by Bella Andre
CHAPTER NINETEEN
LOGAN CRADLED Maya on his lap, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her. He tucked her head under his chin and stroked her soft hair in long strokes as it fell over her shoulders and down her back.
“You don't have to do this, Maya.”
She shifted on his thighs and looked up at him. “I want to.”
She brushed his lower lip with the pad of her thumb and he bit back a groan as she bent over his torso and the tips of her hair swept across his skin. His abdominal muscles twitched and tightened in anticipation of her mouth. He barely felt the tip of her tongue at first as it slid into the deep ridges of his stomach.
He was already perilously close to the edge. His hands fisted at his sides as he reached deep for control. His abs had served him well for hoisting and twisting and carrying, never for foreplay.
The towel fell from her breasts and her soft, round flesh brushed against his cock. He wasn't even sure she knew what her beauty was doing to him. Maya wasn't just some fire groupie who wanted to bag another fireman. Instead, her emotions ran deep and pure.
It made him want her even more, and he wanted to drag her up his body and bury himself in her heat. But this lovemaking, with her at the helm, was meant to heal them both. Somehow, he'd find a way to keep his hands off her and let her continue her tongue's path down his body.
A moment later, she unhooked the towel from his waist, and as she peeled back the thick white cotton, cool air suddenly rushed across his cock a moment before Maya wrapped one hand around his shaft and went still.
He worked to find his voice, to give the impression that he wasn't about to explode in her hand. “You act like you've never seen it before.”
She sucked her lower lip under her front teeth. “I've only felt it,” she said, tightening her grip on his cock and slowly sliding her hand down. “This is the first time I've got to really look at you. You're beautiful, Logan. Absolutely perfect.”
She bent her head and dropped a kiss onto his engorged head, then licked away the answering drop of arousal.
He was this close to rolling her over flat on her back and taking her even harder and faster than he had by his front door. And then her mouth came down over him, sheathing him in warm, wet heat, and the only thing he could do was bury his hands in her hair and buck his hips up into her mouth. As her tongue swept up and down the length of him and she squeezed the base of his erection with one hand, his cock pulsed and thickened in her mouth.
He was all for letting her explore his body, but he wasn't going to come in her mouth. Not this time, at least. It was a torture to pull out from between her soft, slick lips.
And then, a moment later, she was lying on her back, her towel on the floor, her thighs spread open beneath him.
“I wasn't done,” she said.
He silenced her protest with a long, slow kiss. From his very first taste of her, she'd remained the benchmark by which he'd judged every other kiss.
He found the word “love” sitting on the tip of his tongue and it shocked the hell out of him. He levered up on his arms, nearly locking his elbows to create some space between them, to recover his grip on reality.
Her eyes filled with concern. “Logan? Are you all right?”
She reached for him, and he knew she thought he was pulling away because of Robbie. But while Robbie's loss would always haunt him, would hit him hard at times when he least expected it, like Sunday afternoon cleanup and grocery runs, right now he was thinking about Maya. And whether there was a chance in hell that she felt the same way he did.
Because even though she'd just shared so much with him, he knew she was still holding back, was still afraid to let herself love another firefighter.
She'd given him her body, but he was going to have to fight like hell to capture her heart.
He let her pull him back down over her, let her gently rain kisses over his face, his neck, before he turned his focus to her pleasure, to cupping a breast in each hand and lightly rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers before he settled his mouth over one stiff peak.
With every stroke of his tongue against her breasts, he concentrated on slipping his fingers between her wet, slick labia, slipping one, then two fingers into her, all while laving her nipples with his tongue, until she was writhing beneath him, silently begging him to take her again.
She reached for his shaft, but he knew he couldn't last much longer, so he dodged her hand and found a condom in his bedside table. He ripped open the package and was about to slide it on, when she held out her hand.
“I'd like to do the honors.”
He handed her the condom and held his breath as he watched her put the rubber on his thick head and slowly roll it down.
“It barely fits,” she whispered when it was halfway on. “You really do need the extra-large ones,” she said with a small smile.
He clenched his teeth, finding it impossible to joke around when her hands were on him and he was this close to losing it.
“You have five more seconds to get it on,” he warned.
“Or else?”
“Or else this,” he said, covering her hand with his own and sliding the condom the rest of the way before grasping her thighs in his hands and spreading her legs open wide for him.
The soft “Mmm” sound she made sent him over the edge and he thrust all the way inside.
Her hands clutched at his shoulders and even though he took her mouth as roughly as he did the rest of her, she was right there with him, driving him higher, wilder. He heard her gasp and call out his name and then everything went black as he spiraled into his own climax, his hips moving of their own will. Her inner muscles clenched and pulled around him, drawing out his orgasm.
He rolled them over so that she was nestled in the crook of his arm, and his lungs burned from exertion.
As he stroked her hair, he knew there was no point in thinking she was just an exceptional screw. She was all that and more. Much more.
He loved her.
He looked down at her face and saw that her eyes were closed, dark circles of exhaustion beneath them in sharp relief to her beautiful honey-tinged skin. She'd been through hell in the past couple of days. They both had.
Exhaustion pulled at Logan. With Maya safe in his arms, he gave in and slept.
Hours later, as night fell away and daylight returned, jealousy burned in the woods surrounding Logan's house.
She was there with him. Fucking him.
Goddamn it. Even after everything that had happened, they were still doing it like bunnies. Nothing was stopping them, not explosions or bombs or even deaths.
This time they'd finally pay.
And so would everyone they loved.
CHAPTER TWENTY
LOGAN FELT Maya stir, one of her thighs sliding against his. Sunlight streamed into the room and he was already rock hard, ready to take her again. He shifted their positions so that she was lying flat on the pillow and he was leaning on one elbow, looking down at her. Her eyelids fluttered as she awakened and he took a long moment to appreciate her high cheekbones, her lush mouth, the curve of her jaw, and her long, smooth neck.
She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen, the only one he wanted in his bed for the rest of his life.
Her eyes opened and she smiled at him, stretching her arm up to press her palm flat against his chest. “Hi.”
He smiled back, relishing her touch, loving that she was in his bed and not looking for an excuse to leave. “Did I wake you up?”
She rubbed her hip against his erection. “Something did.”
“I want you again, Maya. Badly.”
“Then take me. Now.”
Women had frequently praised him for his smooth moves, for his control. Their pleasure came first, no matter what. But he'd never been this tempted, this desperate.
“You make me lose control,” he said as he pushed her thighs open with his knees.
“Good.”
She
pulled his head down and kissed him just as she lifted her hips and took him inside her soft heat. He hadn't touched her in hours, but she was as ready for him as he was for her.
He kissed her hard, holding himself rigid and unmoving within her. More than anything, he wanted to thrust once, twice, three times, and come with her squeezing him tightly, no rubber barrier between them. But it was too soon. She wasn't ready to commit to a lifetime with him. Yet.
He forced himself to slide all the way out, even when the small sounds of disappointment coming from her throat clouded his thinking, and had a condom on in less than thirty seconds, rolling over so that she was straddling him. She smiled again, a seductive grin that made him even harder, and then her quadriceps tightened as she shifted into place above his shaft. Balancing her hands on his chest, she slowly lowered herself down onto him, one inch at a time.
It killed Logan not to thrust high and hard into her slick heat. Finally—Lord, it couldn't have been soon enough—she settled down onto his base, her soft, round butt cheeks pressing into the tendons across his hips. And then she was lifting herself nearly all the way, only to come crashing back down, over and over, harder, faster each time.
She threw her head back and arched her spine as she rode him, her breasts bouncing in rhythm to her thrusts. He slid one hand to her ass, the other to her tits, and stroked her, groaning his encouragement. He was unable to hold back his orgasm until she'd found her own pleasure.
Gripping Maya's hips hard with both hands, he held her hard against him as his shaft twitched and jumped within her tight canal. She ground her hips against his groin as she cried out his name, her inner muscles squeezing him.
She collapsed onto his chest and he wrapped his arms around her rib cage and waist. They were still catching their breath when he said, “I don't want there to be any secrets between us anymore, Maya. I want to tell you about the reasons I used to play with fire.” He hoped that if he opened up completely, she would too.
Maya shifted slightly to look at him. “I'm listening,” she said, her eyes soft, already filled with under standing.
“I was ten years old the first time I lit a fire.” He remembered that hot summer afternoon well, when a pile of leaves and a match became an epiphany. “My father was a difficult man to be around. A grade-A asshole, actually.”
“I can't imagine that. It must have been hard for you.”
“Harder for my mother. She cried a lot. I figured out pretty early on that sticking up for her only made things worse. I was hiding from them, kicking through piles of dry leaves, when I found a box of matches on the ground. I'm not going to lie to you. That first fire was awesome. Dangerous. I felt like a goddamned superhero.”
“Any boy would have.”
Her insight, the fact that she wasn't judging him for what he'd done, meant the world to him. “That first fire didn't last long. Thirty seconds, maybe a minute. But it was just enough smoke and flame to make me excited. And a little nervous.”
“What if your father had found out? What would he have done?”
Logan hadn't spoken to his father in over a decade, not since he'd convinced his mother to get the hell out. “Beaten me to within an inch of my life. But he didn't find out. And when I got away with it, I did it again.”
“Risk was the reward, wasn't it?”
Logan nodded. “Exactly. How long could I let them burn? How big could they get? It didn't take long for things to escalate. I hung out with the older kids in town, the ones who didn't give a shit what happened to them because their lives were already crap. They liked having a guy like me around who wasn't afraid to create diversions with fire. They stole stuff, then I lit fires in Dumpsters and garbage cans. Guess what got more attention?”
“I imagine store owners thought it was better to lose a couple of things off the shelves to pickpockets than watch their businesses go up in flames. How old were you when you finally got caught?”
“Barely seventeen. I was stunned. Couldn't believe it, even when I was in handcuffs. In my head, I was completely invincible.”
She gave him a crooked smile. “Some things don't change much, do they?”
He covered her hand with his own. “It might look like I take crazy risks, but I know damn well that I'm not invincible. My crew isn't invincible, either. I've relearned that lesson every single day on the mountain, every time I have to go to the hospital to visit one of my men.”
She brought his hand to her lips and pressed a kiss onto his knuckles. “That didn't come out right. I meant it as a compliment. I think you're incredibly brave. In fact, I think you're just plain incredible.”
He brushed his fingers against her lips. “Joseph taught me about bravery. He showed me that an arrogant seventeen-year-old kid was pretty much worthless unless he did something good for someone else. I owe him everything.”
“I know he feels the same way about you. I didn't talk to him for very long on Friday, but he couldn't stop talking about how great you are. How proud he is to know you.”
“He liked you, too. Quite a bit.”
She brushed aside his compliment. “He only met me once.”
“Doesn't mean you didn't make a hell of an impression.”
Maya grinned, obviously pleased by Joseph's assessment. “I liked him too. Does he have a girlfriend? A wife?”
“No. He always said his wife was the only woman he'd ever love. She passed away the year before I came to live with them.”
She frowned. “It must be hard for him to live alone. I don't know many older men who know how to keep up a house by themselves. They came of age in a different time.” She tightened her grip on his hand. “Has he seen a doctor?”
“I can't even get him to talk to me about it. There's no way he's going to walk into his doctor's office and tell them he's losing his mind.”
Maya covered his hands with her own. “My best friend's father went through this. I have some idea what kind of specialists Joseph needs to see, the questions that need to be asked. I'd like to help you, Logan. Joseph is a fine man. He deserves to live a long, healthy life.”
Logan placed his hands on either side of her face and simply held her. She covered his hands with her own. He was about to kiss her again, taste some more of her sweetness, when a flash of color outside the bedroom window caught his attention.
He jumped from the bed, his chest clenching with dread and foreboding. “Quick, get dressed.”
Maya obeyed his sudden order without a word, her movements efficient as she found one of his T-shirts and put it on, along with her jeans.
“There's a fire extinguisher on the wall next to the door in each bedroom. Grab them all, then wait at the top of the stairs for me.”
He took the stairs three at a time and what he saw out the windows on the main floor of his house confirmed his worst suspicions. Smoke was streaming in under the doors, and the redwood decks surrounding his house were completely engulfed in flames.
There was nothing wild about the fire surrounding his house. The blaze had been set deliberately to make sure they couldn't get out easily—if at all.
He ran back up the stairs and found Maya standing by a window, surrounded by fire extinguishers, her expression fierce.
“Your beautiful house,” she hissed in anger. “I'm going to make the arsonist pay for this.”
Most women would be worrying about saving their own lives right now. Not Maya. If he hadn't already figured out that he loved her, he'd have known it now as she faced the deadly danger utterly unafraid.
From what he could tell, the fire was moving fast around the base of the house and up the surrounding trees. They didn't have much time to get out. He cupped his hands and held them out. “We've got to go through the attic to the roof. Hop on and I'll hoist you up.”
Her natural athleticism showed as she easily pushed the cover off the ceiling and pulled herself up into his attic. He grabbed an axe from a closet then jumped and grabbed on to the edge of the two-by-four with his finger
tips, lifting his body up into the peaked, unfinished space.
“Move back,” he said, then swung the axe over his shoulder into the roof. He closed his eyes as shards of wood splattered. “Cover your face with your hands.”
Her voice was muffled as she said, “Anyone ever tell you you're kind of bossy? And that it's pretty hot?”
Rather than replying—but appreciating her good humor in a supremely shitty situation—he swung again at the wood, finally seeing a patch of blue sky. It didn't take many more hits to open up a big enough hole in the roof for them to squeeze through. He shoved a metal storage trunk under the opening.
“Time to go.”
She hurried over, and before he could warn her to be careful on the steep pitch of his roof, she was gone. He held on to the axe as he followed her out. She was walking along the slate tiles as if she'd been born balancing in precarious situations. Still, Logan held his breath until she made it to the more level section, over his kitchen.
From the roof, they could see the carnage all around them. Logan's barn and garage were heading the way of the house, as was his truck. Everywhere they looked, they saw fire.
They stood beside a skylight and weighed their options, which were getting slimmer by the second. Logan walked the perimeter of his roof, looking for an escape route. While he hunted for a way out, he talked to keep Maya calm.
“One time, Dennis dared me to jump off Joseph's roof.”
“Teenage boys are so stupid.”
She didn't sound worried about the fact that they were stuck on his roof, surrounded by a ring of deadly fire, even though he knew she had to be.
“Who broke what?”
He found himself grinning amidst the danger. “A finger for me. An arm for Dennis.”
She grabbed his arm. “I can't believe I forgot to tell you. I talked to Dennis.”
Shit, he'd wanted to get to Dennis first. “He can be a loose cannon,” he said, and when she nodded her agreement he asked, “What did he tell you?”