Hot for Fireman (18 page)

Not as a gorgeous dreamboat out of her league. But as a man with struggles of his own. Serious struggles.

Slowly, she got into the truck. Ryan already had the key in the ignition and a hand on the steering wheel. “I want you to know,” he said without looking at her, “that I’ve never hit a woman. I never would. Since the age of sixteen, I’ve never hit anyone when it wasn’t a fair fight. Maybe it looked like I was going to, but I wouldn’t have.”

She nodded. “I didn’t think you were going to.”

“You didn’t?”

“Of course not. I didn’t want you to hit
him.
”

“I wouldn’t have done that either.” He glanced at her sideways, with a kind of wonder. “I can’t believe you put yourself between me and my father. He’s bloodied grown men for doing that.”

She wasn’t sure what to say to that. The lost, pained look in his eyes made her want to wrap her arms around him. But he was still vibrating with tension, so she didn’t quite dare.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, looking away from her. “Sorry you saw that.” He turned the key in the ignition and backed out of Zeke’s front yard, which was little more than a bare patch of ground.

She wasn’t sorry. But she didn’t know quite how to tell him that. “It’s not your fault your father’s kind of . . . harsh.”

He hunched a shoulder. “Didn’t say it was. I always figured I took after my mother. But she left early on and I don’t remember her.”

Katie’s heart ached for him. Her own complaints about her family seemed so trivial suddenly.

In silence, they drove down the dirt road to the highway. When they’d reached the town limits, the tension in the truck finally seemed to ease. Katie glanced over at Ryan.

“You hungry?” she asked. “I could use some pancakes.”

“
Pancakes?
”

“Or waffles. I skipped breakfast. Now my blood sugar’s getting low. And there’s a good chance I’ll be crabby if it gets much lower.”

He slanted a funny kind of smile at her. “You want to eat pancakes with me? Even though . . .”

She frowned, puzzled. “Even though what?”

His eyes stayed on her, direct and bluer than the smoggy sky outside.

“Hey,” she warned him, indicating the road.

“Right. Hang on.” He spun the wheel to the side and the Chevy hurtled toward the shoulder. It stopped in a roostertail of gravel. Dusty greenish-brown fields spread out from either side of the highway. Cars whizzed past in a hypnotic whir. Katie looked into Ryan’s eyes, grave, blue, questioning. She had the sense she’d never really seen him before.

“I figured something out,” he said.

She made a question with her face, since her voice had decided to make itself scarce.

He leaned toward her, easing himself around the gearshift. “I figured out . . .”

She caught her breath at his nearness. Her eyes dropped to his strong throat. Mesmerized, she watched his Adam’s apple move.

“. . . that you do something to me. Something good. I like it.”

She made a little face. For some reason, that word “like” didn’t make her feel good. “We’re friends, after all. Kind of.”

“Maybe we are. But that’s not what I’m talking about.” He lifted her chin so she couldn’t avoid his look. “I think about you a lot, you know.”

Vibrations shot from her scalp to her toes. “You do?”

“Oh yeah. And I don’t mean in the what-crazy-thing-is-she-going-to-do-to-the-bar-now kind of way. I mean in the I-want-you way. The under-my-skin way.”

The movement of his lips, so close to hers, drove her crazy. His sweet breath drifted over her face. His eyes were so blue, so clear, so beckoning. If she didn’t do something soon, she’d die. But the first time they’d kissed, she’d thrown herself at him. This time she stayed still, letting him decide what to do.

He brushed his lips against hers.

She sighed. Her lips opened of their own accord. His tongue flicked them open further, lighting little sparks around the circle of her mouth. He took her lower lip between his teeth and nibbled.

Fire erupted in her veins. She tossed aside her determined stillness and pulled him toward her. He met her with equal force, gripping her with an intensity that shook her to the bone. His kiss, deep and long and burning, rattled her even more. He tasted so good, like heat and hope and sun. She melted against him. When he pulled away, she nearly whimpered.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have to make sure,” he said in a harsh whisper. “You still want me, after what you saw? Where I come from?”

Her eyes snapped open, in utter shock. “Is that a serious question?”

He didn’t answer, but he looked pretty serious, even though his hair stood up and his breathing came ragged.

She frowned at him in a scolding way. “I’m going to let it slide this one time. But if you ever imply, ever again, that I give a crap where you come from, I’ll have to go for my baseball bat, and you know how that—”

She couldn’t finish, because he crushed her against him in a grip of iron. It might have hurt, except it got her closer to him, which was all she wanted in this world. They dove together into another world-shattering kiss. Then she felt his warm hand on her breast.

“But . . . Logan . . .”

“What about her?” His hand stilled.

“Aren’t you and her, you know . . .”

“Never happened.” His hoarse voice sent a mass of shivers across her skin. “All I could think about was you. I think you cursed me worse than old Virgil with the Bachelor Curse.”

Her last scrap of inhibition fled into the ether. She pushed herself against his hand, wanting more of his touch. It felt even better than she’d fantasized all those nights. He ran his fingers across her collarbones and slid her spaghetti straps down her shoulders.

Oh my God, were they actually doing this? Katie’s head swam. It felt like a dream. But if it was a dream, would his muscular arms feel so solid under her hands? Would the ridges on his back make her feel so safe and yet so wild? Would the bulge in his pants harden under her fingers, so she felt drunk with possibility?

She moaned as he slid her top all the way down, baring her breasts. She knew how hard her nipples were, how they ached for him. He skimmed his palms across them. The thrill shot straight to her sex. She squirmed, trying to press against his crotch.

“Wait,” he panted. “We can’t do this here. Where can we go?”

“What’s wrong with here?” Her desire made her sound cranky. “What are you waiting for, a hotel to magically appear? A random phone booth?”

“Oh Katie.” He wrenched himself away, pulled up her top, and started the truck. “Hang on.” She held on to her seat, vibrating like a wind-up doll. A frantic rhythm pounded through her.

He drove on the shoulder until the first turnoff, a deserted-looking farm road. At the first grove of trees, he pulled over. White blossoms drifted through the air from the trees overhead. Cicadas murmured. He turned to her, eyes blue as heaven. “This okay?”

Chapter Eighteen

“P
erfect,” Katie breathed. She swung her legs up on the seat, ripped off her seat belt, and dove into his arms. For a long moment he simply held her, drinking in the scent of her hair, the soft, vibrant warmth of her body against his. He could have stayed that way for a long time, except an urgent beat drummed in his veins—the need to see more, feel more. He flicked the straps back off her shoulders and drew down her top.

He sucked in a deep breath at the sight of her beautifully small, high breasts. Her nipples had so much personality. They rose up to meet his touch with the same direct feistiness Katie had. He hadn’t gotten a good view the first time. Now he looked his fill while she sat, trembling.

He couldn’t keep his hands off her tender flesh another second. He cupped her breasts, their skin as soft as feathery down. Her nipples swelled to a dark rose color that drew his mouth as if she were sweet candy. He helped himself, drawing those pert points into his mouth, rolling them with his tongue until she moaned.

“Katie,” he whispered as he ran his palms across the pale flesh of her belly. The lower edge of her skirt rode up on her thighs, and the glimpse of skin made him see stars. “I want you. So bad, you have no idea.”

“Oh yes, I do,” she said in a fervent voice. “I want you just as bad. More.” She reached for his zipper. “It’s been on my mind, if you want to know.”

He laughed, a sound made ragged by the way her little hands took charge of the front of his jeans. When she’d gotten them down his thighs, he kicked them off the rest of the way. “Now we’ve got to get rid of that skirt that’s been driving me crazy.”

“Is that thing still on?”

“Yep, and it’s cramping my style.”

He put his hands on the small of her back and flipped her so she lay on her back on the seat. He braced himself over her, one leg on the seat, the other jammed in between the floorboards and the door. Her surprised gasp only lasted a second, then she put her hands to the back of her waist, raising her butt off the seat. This had the effect of pressing her pelvis against his arousal, which threatened to tear his boxers in two. He let out a heartfelt groan.

“You’re killing me, just so you know.”

“Don’t die yet. Hang on a little longer.” Her eyes danced as she smiled up at him and unzipped her skirt.

“With so much to live for, how could I not?”

She shimmied her skirt down her legs. He circled her hips with his hands and drank in the sight of her. Everything about her was exquisite, her glowing skin, her fine-boned build, her graceful curves. Even her underwear was perfect. Black cotton undies with a white imprint of a one-eyed pirate.

He snorted.

She glared at him. “Do you mind? This is not the right moment to make fun of me.”

“I was laughing at your pirate underwear,” he said indignantly. “Do you really think I would laugh at you? Even if you weren’t the sexiest thing in an eye patch I ever saw.”

Her mouth twitched. She pressed her lips together, as if determined not to laugh, then gave in to it, her eyes going all sparkly.

“For the record, I think you’re beautiful. I thought you were cute all along, then it grew and grew and now, well . . . Can we skip to the part where I make you come so hard you forget your name?”

Her cheeks went pink and she let out a raggedy sigh. “Oh, all right.” And she took his cock in her hands.

His body went rigid from sheer pleasure. With her eager hands on his shaft, he knew it wouldn’t take long for him to lose his grip.

He pulled down her panties. The sight of the black silk nestled at the juncture of her thighs was like a shot of tequila to his senses. He wanted to lick the fresh pink lips that peeked through. Maybe another time, when they could roll around on an actual bed.

And there would be another time. There better be another time. Because one encounter in the front seat of a truck on the side of the road wasn’t nearly enough for all the things he wanted to do to her.

Instead he touched her gently, reverently. A spasm went through her body. Wet and silky, she must be as close as he was. He fingered the tiny bundle of flesh that made her body vibrate and her breath come in pants.

“Oh Ryan, oh my God, oh please . . .”

“Katie, begging. That’s what I want to hear,” he growled, then bent his lips to her nipples and licked them until her moans grew to panting gasps. Her dark eyes, cloudy with passion, pleaded with him.

“Hang on,” he choked, and pushed the latch on his glove compartment. It fell open, nearly bonking her on the head. “Sorry.”

“I’m fine. Doesn’t hurt. Just hurry.”

“I am, I am.” He scrabbled for a condom. When he found one, he yanked his boxers down so his raging erection sprang free. Katie touched it with hot hands. He thought he might die from pleasure before he ever got the condom on. He tore open the package in record time. She pulled her hands away to let him sheath himself.

“Ready?” His chest felt so tight, he thought it might burst. And a pounding pressure at the base of his spine said,
Now, now, now.

She nodded. It looked like she held her breath. He felt her wetness with one hand—so sweet—and guided his cock to the heat that called to him. Her gaze clung to his, her dark eyes gone dreamy with desire. He paused a moment, soaking in every detail of this moment. Her head thrown back on the seat cover, cinnamon hair mussed against the blue cloth. Her graceful torso arched up to meet him, a sweet white stretch of flesh punctuated by two wild cherry nipples. She looked so free, so immersed in her pleasure.

“You’re wonderful,” he said, awe tinting his voice.

“Please,” she begged.

Slowly, inch by inch, he sheathed himself in her wet silkiness. Her body drew him in with a hot, welcoming embrace. His vision went wonky. He took a deep breath, fighting for control. Her inner walls clutched at him.

Holy fuck, he was about to come just from entering her. Quickly he drew out again, then couldn’t stand the feeling of being outside her body, and thrust forward again.

“Aahhhh!” A cry of joy burst from her lips. He thrust again, unable to stop himself, unable to slow down the hurtling train of his need. She wrapped her legs around him and lifted her hips to meet his grinding cock. He loved the feeling of her soft flesh all around him, the silky skin of her thighs gripping him tight, the velvet of her channel pulling at him.

Making love to Katie felt like every thrill rolled into one. Like riding a roller coaster. Like holding a lightning bolt in his arms. Like catching a firefly and watching it glow in your hands. Like diving into the heart of a fire.

Wild spasms shook her body. With fierce satisfaction, he heard her cries of completion. And then all conscious thought dissolved into a primal dance, more, more, more, until everything shimmered and his release exploded the world into a million dancing stars.

After, it took some time to gather the strength to lift his body off her. “Holy Mother of God,” he muttered. He craned his neck to look at her. Her eyes were closed. The crescents of her eyelashes and her straight black eyebrows looked like calligraphy against her flushed skin. She was beautiful.

A sweet hazy feeling filtered through his body. He’d never felt so complete after sex before. It felt right, bone-deep right, to be close to Katie like this, even though it wasn’t the most comfortable place to cuddle. Bracing himself over her, he heard her quick little breaths and knew her heart was still racing, just the way his was. A breeze from the open window fanned her hair, damp against her forehead. They’d come together like two firecrackers, fast and spectacular. What would it be like if they could stretch out and take their time?

He ran a thumb tenderly across her cheekbone.

Her eyes shot open. “I have to tell you something. I just have to. I wasn’t going to, but now I have to.”

He went rigid. He hated when women said things like that. It always meant trouble. They’d never had That Conversation. And now they’d slept together. Sex changed everything. She’d probably start talking about their relationship, and where things stood, and . . .

She took a long breath. “You know that man? The one you asked your dad about?”

He went dead still. “Yeah?”

“He’s supposed to be torching the bar today.”

T
he pickup raced down the highway at ninety miles an hour. Katie held on tight to her seat belt.

“Hand me my cell phone,” barked Ryan. “Or yours. I think mine fell out while we were screwing.”

She winced at that phrasing. And at the memory of what had just happened. Sex with Ryan had reordered her entire world. And now she didn’t even have time to sort it out.

She dug out her cell phone and handed it to him. He punched in a number with one hand.

“Brody. You mind checking out the Hair of the Dog? Someone might be trying to burn it down. Yes, might be. I know how it sounds. I’ll explain when I get there. I’m twenty minutes out. Thanks, Cap.”

He tossed her the phone. He looked completely furious. And she supposed she couldn’t blame him, even though it was her bar. Her business.

“He said he’d do it safely,” she ventured. “He’s a professional.”

“Don’t talk to me right now.”

“Okay.” She bit her lip, cursing the impulse that had made her tell him. But after the intimacy of their lovemaking, so many confused feelings had burst through her. The secret that had been eating at her all day had come spilling out.

At least it wasn’t the other secret, the deeper, more disastrous one. She could handle the bar burning down. She couldn’t handle Ryan knowing how completely, thoroughly in love with him she was.

Especially now that he must detest her.

“If you could only understand . . .”

He held up a hand to stop her. “Not now. I have to drive. Don’t upset me.”

Amazingly, not a single police cruiser pulled them over before they reached town. Ryan whizzed through traffic as if the other cars were computer-generated images in a video game. As they closed in on the bar, Katie listened for sirens, but didn’t hear any.

“It’s okay! He hasn’t done it yet.”

Ryan ignored her. And then the Hair of the Dog came into view. Smoke poured from the back door.

Thick, dark smoke, with flames darting through it.

The truck hadn’t even come to a complete stop when Ryan dashed out the driver’s side door.

“Call 911,” he yelled to Katie.

“On their way.” A deep male voice called from the back of the bar. Ryan ran to the back, Katie following after him.

A dark-haired, commanding sort of man, who must be the famous Captain Brody, stood calmly near the fire, as if it were a campfire and he was roasting marshmallows. But instead of a long stick he held a hose. Katie recognized it as the garden hose they used to wash out the garbage cans.

Ryan ran to stand next to him. “Need a break, Brody?”

“Sure. I’ll go look out for the guys.” He handed the hose to Ryan, who held it with casual confidence. An air of complete alertness came over him.

So this was how a wunderkind fireman did his thing.

“For this little thing? Looked a lot worse from the road.”

“I got here just in time. You get some kind of psychic message about it?”

Ryan looked grim. “Not exactly.”

Captain Brody’s dark gray eyes flicked to Katie, who knew she had guilt written all over her face.

“Sounds like an interesting story.”

Katie’s stomach clenched. Captain Brody was a fire chief. He wouldn’t be too crazy about people setting fires on purpose. If he knew the truth, would he report her to the police? Or, maybe worse, to the insurance company?

She held her breath. Would Ryan tell him? Why wouldn’t he? He idolized his captain, and he wasn’t too fond of arson.

“I had a hunch,” said Ryan, the muscles in his jaw tensing. “You know how I am about fires. Besides, we’ve had a couple scares lately.”

Captain Brody’s penetrating look felt like a thousand-pound weight on Katie’s soul. She pulled her glance away, back to the flames. Ryan was definitely getting the upper hand. She saw less orange and more smoke. The fire made a hissing sound that made her think of the Wicked Witch of the West melting. “I think the fire’s going out. You got it!”

A bright spark leaped from the fire, flew through the air, and landed on Ryan’s left leg.

“Son of a bitch!” He swatted at his jeans. Katie saw a black hole appear in the fabric.

“Oh my God! Do something! He’s hurt!” She wheeled on Captain Brody, who didn’t move a single muscle other than what it took to raise an eyebrow.

“You might be right, but I’m not worried about the fire,” he said cryptically. He cocked his head, and in the next instant Katie heard sirens. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ryan, are you okay?” Katie stepped as close to him as she could, until heat fanned against her face. A blast of smoke made her eyes water. “Want me to hold the hose while you see if you got burned?”

“Good God, woman! Stay back, would you?” He shoved her behind him. A stream of blistering curse words made her wince. “You think this is a game?”

“Of course I don’t!”

“I ought to turn you in, Katie. Swear to God I ought to. Maybe you’d learn that way. This is not cool. Not cool. And my leg stings like a mother . . .” He trailed off, glowering at the fire.

She took a step back, then another, until she was far enough away so Ryan wouldn’t notice the tears that sprang to her eyes, stubborn tears that had nothing to do with the smoke.

Disaster. That sweet moment they’d shared, that wild sexual madness—torched right along with the Hair of the Dog.