Feisty Firefighters Bundle

by Jill Shalvis; Alison Roberts

  He didn’t turn on the light, but she made out his silhouette as he tugged off his shirt and let it fall. His shoulders slumped as he stood there in the middle of the room, still and silent.

  “Dax?”

  “I’m fine,” he said, emotionlessly. “You don’t have to stay.”

  The only light in the room came from the pale moon shining through the window, so she couldn’t see his expression. She didn’t have to in order to know he felt empty to the core. “You want me to go?”

  A harsh laugh escaped him. “No. But I know you’re still afraid of all this, and I’m just vulnerable enough tonight to beg.”

  “I can’t help the fear, Dax,” she said carefully. “It’s all a part of it for me. But I can tell you what I feel for you is different than anything I’ve ever felt before.”

  She felt his surprise.

  She closed her eyes for a moment and pressed her fingertips to them while she drew in a deep breath. “I won’t deny what’s between us, but I feel like I’m on an emotional roller coaster.”

  “I understand that you like to keep your emotions in check. Hell, you’ve had to in order to survive, but Amber…” He lifted his broad shoulders helplessly. “I can’t do the same.”

  In the dark his silhouette seemed larger than life, more vital, more full of passion and hope than she could ever be, and never had she felt the lack in herself so much as she did in that moment. “I know,” she whispered.

  “I won’t ever hurt you,” he said quietly. “I’ve told you that. But I can’t temper myself, hide my emotions. No matter how much I want you, I can’t change. Not even for you.”

  He was close enough now that she could see him more clearly. The contours of his bare chest were delineated by the faint moon’s glow. He was powerful, and he was beautiful.

  And he could be hers.

  All she had to do was believe it.

  He turned away and sank down onto his huge bed. With a little groan, he flopped on his back and covered his face with one arm.

  Exhaustion had clearly claimed him.

  Was it too late to tell him? Could she find both the courage and the words? “Dax?”

  He let out an answering grunt, but didn’t budge.

  She moved close, until her knees bumped the mattress. She lifted one to the bed and bent over him, gently setting a hand on his bare chest.

  At the unexpected heat of him, she nearly pulled back, but the sensation of skin to skin felt so good, she set her other hand on him as well. Then closed her eyes to savor it.

  Suddenly his hands came up, tugged her down. Gasping in surprise, she fell over him.

  “If you’re going to lean over me, staring as I sleep,” he muttered, “then at least get down here and keep me company while you’re doing it.”

  Those were the last words he spoke. He drew her close, tucked himself around her, then immediately fell into a deep, exhausted slumber.

  He was warm and safe and strong. There was no way to resist snuggling in even closer.

  Then she, too, fell asleep.

  SHE DREAMED they made love…she could feel him, all of him, skin to skin, burning her, healing her, making her body hum.

  She dreamed of his hands skimming over her body, shedding her clothes. The picture was so vivid she could feel the calluses on his fingertips when he touched her bare flesh with such terrifying tenderness it made her weep and press closer.

  She dreamed she touched him, too, and under her hands the muscles of his big, tough body quivered. In his eyes she saw need and ecstasy and anguish and oh…

  This was no dream.

  “You’re awake.” Indecision and sweet resignation swam in his eyes.

  They’d already established she wasn’t a morning person, nothing had changed. Then she realized it wasn’t morning yet. She blinked in confusion because she was wrapped around him like a blanket.

  “I woke up like this,” he murmured. “We must have gravitated toward each other in our dreams.”

  He expected her to walk away. She could hear it in his voice. He thought she’d made a decision about him, about her life, and that decision didn’t involve him.

  He thought wrong.

  “Touch me, Dax.”

  The strain on his face nearly broke her heart. “I am.”

  “More.”

  “It won’t change anything,” he said tightly. “We’ll still be fundamentally at odds, wanting different things, and—”

  She shifted closer to that intriguing, throbbing heat pressing between her legs. “Mmm.” She grabbed his hands from her hips and slid them over her body. To her waist, her ribs, her breasts.

  “Amber.” He groaned. “You feel incredible, but—”

  “You talk too much.” She kissed him softly, then not so softly, drawing him in deeper, and he let out a tortured sigh, deepening the kiss himself. As if he could read her mind, her dream, her need, he caressed her, worshipped her body and set her senses on fire.

  “My clothes,” she managed as his mouth dipped and nipped over her collarbone, trailing to a breast. His tongue circled her bare nipple, and she arched closer. “Where did my clothes go?” She moaned when his hot, pulsing erection nudged at her wet center. “Where did yours go?”

  “We must have shed them in the night.”

  He rose above her, swirling that inventive, greedy tongue over her other breast, teasing the nipple until she nearly cried.

  When she tried to lift up her legs and draw him inside her, he evaded her, slipping down her body. She felt his warm breath high on the inside of her thigh. Equal parts thrill and fear coursed through her. “Um…Dax?”

  “Shh. You talk too much.” His tongue swirled over her. Then his teeth, and when he sucked her into his mouth, he made her wild, frantic. Shameless. And as the orgasm tore through her, he took her to heights she’d never even imagined.

  Unbelievably, he would have rolled away then, but she managed to open her eyes and saw his vulnerability, and understood he appreciated hers.

  He wouldn’t take advantage of her.

  She felt the resolute, unmistakable connection of their hearts and souls, and knew he never could. She reversed their positions, holding him in place as she slowly and torturously experimented on his body with her mouth.

  When he tossed back his head, his face tight in a mask of agonized pleasure, she lifted her mouth off of him and licked her lips.

  He moaned.

  “Am I doing all right?” she whispered.

  “You’re doing better than all right,” he managed in a strangled voice. “And if you stop now, there’s every chance I’m going to die on the spot.”

  Empowered, she gave him a wicked grin before resuming.

  In less than two minutes, she had him clawing at the sheets, shaking, begging for release. The thrill of that was such a rush she nearly came from just watching him.

  “Love me,” she whispered.

  “I do.” His eyes squeezed shut, hiding himself from her. “Amber—”

  “Condom?”

  She saw him hesitate, and desperate for the feel of him thick and throbbing inside her, she reared up and opened his nightstand herself.

  He made a rough sound, reached past her and grabbed a foil packet. With a new boldness, she took it and attempted to put the thing on, but it wasn’t nearly as easy as it seemed it should be. “It’s not big enough,” she said, surprised when he let out a groaning laugh.

  “Amber, stop. This isn’t—”

  Before he could deny her, she drew his face down to hers, arching her hips as she kissed him, forcing his decision.

  A low groan came from deep in his throat, and he barely managed to get the condom on before he thrust into her, hard and deep. “I’m sorry.” His voice was as rough and ragged as his breathing. But he held her hips and thrust again.

  She wanted to tell him not to be sorry, that this was what she wanted, but all she could do was cry out with the pleasure of him inside her. She tossed back her head and gave him
everything she had, and as she did, her heart opened, rejoiced, and in return, received.

  When it was over, when she lay limp and exhausted in his arms, their bodies still connected and pulsing with the passion and love they’d shared, she smiled for the first time in too long as she drifted back off into sleep.

  DAX HELD Amber in his arms long afterward, listening to her soft, deep breathing, watching her relaxed face. Though he relished the sight of her sprawled against him, though he soaked in each and every lush curve and all the feminine roundness that so turned him on, he almost wished she’d put on some clothes, because even the feel of her creamy, soft skin against his made him want her again.

  He had the feeling he would always want her.

  The yearning for her spread within him and he pulled her even closer, needing to take what he could before she woke all the way up this time, and remembered she wasn’t ready.

  It took every bit of restraint he had to keep from kissing her awake, to keep from trying to convince her that what they shared was so incredibly right.

  How could she not know?

  Or maybe that was it. She did know, and the reality was too frightening.

  Her body certainly hadn’t had any such reservations. She’d given all of herself, holding nothing back. The way she’d held him, stroked him, the way she’d looked at him, had spoken clearly of her heart’s desires.

  His own heart raced in remembered response.

  He’d never, in all his thirty-two years, been touched the way she’d touched him. She wasn’t experienced, no one with that much wonder and awe in her eyes at the simplest of his kisses could be experienced, but she had a surprisingly sensuous, earthy streak and was such a quick study that he got hard just remembering.

  He enjoyed everything about her; the easy intelligence in her eyes, her sweet, warm laughter, the wonderful way she mothered Taylor.

  Leaving her would be the hardest thing he’d ever had to do, but there was no choice. He was in love with her. Hopelessly, irrevocably in love. It was his first time, but he knew himself, knew that he’d do everything in his power to insure this went his way. He would seduce, cajole and convince her—whatever it took—that they belonged together.

  He would probably eventually succeed.

  But it would be no good unless Amber decided for herself that they belonged together. No good because he’d never know if it was the path she would have chosen for herself.

  In her sleep, she frowned and whimpered, and the sound went through him like a knife. “Shh,” he whispered, soothing her with his hands and voice. “I’ve got you.”

  Immediately she stilled. The frown faded. So did much of her tension. Her soft, warm breath tickled the skin of his neck. Her feet were snuggled against his, soaking up their warmth and her hands rested trustingly against his chest. Even their hearts beat in unison, he could feel the rhythm echoing through him.

  He missed her already, and though he needed to get some sleep, he didn’t want to close his eyes, didn’t want to miss a minute of this.

  God, it hurt, the letting go, but in the end, he could do little else.

  AMBER AWOKE to the sound of Taylor’s cooing in the next room. It was a happy sound and she smiled.

  Until she realized she was in Dax’s warm, welcoming bed. Alone. She stretched, looking for him, and at the sight of a note on his pillow, her heart stopped.

  Dear Amber,

  I had to get back to work.

  I’ll be busy for several days, maybe more, before I can get another day off. Please, if you can, let my parents have my days with Taylor. They love her and will take care of her.

  You can trust them, Amber.

  Love, Dax

  You can trust them. He apparently thought she didn’t know that, and had to be told.

  Her own fault, she admitted, closing her eyes. She’d done a good job of letting him think that she was incapable of trust, period.

  With a soft groan, she lay back and listened to Taylor’s joyous babbling. It should have felt right to wake up in his bed, it would have felt right, if he’d been there.

  She’d let him think what they shared was purely physical, let him assume the problems between them were insurmountable. She’d hurt him, and that knowledge was an anguish she’d have to face.

  And somehow fix.

  14

  SHE WAS A COWARD. Not an easy admission, but Amber wouldn’t shy away from the truth.

  Somewhere along the road, she’d accepted that Dax really did love her. It was a miracle, and it still made her marvel, but she accepted it.

  She also accepted that she felt the same.

  But she hadn’t told him, and that was inexcusable. The words had fairly screamed from her heart last night and she’d kept them to herself. Selfish and afraid, she’d held them near and dear, where they could do little good.

  He deserved to know.

  It wasn’t exactly complimentary that it had taken her so long to really get it, but she could face that, too. She’d been hiding. She’d kept herself from living her life to its fullest because she was afraid.

  That was going to change.

  Last night had been a turning point for her, and if she was being honest, she also had to admit her transformation hadn’t started last night. It had begun a year before in a dark, dirty basement where she’d faced her mortality.

  She’d changed.

  She’d learned love didn’t have to hurt, that she could indeed trust someone other than herself. Dax needed to know that, too, and he needed to be thanked for teaching her that lesson, but before she could even begin to do that, she had to make him understand how much he meant to her.

  But he wasn’t home, and if he was at work, he wasn’t returning her calls. It might have taken her too long, but she’d found the depth of her true feelings for him and she wouldn’t give up. She could do this, she could fight for what she wanted.

  And what she wanted was Dax McCall in her life, in her home, in her heart.

  Forever.

  SINCE DAX had made himself so thoroughly scarce and unavailable, Amber was forced to start with something else. Something she’d been wanting to do for awhile.

  It required only a trip to the county recorder’s office.

  She gave Taylor Dax’s last name.

  They both deserved that, father and daughter, and she wanted Taylor to be a McCall. She thought Dax wanted that, too, and doing it felt right, very right.

  There was something else she wanted to do, and while she waited to talk to Dax, she went for that as well. It was tough, and meant swallowing a lot of pride, but it was for Taylor.

  Her father answered the phone in his usual gruff, booming voice, and when he heard Amber, he became all the more gruff. “What do you want?”

  As she had all of her life, Amber went on the defensive, and strove to cover that with icy coolness. “You told Dax you wanted to see your granddaughter. Was that true?”

  “Yes.” He cleared his throat, a sign of unease. But her father was never uneasy.

  Could he be as nervous as she?

  There was a time in Amber’s life when she would have been agonizing over this, wishing he would show just the slightest interest, give her one little word of encouragement.

  Suddenly—or maybe not so suddenly at all—it didn’t matter. She ached for his presence in her life, solely for Taylor’s sake now.

  Yes, she still wanted a father who approved of her and what she’d done with her life. But she’d learned she was fine without that approval. Better than fine. “Have you changed your mind?”

  “Actually, it was more than that.”

  “I don’t understand,” she said slowly.

  His voice was harsh. Gruff as ever. Irritated. “Can’t a man see his only daughter, as well?”

  “Me?”

  “You hard of hearing, Amber?”

  There was no softening in his tough attitude. There came no words of apology or any request for forgiveness. She understood she’d ne
ver get that, but it didn’t stop her sudden smile. “No, of course not.” Amazement gave way to a tentative peace. “You can see us whenever it suits you.”

  “Well, it suits me.”

  It suited her, too, and after he’d hung up, Amber reflected on her life, where it was going, and she smiled again.

  DAX KNEELED in the destruction and ash of the burned-out apartment building, taking notes. His investigation was in full swing.

  But he was no closer to finding the arsonist now then he had been four days ago. Swearing to himself, he stared down at his pad, but he couldn’t see a single word. He’d worked himself to near exhaustion.

  He’d had to.

  The arsonist, whoever he was, was now wanted for more than starting the fire. He would have to be accountable for all the destruction he’d caused, and for the waste of human life.

  Murder.

  Finding him or her would depend on Dax and how good his investigation was. But damn, it was hard to keep his head straight when his heart hurt. He truly hadn’t expected to fall in love, it just hadn’t been part of his grand plan. But it was done, there was nothing he could do about it, except go on with his life.

  He’d been at work so long his eyes were grainy. The fierce pounding in his head was probably due to lack of food; he couldn’t remember when he’d last had a meal. But if he slowed down enough to eat, then his brain would kick in again and he’d be back to ground zero, mooning pathetically over a woman he couldn’t have and missing the daughter he wanted to hug with all his heart.

  Disgusted with himself, he lurched to his feet. He was doing no good here. He drove to his office, where he intended to read and reread all the reports until he could figure out what he was missing. Then he’d go to his mom’s and hold his daughter for awhile.

  His office looked like a disaster zone, which was defeating. The desk was piled high with files and other reports, many of which had fallen to the floor, next to a bag of diapers.

  For the first time in his career, he stood at the doorway, thinking about the job he loved with all his heart and felt…overwhelmed.

  And hungry, damn hungry.