Wilde Heat

by Bella Andre

  Futility tore through Logan. "Shit. I should have been there."

  "None of this is your fault," Gary said. "None of it. Go home, Logan. Try to get some sleep."

  The signal went dead before Logan could pull rank. He wanted to be in Desolation Wilderness fighting the goddamned fire. But Gary was right about one thing--he couldn't let his men see him like this. It was his job to keep it together no matter what. His crew looked to him for strength and he wouldn't disappoint.

  He drove home on autopilot while Robbie's favorite Bruce Springsteen song played on the radio.

  Maya wasted a precious hour driving first to the hospital and then to the station. The nurse said she'd missed Logan by a matter of minutes and Gary hadn't said much of anything at all, just that he was glad she'd finally come to her senses and taken Logan off suspension. The fact that she'd felt like a fly buzzing around a swatter was irrelevant. All that mattered right now was finding Logan and making sure he didn't blame himself for Robbie's death.

  She breathed out a deep sigh of relief when she pulled into Logan's driveway and saw moonlight glinting off the bumper of a station truck.

  Her heart thumped hard in her chest as she climbed the same front steps he'd carried her up after the explosion that afternoon. Although they'd made love only a handful of hours ago, it seemed like a lifetime had passed since then.

  She knocked on his door, then rang the doorbell, but there was no reply. Taking the chance that it would be unlocked--she'd grown up in a house where no one had needed a key--she turned the knob, and the door swung open. She stepped inside, scanning the empty foyer for sign of Logan.

  He emerged silently. On the surface, he didn't look any different. The same dark shadow covered his jaw, and he stood with his usual self-confidence. But she'd been trained to look deeper than that and instantly noted grief in the tightness around his mouth, frustration in his eyes.

  "I heard about Robbie," she said softly. She wanted to reach out for him, wanted him to know she understood what he was going through. "I'm so sorry, Logan."

  His big, strong hands pulled her toward him and she was momentarily shocked by the enormous hard-on she felt against her belly, but only for a short moment. After all, hadn't she dealt with her loss in exactly the same way? Hadn't she used Logan's body to try to forget her sadness?

  She owed him this. And she would gladly give him a piece of herself if it would help deal with his loss in some small way.

  She pressed herself into him and rubbed her breasts against the wall of his chest, and a growled curse was on his lips as he captured her mouth in a hard kiss. Mindful of his cuts, she gently wrapped her arms around his wide back and opened her legs to bring him closer. His hands moved from her hips to her hair, then back again.

  Somewhere in the background, she heard fabric ripping, realizing he'd ripped her T-shirt off her body only when the ruined cotton fell to the floor. Her bra came off just as quickly, and then his mouth was on her skin, hot and insistent as he sucked her nipples in between his teeth, cupping her breasts so that he could lave them both at the same time.

  A moan sounded, maybe hers, maybe his. She arched into his mouth and pushed her hands into the back pockets of his jeans, his tight muscles jumping against her fingers. He barely took the time to undo her zipper before yanking her pants and underwear off, and when his fingers found her she was already wet and swollen, desperate for more. His cock came free from his jeans and boxers and he lifted her off the ground, forcing her thighs around his hips.

  Instinctively, she wrapped her legs around him and when he pushed into her, high and hard, she gasped with pleasure. His erection tightly sheathed within her, her elbows locked around his neck, she buried her head against his shoulder and rocked up and down on his shaft.

  She'd come to help him, but there was no denying her own release, or even to slow it down. Her muscles began to dance around him and when he pushed in deeper, she lost what was left of her control and tumbled into a stunningly powerful climax.

  Logan rode her steadily through her waves of pleasure, and it was only as she was coming down from her orgasm that he pulled out and came warm against her belly.

  She couldn't take in air fast enough as she clung to him, her skin damp with sweat and semen. She hadn't planned on this, couldn't have made a rational case for what had just happened between them, but deep within she knew it had been exactly right.

  Logan set her away from him, lines of remorse joining those of sorrow. "Jesus, Maya, I attacked you."

  Recrimination underlay every word.

  Ignoring her nakedness, she reached for his hand. "Six months ago I did the very same thing to you. It's all right. I understand exactly how you're feeling."

  His eyes briefly met hers, just long enough that she could tell he was still blaming himself for everything, including their quickie. Refusing to release his hands, she led him up the stairs and into his bathroom. She turned the shower on and stepped under the water, pulling him in with her.

  "Let's clean up," she said softly, "and then I want to share something with you. Something I hope will help."

  Exhaustion mingled with confusion on his heartstoppingly beautiful face. When, she wondered, was the last time he'd slept? She wanted to pull him against her and stroke his hair like he was a little boy, until he finally got some rest.

  She ran a bar of soap over his chest, trying to keep her attention on simply bathing, but it was difficult. Very difficult. She sucked her lower lip in between her teeth as she ran bubbles across his pecs and down his washboard stomach.

  He covered her hand with his own before she got any closer to his budding erection. "I can't control myself around you."

  She looked up at him and admitted the truth. "I know. I feel the same way."

  The bar of soap dropped to the tiled floor as his mouth came down on hers. But before she could kiss him back, he turned off the water and wrapped her in a towel.

  "I'm a monster tonight, Maya. I don't want to hurt you again."

  "You've never hurt me, Logan. Never." She walked over to his bed and sat down against a pillow, curling her ankles beneath her thighs. "Please, come and listen to what I have to say. And then if you want me to leave, I'll go."

  He looked at her for a long moment, just long enough for her to wonder if he was going to refuse her request. Finally, he wrapped a towel around his waist and moved to the bed.

  She clasped and unclasped her hands on her lap, staring at her reddening knuckles. She'd never talked to anyone about the night she'd lost her brother. Not her friends. Not her mother. Not even the therapist who'd tried repeatedly to get it out of her. It had been none of the woman's business. Now here she was, sitting on Logan's bed, wrapped in a towel, ready to talk.

  "I was sitting in the kitchen paying bills when I got the call. I still dream about it, about hearing 'Tony's dead' and dropping the phone. It broke on the tile floor, actually. Shattered into a hundred pieces. I remember feeling like I was that phone, like I'd never be whole again."

  It was the strangest thing, but as Logan held her, she wasn't fighting back tears. For once, she'd thought of Tony--actually talked about him--and wasn't going to cry. Maybe she was all cried out. Or maybe it was simply that being with Logan and sharing with him had sped up the healing process.

  Feeling much stronger than she had in a very long while, she leaned back against the headboard and stroked the top of his large hands lightly with her thumbs.

  "His landlord needed his place cleared out, but I just couldn't do it. Not without a drink to make me numb. Which is how I found you."

  He squeezed her hands. "I'm glad you did. I'm glad it was me."

  "Me too," she whispered, coming up on her knees in front of him to kiss him gently. "And I'm glad I can be here for you."

  "I'll be all right, Maya," he said, and she believed him. He was an incredibly strong man. But it was like he'd said once to her, even strong people needed help sometimes.

  "Ever since Tony died I
've been consumed by the fact that a murderer is walking around out there, just waiting for his next chance to kill somebody's brother, or sister, or best friend. Thank you for asking Patrick to look into Tony's case. You'll never know how much it means to me."

  "I want to help, Maya. Anything I can do, I'll do."

  She didn't want to get distracted by his kisses, by his touch, before she said what she'd come to say, but she couldn't resist pressing her lips to his to silently let him know how much his concern meant to her.

  Forcing herself to pull away from his heat, she took a deep breath and tried to put all of her feelings into words. "I don't want you to fall into the same trap I've been stuck in, living only for revenge."

  "Is that what you've been doing?"

  She closed her eyes, finally accepting the truth she'd tried to hide from for so long. "Yes, that's exactly what I've been doing."

  He dragged her body into his and as she rested her head against the hard wall of his chest, she almost forgot who was comforting whom.

  She didn't unwrap her arms from his warmth as she said, "What happened to Robbie isn't your fault, Logan."

  She felt him tense. "I wasn't there to save Robbie. Now he's dead."

  He tried to pull back, but she refused to let him go. Not when he needed her so desperately, as much as she had needed him six months ago.

  "You're one of the best men I've ever known. You lead your men with honesty and integrity. You've earned their trust. And mine. Forever." She looked at him and allowed her deeply buried feelings to shine through. "Let me love you, Logan. Let me help you heal."

  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.

  S
he 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.