Slow Burn (Into The Fire Book 2)

by J. H. Croix

  My knees landed alongside his hips with my wet pussy sliding over his cock. I moaned into his mouth, so on fire inside I could barely breathe. I broke free from our kiss to gulp in air. I felt his hand slide into my hair, his thumb tracing my lips. Opening my eyes, I found his waiting—deep green and flashing with desire.

  “Morning,” he murmured, his voice gravelly with sleep.

  All it took was the sound of his voice to send a shiver up my spine. Looking into his eyes, my heart twisted in my chest and my breath caught. All this time, I’d chalked him up to a shallow playboy. Perhaps he was, but it didn’t feel that way when I was with him.

  Desire and intimacy curled around us like smoke. I couldn’t have looked away if I wanted to. I didn’t.

  “Good morning,” I whispered.

  It was early, or so the wispy light filtering in through my curtains and the skylight above told me. It felt as if we were the only people in the entire world awake just now.

  He traced my lips with his thumb. I caught it in my teeth and drew it in my mouth, feeling a surge of desire when his eyes darkened and he rocked his hips against me. His cock slid against my slick folds and clit, sending a sharp spike of pleasure through me. I leaned back, the need to feel him inside of me overriding everything.

  Reaching between us, I rose up and was a millisecond away from sinking down when his hands gripped my hips roughly. I whipped my head up to look at him.

  His gaze was fierce, searing me straight through to my heart.

  “Don’t rush this,” he said roughly.

  I swallowed against the sudden tightness in my throat and held still for a beat. The head of his cock kissed the entrance of my pussy—I ached to feel him fill me. On the heels of a breath, I adjusted my hips and slid slowly down, savoring the delicious stretch of him filling me to the hilt.

  I stilled once I was seated. “Was that slow enough?” I asked, my voice husked with need.

  His hands eased their grip on my hips and slid down to rest at the juncture of my thighs, his thumbs brushing softly across the hypersensitive skin there. I could hardly breathe—swamped in need with emotion coursing through me.

  I forced myself to hold still. I was caught between impulses. There was the raw physical need to seek relief by losing myself in this. Yet, there was also the need to stay with him in this, to listen. Not listening in the specific sense of responding to what he said, more listening on a visceral level.

  “It was,” he said, that gruff voice sending a ripple straight through me.

  He began to rock into me, easing my hips in time with his motion. We fell into a slow, sensuous rhythm. His eyes stayed locked to mine, and I couldn’t look away. Pleasure shot through me again and again and again with every rock of his hips into mine. Pressure tightened inside until I was chasing after the hot, sweet release I knew was coming. My breath came in messy pants and moans.

  His palm slid up my back in a slow pass, angling me forward, creating just enough pressure against my clit the next time he sank inside of me. I heard myself crying out his name as the pressure spun so tight it hurt and then unraveled with a snap, sending pleasure shooting through me.

  He went taut underneath me, a rough cry escaping. He caught me fast as I collapsed atop him. I lay still against him, gasping to catch my breath. I could feel his heart pounding against me, echoing the wild beat of mine. I slowly relaxed, sweet lassitude sliding through me.

  Chapter 23

  Beck

  Maisie was a tangle of softness and silky skin against me. Buried deep inside of her, I didn’t want to move. Ever. I sifted my fingers through her curls. She started to shift her weight off of me, but I held her tight.

  “Don’t move,” I murmured.

  She laughed softly. “You’re bossy this morning.”

  She lifted her head, her brown eyes glinting with mirth.

  “Am I?”

  She nodded, her messy curls bouncing. “Don’t rush, don’t move. What else shouldn’t I do?”

  Her comment reminded me I’d told her not to rush somewhere along the way of that hot little interlude we’d just experienced. My heart tightened for a beat, and I had to take a slow breath to gather myself. She had the craziest effect on me. I hadn’t wanted any of this to end too soon. Hell, if we could’ve somehow made these moments last forever, I would’ve.

  I didn’t know what to do with any of these feelings, so I shrugged and grinned. It was pretty much impossible not to smile when she was. “No more orders.”

  Her stomach growled. She promptly put her hand over it. “Oh my God. That was loud.”

  “How about you move now? We can shower, and I’ll make breakfast.”

  I couldn’t quite believe I’d just said that. But I had. I was pretty set in my ways with women. I rarely spent the night. If I did, I was up and gone before dawn. I didn’t plan on showers and lazy mornings with breakfast, but that’s all I wanted with Maisie.

  Her grin faded as she looked at me. After a moment when my heart started banging madly against my ribs again, she angled her head to the side.

  “You cook?”

  “I do. Quite well, actually.”

  Her wide grin made me want to hug her. Maisie was the one and only person in the world who elicited that urge in me. Just now, I made do with sliding my hand in a slow pass down her spine. My cock twitched. I could take her all over again right now, only minutes after spending myself inside of her.

  “My mom loved to cook, so she used to have me in the kitchen with her all the time when I was little. Turns out, that’s an easy way to learn to cook,” I added by way of explanation.

  “Oh,” Maisie said softly.

  I sensed something shifting under the waters of our conversation, but I didn’t know what it was. “My mom passed away a few years ago. I miss her like crazy, but I think of her whenever I cook.”

  My words just slipped out…and startled the hell out of me. I wasn’t prone to sharing like this with anyone. It was true I missed my mom. My dad was still around and had been at loose ends ever since she died. He’d pieced together a life that worked for him, but he missed her. I’d been lucky that way. I had two parents who’d loved me all through my childhood.

  Maisie held my gaze and nodded slowly. “I’m sorry she’s gone.”

  “Me too. But it’s life, right? I was lucky she was around as long as she was. She was diagnosed with breast cancer when I was little. Lucked out and kicked it to the curb, but it came back later.”

  Maisie seemed pensive, and I wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. Hell, I was enough off kilter with my own unexpectedly personal comments. She nodded again and shifted her weight, slowly rising off of me. I resisted the urge to hold her in place and followed her into the shower.

  In short order, we were downstairs. She started coffee, while I rummaged in her refrigerator to see what I could whip up for breakfast.

  “Mind if I use these eggs and some cheese?” I said, glancing over my shoulder.

  “Use whatever you want.”

  I quickly prepped omelets. She watched with a half grin and handed me a fresh cup of coffee somewhere along the way. It was the kind of morning I hadn’t had in years. Well, I’d never had a morning like this, not with a woman I supposed I was dating. Or something more. It was the kind of morning my parents had—relaxed and sharing space together. I’d lived alone ever since I’d moved out of my parents’ place. I was a fairly typical bachelor with the exception I ate pretty well for myself. It was more fun to cook for someone else though.

  Maisie was putting our empty plates in the dishwasher a while later when there was a loud knock at the door. She looked to me. “Are you expecting anyone?”

  “Me? It’s your house,” I replied with a chuckle.

  “Yeah, but no one comes to see me,” she said, looking perplexed.

  She stepped to the door and opened it. I was seated at the kitchen counter, finishing my cup of coffee, a rather delicious cup of coffee I might add. I had a direct view
of the door.

  She went still, so still I could see it from where I sat. Her spine stiffened, and I heard the sharp intake of her breath. A man stood there. He was tall and lanky with almost white hair. His face was weathered. I couldn’t say why, but I was instantly protective of Maisie.

  I set my coffee down just as she spoke.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone startled.

  “Maisie, girl! I’m here to see you, why else would I be here?”

  He pulled her into a hug, and I could see her tense up. The man I now knew to be her father spoke in a jovial manner. He stepped through the door, although she hadn’t invited him in.

  My mind rifled through the bits of information I knew of Maisie’s childhood from Carol. Carol had been the admin assistant at the station for many years. Her husband had passed away years before she did. I knew they’d had one daughter who’d moved away after falling in love with some guy who’d been hiking in Alaska one summer. I knew Carol had been devastated when her daughter died. I’d never heard a single negative word from her about Maisie’s father, yet I’d surmised he wasn’t too stable.

  I watched as he stepped into the kitchen and looked around. His gaze glanced off of me. Maisie closed the door behind him. She didn’t look at me. She stayed right where she was by the door, tension and a sense of weariness emanating from her. Her father took in the space—it was a lovely home. Carol had renovated the entire home only a few years before she passed away. Bright and airy, the space was inviting.

  Maisie’s father’s gaze rounded back to her. “Nice place you have here,” he said with a nod before promptly walking into the living room and plunking down on the couch.

  Beyond the curved kitchen counter was the living room. With windows extending up two stories to the ceiling, there was no need for any lighting during the day. Even at this early-ish hour in the morning, it was bright. There was a sectional couch at an angle in the center of the room, offering a view out the windows from one side and facing the flat-screen television mounted on the wall from the other. I’d actually helped Carol put that up after my mother asked me to help. Aside from the couch, there was a large, cushioned ottoman and a few tables scattered about the room.

  Maisie finally moved, walking past me, her eyes flicking to me briefly. Her gaze was stony and controlled, reminiscent of the look she used to have so often back when she first showed up at the station to fill in after her grandmother passed away. She stopped at the corner of the couch, resting a hand on her hip.

  “Dad, what are you doing here?” she asked, her tone low with only a hint of the frustration I sensed coming off of her in waves.

  Uncertain if she wanted my support, I stood and walked to her side. I didn’t know who her father was to her, but I knew without a doubt she was upset at his abrupt appearance.

  He glanced up from the couch. “Gonna introduce me to your boyfriend?” he asked, completely ignoring her actual question.

  “Dad, he’s…”

  I cut in, sliding my arm around her shoulders as I did. “I’m Beck. Beck Steele,” I said with a firm nod. “Mind answering Maisie’s question?”

  Her father, whose name I still didn’t know, eyed me for a beat. His white hair was unkempt and messy, his eyes a light gray. He looked a little worse for the wear, but gave off a sense of entitlement. “Hank Thomas,” he finally said with a nod. He looked from me to Maisie and shrugged. “Just thought I’d come up for a visit.”

  I could feel the tension thrumming in her body. I wanted to demand he leave and then do whatever was necessary to get her to relax again. I didn’t like seeing her like this. I slid my palm down her spine and back up. She relaxed into my side slightly, and I took a breath. I forced myself to stay quiet. I had so little information to piece together her reaction to him, and I didn’t want to overstep my bounds. I was fairly certain she’d been about to dispute her father’s description of me as her boyfriend, while I’d cemented his perception by cutting in like that. I didn’t give a damn. In fact, I was more than happy for him to see me that way. Hell, I was ready to announce it to the world. I just had to wait and make certain Maisie was on board with it.

  Her shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and I slid my palm in another pass along her spine. I didn’t know what she meant to say to her father, but I was here for her however she needed me to be.

  “Dad, since when do you visit? I moved out when I was eighteen and lived in California no more than a half hour away most of the time, and you hardly visited for seven years. When you did, it was because you needed money. You haven’t called in the entire two years since I moved up here. What are you doing here?” she repeated, her voice cracking at the end.

  My heart clenched at that little crack in her voice, revealing the fissure in her composure.

  If Hank picked up on how distressed she was, he didn’t let on. He merely shrugged. “What’s wrong with your good old dad coming for a visit?”

  Well, that comment went over well. Maisie’s spine went ramrod straight. I glanced sideways to see her nostrils flare and two bright pink spots appear high on her cheekbones.

  “Dad, you were never my good old dad. I don’t know what you want from me, but drop the song and dance. What do you need? Money?”

  I was taking little stabs in the dark to figure out the dynamics here, but so help me God, if her father was here to bully her into giving him money, hell no as far as I was concerned. I forced myself to stay quiet though. It wasn’t yet time for me to force myself any further into the situation than I already had.

  Hank’s eyes narrowed at her comment. He seemed remarkably unsurprised by it. “You just can’t believe I might want to visit. Damn, Maisie. After your mom died, I raised you all by myself. Give me some credit. I coulda sent you up here to stay with your Gram, but I tried to do right by you.”

  Okay, now I was furious. I might be short on the details, but one thing was becoming clear. Hank didn’t give much of a damn about Maisie.

  “Well, my life would’ve been a lot better if you had let me stay here,” Maisie retorted. “Now just drop the bullshit. What do you need?”

  “Alright fine. I wanted to visit for a few days, but it wouldn’t hurt if you could help me out with some bills,’ Hank said, his tone so not chastened, I wanted to punch him.

  “How the hell did you swing a plane ticket if you need money?” I demanded, forgetting I was trying to let Maisie handle this.

  “Got a deal from my girlfriend. She works in baggage claim at the airport,” he said with a shrug.

  If Maisie was upset with me jumping in, she didn’t say anything. In fact, she’d gone quiet. Her shoulders were so tense under my arm, I was worried.

  I glanced to her. Her features were tight and drawn, and she looked on the verge of tears. I wanted Hank the hell out of here and fast.

  I realized the manners my mother had drilled into me weren’t helping just now. I didn’t need to stand here in front of this asshole just because. He wasn’t a guest. I turned, and Maisie didn’t hesitate, allowing me to lead her away. I aimed straight for the bathroom, seeing as it was that, or walk all the way upstairs for some privacy.

  Once we were in there, I closed the door. Maisie leaned her back against the wall and buried her face in her hands. I waited, unsure what to do. After a moment, I heard her breath catch in a sob and finally gave into what I’d been wanting to do ever since her father showed up at the door. I pulled her into my arms and just held her. She tensed for a second and then relaxed against me, letting her hands fall from her face when she buried it against my chest.

  After several shuddering breaths while my heart clenched at the knowledge she was crying and so hurt by her father, she slipped her arms around my waist and gulped in air.

  “My dad’s a loser,” she mumbled against my chest. “I’m sorry he showed up like this.”

  I sifted my fingers through her hair, torn between a visceral ache at seeing her upset like this and anger with her fa
ther for putting her in this situation. “What are you apologizing for? He’s the one who showed up out of the blue. For the record, I couldn’t give a shit about your dad, or whether he’s a loser or not. I just don’t like seeing you like this. If you want me to throw him out for you, I will. Just tell me what you need.”

  She lifted her head, her wide brown eyes so unguarded, it was like a punch to my gut. “I don’t know. I’m used to dealing with everything myself. I mean, he’s my dad. I’ll just give him some money and he’ll go away.”

  I bit back the curses I wanted to rain down on his head. “Is that what you want to do?”

  She bit her lip, her mouth twisting and a sad look entering her eyes. “No, but it will make him go away. Look, he’s not a bad guy, he’s just a mess. He can’t be bothered for much of anything.”

  I had all kinds of things I wanted to say, most of them involving trashing her dad and escorting him out of her life because I hated seeing the pain and weariness he brought into her eyes. I beat back those words and took a breath.

  “Okay, if you don’t want to give him money, don’t give him money. If I pieced together a few things right, he’s hit you up before. Every time you say yes, it will set him up to come back next time he wants more. How about this? I’ll call in a favor from a buddy of mine in Anchorage. I can probably get him a night at the hotel there. I’ll buy him a one-way ticket back to wherever he came from. He doesn’t need to know anything about who takes care of his ticket.”

  Maisie stared at me, worrying her bottom lip. “I don’t know. I can’t ask you to do that. I mean, I have to deal with this. It’s not…”

  “You don’t have to deal with this alone.” My words came out fiercer than I intended.

  She was quiet and then suddenly her eyes glistened and a tear rolled down her cheek. Oh fuck. My heart clenched again. I brushed her tear away with my thumb.

  To say I was stumbling along through this was a massive understatement. I had no fucking clue what I was doing. My single goal was to make Maisie feel better. Now, she was crying, and I didn’t know quite why.