Hot to Touch (Kimani Romance) (8 page)

He ran a glance over her plush, red lips.

“God…please tell me you’re ready…”

“Yes,” she moaned.

With a groan, Shane placed an arm around her slim waist, anchoring her to his body tighter. He wrapped his other arm around her neck, holding her steady as he pumped inside of her.

One, two, three more deep-seated strokes and he exploded. Rocking into her a final time, they both gave in to the mind-blowing release.

E
mma’s head lay on Shane’s chest, her petite body spooned against his much larger one. One big leg lay crosswise over both of hers, effectively securing her within his embrace.

The early morning light peeked through the slits of her blinds, allowing the dawn to filter into the room as Emma pried her eyes open.

Arching her back, she winced, biting the corner of her mouth.

She couldn’t believe what she’d experienced with Shane last night. She glanced down at him.

His face was turned away from hers as his head rested on the pillow. In profile, she could make out the shadow of his overnight beard.

She turned away from him, glancing down at her
body. Easing a hand between them, she brushed her fingers over the skin of her inner thighs. A hot blush blossomed on her cheeks instantly as she remembered the feel of his stubble against the sensitive skin on her inner thigh as he’d made love to her in the most intimate way, more than once during their marathon lovemaking session.

She glanced at the small alarm clock on her dresser, surprised when she realized how late it was. It was nearly six-thirty, an hour past the time she normally rose.

Realizing it was Saturday, she relaxed and settled back against him.

“I wasn’t too much for you, was I?”

Startled, Emma glanced away from the clock and down at the man whose body was wrapped intimately around hers.

“Hey…I didn’t know you were awake,” she replied, her voice hoarse. Again, she felt her cheeks flush. The state of her voice was due to the cries he’d wrung from her throughout the long night.

She willingly allowed him to pull her back, her bottom nestled firmly against his groin. She drew in a surprised breath, feeling his shaft, laying thick, erect and long against her backside.

“No,” she whispered, answering his question. “It wasn’t too much,” she finished simply. She laughed at her understatement. The way he’d made love to her, the way he’d made her feel as he’d catered to every inch of her body, sent a curl of remembered deliciousness racing through her body.

“No one has ever made me feel like that before. So alive. So beautiful. So wanted. So needed.” She boldly made the admission, holding her breath waiting for his reaction.

She felt the tension ease from his body.

He laughed low, a sexy rumble against the back of her neck that sent a sizzle of heat directly to the core of her. She moved her legs when his big fingers trailed down her stomach and cupped her mound.

“Good,” he murmured. “Because I feel the same way.”

Her body arched away from his talented fingers before she placed a steady hand over his. “But I think I need to take a long, hot herbal bath…alone, before round two.”

“Round two?”

She blushed again, remembering how many times throughout the long night and early morning hours they’d made love.

There was contented silence between them. Emma, beyond exhausted, stifled a yawn as she felt her eyelids drooping. Seconds before she was about to give in to her exhaustion and doze off again, he spoke.

“It seems like I’ve been taking care of myself my whole life.”

The switch in topic brought her to full wakefulness.

Although it was a part of her job as a journalist, as well as in her very nature to be curious, she was intensely private about her own life. She recognized that same trait in Shane. That he was, once again, candidly
sharing a part of his past with her both surprised and thrilled her.

“You mentioned being brought up in a group home.”

She felt his kiss on the back of her head, before he pulled away and sighed.

“Yeah. I was twelve when I was placed in foster care.”

“That must have been difficult.”

He laughed without humor. “It was. When my mother…died.” Again he hesitated before mentioning his mother’s death, just as he had in the club.

She attributed the hesitation to it being something difficult for him to say, unconsciously running the tips of her fingers along his forearms in a soothing manner.

“What happened to your father?”

“He took off, not long after I was born. I never knew him. It had always been just me and mom. In foster care I felt alone for the first time in my life. Left alone without anyone giving a damn what happened to me, one way or another.”

Emma drew in a deep breath at the revelation. Thinking of her own life, she realized how much she identified with him.

“What about you?”

She snuggled back, deeper into his arms, biting at the corner of mouth, hesitating, still thinking over what he’d shared with her when he spoke. She tucked the revelations away to examine further. He nuzzled the side of her neck, kissing her in the sensitive spot
beneath the lobe of her ear, making goose bumps settle down her arms.

“What’s your story, Emogene, aka Gene, Rawlings?” he probed again, and Emma heard the humor tinged with curiosity in his voice.

“My parents were real adventurers,” she finally said and smiled a bittersweet smile, thinking of her parents. “They met in college, were both liberal arts majors. They wanted to make a difference in the world, they told me. They also believed in experiencing life to the fullest, which is just a fancy way of saying we never stayed in one place for too long.”

“Is that where you got your love for traveling…your parents?”

Emma considered his question before answering.

It was true, traveling to unique places, discovering unique cultures and new adventures had always seemed to beckon her. But she had always thought she had the same wanderlust as everyone else, but she just decided to act on it. The joy of discovering new things had been one of the most pleasurable aspects of her career, yet, just like her parents, she’d eventually grow restless if she were in one place too long.

Recently, though, the novelty had begun to wear thin. Being on the road was constantly losing some of its appeal, and she thought of settling down, maybe writing a book on the various cultures she’d learned about. But whenever the thought came she dismissed it, never able to envision choosing one place she could permanently call home.

“Maybe. At least, that’s one part of it.”

“And the other?”

Emma grew uncomfortable with his probing questions. Not that they were too personal, but because they forced her to examine things she normally left in the back of her mind, buried deep. Forced her to examine the reasons she grew restless yet couldn’t imagine settling down. The thought of being alone scared her more than she was ready to admit to herself.

“My parents died in a plane crash, and I was shuttled back and forth between relatives,” she began haltingly. “I never stayed long enough to grow any attachment to any of them.” She shrugged one shoulder in feigned nonchalance. “No one really wanted me around anyway…so I guess it was no one’s loss when I moved on.”

Her low-spoken words zeroed in on Shane’s heart like a well-aimed bullet, straight and direct. Shane brought her close to his body and listened as she, hesitantly at first, spoke of her childhood. He was as silent as she’d been when he’d opened up to her. Something he rarely did with anyone. The reasons he felt comfortable with her were reasons he didn’t understand himself.

He’d had no intention of spending the morning with her. He’d thought he could just make love to her and get her out of his system. Something he told himself was all that he needed.

But after the first time, he knew it wasn’t enough. He didn’t know how or when it would be enough.

Damn. He was falling for her.

He didn’t know how it happened, when or why. An
inner voice mocked him. He knew exactly when it had begun. It had been from the first time he’d seen her climbing the rappelling wall, followed up by the way she stood up to him in Roebuck’s office, her determined little chin lifted, daring him to try to get rid of her.

He played the role of the carefree bachelor to a fault. He’d never had a need for anything beyond the physical with any of the women he’d been with in the past. And if he occasionally found something lacking in his relationships, or thought maybe he wanted more, something would happen to disabuse him of the notion.

The last time he’d felt something more than casual lust for a woman had been for Ciara, and after that, well, everything had changed for him.

He ran an absent hand over her soft hair, trailing his fingers down her body.

With Emma, his normal mode of operating had been thrown right out the window, and he hadn’t a clue in hell how to retrieve it. He wasn’t sure that he wanted to, even if he knew how.

Beyond the normal pillow talk he had engaged in with partners of the past, saying things he knew they wanted to hear just to make them feel good, with Emma he went deeper, said things he rarely disclosed. And it felt good to do it. As they lay there, spooned together, it felt natural being with her like this as she shared stories of her life as a journalist, at times laughing along with her at the more humorous tales, and sharing her remorse when hearing of the more heartrending stories.

Like two saddle-shy wild horses, they were beginning
to warm to the idea of inviting another into their lives, both gradually giving guarded secrets of themselves to the other.

But Shane was hungry for more. He found himself really wanting to know who she was, beyond the superficial.

He recalled a time when Kyle had laughed at him, warning him that when love hit, it hit hard and unexpectedly and there was nothing a man could do about it, but give in and enjoy the ride.

Love.

Damn.

The minute he thought it, he was brought up short mentally.

There was no way was he falling in love with her. It wasn’t possible. Whatever it was he felt for her, whatever they had going…could never last.

Even as he was having the one-sided mind fight, Shane rubbed his cheek against her hair, breathing in her unique scent deeply as he ran his hand over the soft skin of her stomach in an unconscious, soothing gesture.

He shook his head, as though to rid himself of the notion that he could be falling for her.

“With the way I was brought up, never having a real home I guess, I suppose it was a natural career choice for me, being a journalist.”

“I guess living that way would do that for anyone,” he murmured.

“Yes, I suppose so. I never felt as though I…” she said, pausing “…fit, I guess, is as good a word as
any. I always felt like I was on the outside looking in. The whole ‘square peg trying to fit in a round hole’ syndrome.”

Shane felt the pain behind the casual words.

“I never felt like I was special in any way. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine, I guess. I just never…fit,” she repeated, her voice going soft. When her words came to a halting stop, he pulled her around to face him, looking deeply into her eyes.

“What?” she asked, self-consciously running a hand over her hair. “I must look like a mess.” She shifted as though to move away from him, and he tugged her back against his body.

“You’re very special,” he told her, removing his T-shirt that she’d donned, exposing her pretty breasts to his avid gaze.

“Every part of you.” He reached out and captured one of her nipples, toying with it until it spiked against his fingers. “Inside and out.”

She ducked her head, but not before he caught the hint of a smile and one deep dimple flash.

“And anyone, including me, who thinks otherwise is a damn fool.”

She raised her head and looked at him, tilting it to the side, a question in her eyes. Before she could say a word, he lifted her, placing her body on top of his, and brought their bodies flush, taking her mouth with his.

After a long, hot kiss, he reluctantly released her.

“Do I make you feel good, Emma? Special?” He murmured the question against her mouth.

When he nosed down the length of her neck, she moved her head to the side to give him better access.

“Yes,” she replied in a breathy whisper, laughing huskily. “You do.”

“Good. Because I plan to make you feel so special you’re too weak to walk straight.”

She laughed outright at his lecherous claim.

With slow deliberation, he smoothly flipped their bodies so that he covered her and lowered his mouth, making good on his promise.

Emma woke with a smile stretching her mouth wide.

She turned, expecting to find a warm body next to her, but instead her groping hand grasped a piece of paper where Shane’s head should have been.

Prying her eyes open, she dragged her body away from the mattress. She opened the paper, her eyes scanning over the short sentence written in a broad, masculine script.

Be ready at formation. No excuses, slacker. Even if you can’t walk straight.

She grinned and placed the note on the nightstand before throwing her legs over the edge of the bed, her heart light as she grabbed her clothes and started to get ready for the day.

T
he daylong rush of adrenaline was fading from Emma, exhaustion finally creeping up on her as she dragged herself inside the station.

And if Emma had been under the delusion that the intimacy she and Shane had shared, or their mutual disclosures, would affect how he treated her during the day, she would have been sorely disappointed.

With a groan of relief, she plunked down into the first available chair she could find as soon as she entered the reception area.

In fact, if anything, he’d been more demanding. The day’s activity had included yet another simulation, this one in a smoke-filled room where the rookies had five seconds to don gas masks and protective gear and find and drag out of the building three civilians, two adults
and a child, which were made of canvas and sand to simulate the weight of each.

And of course he’d invited her to participate.

And of course she’d been unable to resist the challenge.

She felt a grin tug at the corners of her mouth. They were quite a pair. “Tough day?”

With a start, she glanced up into the sympathetic smiling face of Belle. She slumped back into the chair.

“Yeah, you could say that,” Emma replied, wrinkling her nose.

“This’ll make you feel better.”

When she noted the cup of steaming liquid the woman was holding out to her, she waved it away with a smile. “Thanks, Belle. But it might take me a minute to get up,” she said with a groan. She placed her hands on the arms of the chair, preparing to push herself upright, when Belle waved a stalling hand.

“No, don’t get up. I’ll bring it to you,” she said, coming from behind the counter. She ambled over and sat in the chair next to Emma, handing her the mug. “I made it from the herbs in my own garden. Chamomile, rosemary and a sprig of peppermint.”

Emma brought the cup to her nose. “Smells great,” she said gratefully before taking a cautious sip.

“I added a little honey as well. Nice and relaxing. Looks like you could use it.”

“Boy, can I!” Emma took another drink, this one
longer, the hot liquid easing down her throat, and sighed.

“So, you and ‘Mr. Hot Sex on a Platter’ have been getting along pretty well, huh?”

The blunt question made Emma spew hot liquid from her mouth, her eyes opening fully.

“Oh, my God…what are you talking about?” she asked, accepting the napkin from the woman and wiping the dribble of tea from her chin before placing the mug carefully on the chipped round wood table near her chair.

The woman cast her a knowing look.

“Look, sweetie. I might be a little gray around the edges—” she ran a hand over her immaculate, upswept hair and winked at Emma “—but this old gal’s not dead!”

Emma glanced around to see if anyone else had entered the area, overhearing the woman’s words and cackling laugh.

“Oh, honey, take it easy…it’s no big deal. Besides, it’s not as though it’s any big secret with the way you two have been carrying on! Besides, I knew it was coming the first time I saw the two of you together,” the older woman said with a smug expression on her face.

“And that would be…?” she asked, the question trailing off as she looked into the woman’s knowing eyes.

“That would be when you were walking around with your tail tucked beneath your butt, acting like you were afraid of your own doggone shadow around that man.
Not to mention the many,
many
times I caught Shane checking out your booty when he thought no one was watching.”

Again, the old woman’s blunt words almost made Emma choke.

“Calm down.” Belle chuckled again. “You two haven’t been
that
bad. But it’s hard to hide when two people become involved. And I don’t think you two could hide it, even if you tried.” A faraway look entered her eyes. “That kind of passion is impossible to keep under wraps.”

To buy herself time before answering, Emma asked, “Have we been that obvious? You know…unprofessional? Are the others talking about us?”

The last thing Emma wanted or needed was for her professionalism to come into question.

“No one’s saying anything, no worries.”

Emma blew out a relieved breath. “Thank God!”

After several moments, the two women drank their sweet tea in companionable silence.

“Well…have you?” Belle asked, returning to her question with the precision of a terrorist inquisitor.

So much for dodging the bullet, Emma thought.

She considered lying. But what was the point? She glanced over at the old woman calmly sipping her tea and felt a grin tugging at the corners of her mouth, before it blossomed into a full smile.

“Ummm, well…yes,” she admitted, despite the heat she felt literally burning up her cheeks. “We have.”

“Alrighty then, that’s what I’m talking about!” Belle
replied, holding up her hand. Laughing outright, Emma slapped palms with the woman.

Emma had never really talked to other women. Not about personal issues at any rate. With her way of living, and her line of work, she’d never really had many “girlfriends.” Even in college, she’d been so focused on school and work that she’d always been somewhat of a loner.

“Okay, so spill.”

“I’m not sure that there’s really much to talk about.” Emma tucked a strand of hair back behind her ear that had escaped her “uniform” ponytail, feeling oddly shy.

She laughed at herself. Here she was at the age of twenty-eight, blushing over a guy as though she were a teenager.

“Sweetie, when the lovin’ is good, there is absolutely
nothing
wrong with a woman blushing. Fact is, if a man don’t make you blush, he ain’t doing something right! That’s when you have to worry!”

After their mutual laughter subsided, Emma turned to her, sobering, thinking of Shane and their new, albeit complex, relationship. She opened her mouth to ask a question and promptly shut it, not sure how to ask. Truth was, she didn’t even know
what
to ask.

“It’s been amazing. Especially the last couple of days with him.” Emma paused, considering. “He’s beginning to open up to me. He shared some of his own story, why he became a jumper. He doesn’t seem to have a problem with me being here anymore.”

“I would imagine not,” Belle interjected.

“Yeah, well, I guess that’s obvious.” Emma smiled lightly before continuing. “But beyond
that,
he’s been really helpful in other ways. Some of the things he’s told me are personal as well. Things I would never have thought he’d share with me, he has.” She paused. “I…I think he’s beginning to trust me. I don’t think he does that very easily.”

What Emma told Belle was true, yet, for as open as he was to her, sharing stories, encouraging the others to speak to her, share their stories, there was a part of himself she felt he kept from her.

“Men are a funny breed. Remember that book about men being from Mars and women from… Oh, hell, where was it?” Belle asked, frowning.

“Venus?”

“Yep, that’s the one. Well, for men like Shane, it even goes a step farther. They don’t open up as easily. They don’t show their feelings in the same way we do.” She stopped and shook her head. “My Carl was a lot like Shane. He would jump into the most perilous situations. Hell, my man lived for it! But ask him to share his feelings and he’d as soon cut out his own tongue! They live a dangerous life, putting their lives on the line to protect and serve. Those type of men are the hardest ones to get to open up and tell you what they’re really thinking.”

“But when they do, sweetheart, when they allow you into their worlds, it’s a beautiful thing. It’s special. Not something that comes easily for them. And when they open their hearts and love…it’s real. Deep. They love hard and long.”

Had Shane loved someone who’d hurt him? Was that the reason for his initial distrust of her? The reason at times she felt his hesitance in opening up to her?

She was ready to ask the woman the questions burning in her mind when the door to the station opened and the man in question entered the room.

“Hey, I was looking for you,” he said, the lines etched around his sensual mouth showing his fatigue. Yet the smile on his face, meant only for her, transformed it, softening it. Emma returned the soft smile, her eyes on his, momentarily forgetting Belle, who was watching the exchange between the two lovers.

He walked toward her, covered in soot. His face, jumpsuit and every exposed inch of skin was sooty, from the day of training in the mock blow-up site.

Emma felt a part of her chest tighten in response to the hero he was, while another part of her, the purely feminine part, melted for the man he was, the man behind the role of hero he played on a daily basis. And yet another part wondered how long this could actually last. She shook her head, determined not to dwell on those types of thoughts and just enjoy what they had for the moment.

He came to stand next to her and stopped. Emma glanced at his outstretched hand. Without hesitation, she placed her hand within his strong grasp and allowed him to pull her to her feet.

“Come home with me.”

Neither one of them heard Belle’s soft chuckle as he led her away.