldn’t break, but I should have asked about the table.”
Her entire body trembled with laughter, sending a fresh round of aftershocks straight to his groin. Regret tinged his voice. “I have to go back to work, and I didn’t even get your door fixed.”
She snuggled into the crook of his neck. “I can handle it.”
He brushed her hair from her face and smiled at the ceiling. “Oh, I know you can, but tonight you’ll stay at my place.” She lifted her head to look at him, and he raised his eyebrows in unspoken challenge. “When I get home in the morning, we’ll do our best to break my bed. That way, we can call it even. Deal?”
Smokin' Hot Firemen Page 9