Ride the Fire (11 page)

“What’s the significance of the bottle?”

“After my family died, I used alcohol to numb the pain, more and more frequently until I had a real problem. I came to work hungover a few months ago and made a grave mistake, and one of my former firefighters was almost killed. I went into rehab and just recently got out, returned to work.”

The cop nodded. “You’re recovering. Good for you.” No judgment. “Let me take a look at the bottle and the photo.”

They rose and Sean led him through the kitchen, Eve following. On the way out to the deck, he said, “There’s the box they came in.”

Outside, Kayne squatted next to the small table to look at the photo, but didn’t touch it. He studied it for several long moments before he spoke. “Did both of you handle this?”

“Yes,” he said, feeling stupid. “I guess we shouldn’t have.”

“I doubt we would’ve gotten much off of it even if you hadn’t. It’s rarely like on TV where the print is all perfect and the culprit is rounded up neat as can be. But we’ll check, ’cause you never know. I’ll need you both to come in and get printed so we can rule yours out.” Kayne stood, gestured to the bottle and glass. “You didn’t drink any of that, I hope? Could be doctored.”

“No, my stupidity level is about maxed for one day,” he muttered.

“Good. I’m gonna go and get some evidence bags out of my car and I’ll be right back.”

As soon as the detective disappeared through the sliding glass door, Eve spoke up. “I like him. It seems like he’s taking this seriously, and not because we called in a favor.”

“Is that the only reason you like golden boy?” Dammit, he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

She squinted at him. “Golden boy?” A slow smile spread across her face. “You’re jealous.”

“I’m not.”

“Ha! You are.” The smile turned mischievous. “I could probably have a date with him before he leaves. Want to place a bet?”

“No, I damned well do not,” he said, low and dangerous. “There’s no need because you’re not going anywhere with him.”

She feigned an innocent look. “I’m not?”

“No, you’re fucking not, so drop the subject.” Jesus, he was growling like a rabid wolf.

“Wrong tactic,” she said sweetly. “Rewind and try that again.”

The idea of her following through, going out with the cop, eventually allowing him into her bed? Letting him do the things Sean had done to her last night?

He pulled Eve into his arms and brought his mouth down on hers. Kissed her like he meant business, and he did. Because no matter how bad an idea it was to get involved with her, allowing another man to take his place trumped that one as king of the bullshit ideas. His tongue slipped past her lips and she melted against him. Warm and soft, just the way he liked. He was really getting into it when a throat cleared behind them.

Sean broke the kiss, but took her hand before facing the detective. “Sorry about that.” But he wasn’t and they both knew it. From the cop’s rueful smile, Sean had effectively burst his bubble. Good.

“I bagged the box and wrapping paper in the kitchen so the lab guys can test those, too. What, if anything, they’ll tell us, who knows? The most innocuous-looking objects can talk and sometimes tell a hell of a story.” He proceeded to bag the bottle of Jack and the photo, and prepared to leave. “You’ll be around if I have more questions?”

“Absolutely. You can reach me here or at Station Five. Let me give you a card.” Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted his wallet and fished out a business card while Kayne did the same. They exchanged cards and pocketed their wallets.

“Given what you’ve told me, I’m treating this as a threat,” the detective said. “It’s unofficial at the moment because an
actual
threat hasn’t been made, but the implication is there. I’ve seen mean pranks, but frankly, the tone of this strikes me as sinister. Until we find out different, that’s how I’m approaching it. I’ll let you know something soon.”

“I really appreciate this,” Sean said. He meant it, too. “If this asshole had anything to do with my family’s death, he’s going to pay.”

“I’d feel the same way. Let me ask you one more question.” He pinned Sean with a narrow-eyed look. “Do you have any idea who’s behind this?”

He considered the answer, lead settling in his gut. “Almost everyone in the fire department knows what happened to my family, and me as a result. My mistake got a good man hurt. One of them might hate me enough to try and push me out.” The past niggled at his brain, like a worm pushing through soil. “There was someone else, once. We parted on bad terms, but that was over twenty years ago and I haven’t heard from him since.”

“Twenty years? Most people aren’t that patient. You piss them off, they react. The first scenario seems far more likely,” Kayne agreed.

Sean walked him to the front door. Items in hand, the detective reminded him about getting fingerprinted, said his good-byes, and left. Sean’s prints were on file with the military, but he figured going in would save the cops some time digging them up, so he didn’t argue.

For his part, Sean was glad to be rid of both the “gift” and the cop, for very different reasons. Both posed a subtle threat to the inner peace he was trying so hard to establish.

He turned to find Eve standing in the middle of the living room, arms crossed over her chest. He knew that look, the one of a woman in self-protection mode. She might have melted into his kiss before, but she wasn’t going to be distracted now. He went to stand in front of her, unsure what to say.

“What was all of the breast-beating about? You don’t want me, but the second someone else shows an interest, you go caveman. What is that?”

He pushed a hand through his hair. “I wish I knew.”

“That makes two of us.”

“All I know is whenever I see another man sniffing around, touching you or making eyes at you, like that fool Blake—”

“Drake.”

“—whatever, or the detective . . . Christ, it drives me crazy!”

“You can’t have it both ways. You’re going to have to deal with me dating other men, or come up with some rules we can live with, because I can’t do this ping-pong thing. Not with you. I can handle anything but being yanked around—that I won’t tolerate, and I don’t give a shit how much you snarl. What’s it going to be?”

“You’re asking me to—what?—make a decision about us when this thing between us, whatever it is, is a whole day old? In the middle of trying to keep sober, reestablish the respect of my men, and figuring out who wants to ruin it all?”

She looked away, jaw clenched. “Of course not. I’m flying as blind as you are, and I just need to figure out what we’re doing. Besides fucking.”

“Look at me.” When she did, he cupped her face. Her gaze was wary, shadowed, and he hated that he’d put that look there. “Last night was more than sex. Why the hell do you think I’m so scared? It doesn’t help that I still don’t think I’m the greatest thing that could ever happen to you.”

“So where do we go from here?” she asked miserably. “What do you want from me, Sean?”

Everything. I want it all, and I’m terrified to get it only to have it taken away. Again.

“To take things one day at a time. Can we do that?”

“I can’t settle for being friends with benefits. I can have that with Drake or anyone else, without risking my job or my heart,” she said softly.

“Are you risking your heart by taking a chance on me?” He stroked her cheek, and fell into her ocean blue eyes.

“Do you even have to ask?”

“I guess not. But the risk isn’t one-sided.” He took a deep breath, and took the first step out on a very thin limb. “You’re much more than a friend to me, baby. I’ve been in denial about it for the past several months. Then we acted on our feelings and I panicked because I’ve lost it all before and can again. I’m starting my life over, and it’s terrifying. It doesn’t excuse what I did this morning, but those are my reasons.”

“You’re not going to fail, or lose the people you love a second time. I refuse to believe that fate, or whatever is responsible, could play out that way again.”

“The odds are with you being right, but my messed-up head still needs screwing on straight. I don’t know why you’d want to put up with me, but . . . are you willing to take things slow? See what happens?”

Her expression lit with excitement, but was tempered with caution. “Only if we’re exclusive while we’re ‘taking things slow.’ I don’t share well with others.”

“Neither do I, baby,” he murmured into her hair. “You’ve got a deal.”

“We’re going to have to keep this on the down-low at work.”

“An understatement. And it won’t be easy, because those guys will be worried about you and pissed at me if they find out. I don’t care for my sake, but I don’t want any of our personal issues affecting their concentration on a call.”

If the guys thought he might hurt Eve, the fragile new trust he’d begun to rebuild with them could degenerate into a hellish situation, fast. He couldn’t put them through that. But he couldn’t walk away from her. He’d already tried, and failed spectacularly.

“There’s one exception.” She looked him straight in the eye. “Zack knows.”

“What? Already?” Damn, this was going to be awkward.

“I was upset and I had to talk to somebody,” she defended. “Besides, he’s my best friend and knows me well enough that he would’ve put two and two together in a heartbeat.”

“I know, it’s just . . . jeez, who are we kidding? They’re
all
going to figure it out.”

She deflated some. “Yeah. And Six-Pack will be the first one because he’s
your
best friend and he doesn’t miss a beat. The way he was staring at us last night, he suspects.”

“You’re right. I’m surprised he hasn’t called or dropped by to ask me flat out.”

“If you’re thinking that, he probably will. Look, there was a reason I came over. After I saw how upset you were about the package, I was going to postpone bringing this up, but it seems I don’t have a choice.” Releasing him, she dropped onto the sofa. He’d never seen her so conflicted.

He sat beside her, trying to catch her eye. Someone as direct as Eve, not looking at him? Not a good sign. “I can tell I’m not going to like this.”

“I’m putting in for a transfer,” she said, her voice painfully sad.

He’d have been less stunned if she’d shot him. “Forget it. I won’t send in the form, so get that idea out of your head.”

At that, she snapped her gaze to his face. “It’s for the best and we both have to accept that.”

“I don’t have to accept shit. It’s not gonna happen.”

“You’re impossible!” she cried, throwing her hands in the air in frustration. “An arrogant, stubborn jackass!”

“That’s what you like about me,” he said with a confident grin. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t be here.”

“I came to tell you I was leaving for another station!”

“But you wouldn’t have gone through with it, paperwork or not.” Reaching over, he hauled her into his lap.

“Infuriating,” she whispered into his lips.

“Yep, that’s me.”

God, claiming her mouth was fast becoming his favorite activity. Well, second favorite, next to claiming the rest of her. Swooping in, he captured her lips, deepened the kiss. Drank in her essence. Nothing like the taste of Eve, the feel of her nestled in his arms, and he wanted more.

She pressed against him, fingers twined in his hair. Heat ignited between them, rising in a tide of desire, sweeping him away in the current. Why swim against it? Holding her tight, he stood, erection swelling, hot and aching. His need for this woman was incredibly strong when it had been muted to near silence before, and he could only guess that the alcohol—or more accurately his inability to kick it—had been to blame.

“Let me take you to my room? Please.” He’d beg if he had to.

“Yes.”

Her upturned face, the fire that reached out to touch him, was all the extra reassurance he needed.

And he planned to ride that fire all afternoon.

Didn’t matter. Her need for this man was as simple, and complicated, as that.

At the end of the hallway, he made a right and carried her into a big bedroom filled with tasteful, dark masculine furniture. As he crossed the room and laid her on the king-sized bed, she admired how the large window let in plenty of light, bathing the gorgeous space in golden tones. There was nothing feminine about the space with its clean lines and no frills.

“When I got out of rehab, I bought new furniture and redid the room,” he said, answering her unspoken question. “No one has slept in this bed but me.”

Relief nearly overwhelmed her. Until that moment, she hadn’t realized the prospect of making love on the same bed he’d occupied with his wife would be so abhorrent. But she should’ve known Sean would not be so thoughtless a lover.

“I’m glad. And the pieces are beautiful.”

“I needed a new start, and for me, the bedroom was the most important place to begin. I wanted to turn a place of misery into one of peace and sanctuary.” His green eyes shone. “I never dreamed it could become more.”

She didn’t ask what he meant by
more
. For now, being here with him would feed her starving soul, fuel her fantasies. The future seemed an elusive thing, a dream without a promise, and the present might have to hold her when the dream vanished into mist.

Sean walked into his bathroom and she could see his rear as he bent over, rummaging in a drawer. In a few moments, he returned and flashed her a smile. “How old do condoms have to get before they disintegrate into dust?”

A giggle escaped, sounding strange to her ears. “I have no clue. But I have some in my purse if—”

“That’s quite all right. These will do.” He tossed a couple onto the nightstand, leering. “Strip for me, honey.”

She arched a brow. “We’re really going to work on your delivery. When we’re in the bedroom, you are
not
my boss.”

His feral grin was all the warning she got before he bounded onto the bed, pushed her onto her back, and straddled her hips. His hard-on rubbed low on her abdomen, right above the pubic area, as he crouched, placing his palms on either side of her head. “I beg to differ, baby,” he murmured.

He kissed her senseless to back up his claim, an activity that was fast proving to be one of his favorites. Hers, too. The spike of arousal plucking her nipples, heating between her thighs, attested to the fact that not all of her objected to his taking charge—in the bedroom or anywhere he wanted.

She might as well face that the man was the perfect match for her strong personality. In every way. Whatever she gave, he gave back in spades. No other man had ever turned her on like Sean, and no other ever would.

He finally broke away and sat up, giving her a bit of room to maneuver. “You’re too clothed.”

“So are you.”

“Ladies first.”

“Lady, singular.”

“Figure of speech. You’re stalling.”

“I’m not.”

Pushing up, she pulled off her shirt and tossed it. When she went for the bra, he forestalled her, flicking the clasp himself. He peeled the cups apart, baring her breasts to his hungry gaze, and pushed her down again. Despite his demand for her to undress, he continued to do the task himself, taking off her shoes and socks, then unzipping her jeans.

After working them off her hips and down her legs, he shoved them off the bed along with her underwear. His own clothes went next, and she could only stare in appreciation at the sight of his hard, muscled body. His wasn’t the form of a man in the bloom of his youth, but that of a mature man who’d seen plenty of battles and lived to tell. No question about it, Sean was in amazing shape and could hold his own with any guy.

Ogling him, her attention focused on the tattoo she’d noticed last night but hadn’t asked about. With her finger, she traced the eagle on his upper right arm. The bird had an American flag in its talons, and its wings were spread to wrap around his bicep. “The artwork is beautiful,” she said, admiring it. “Where did you have this done?”

“Bangkok, when I was in the service.” A fleeting shadow crossed his face. “During one of the many stupid moments of my youth.”

“I think it’s gorgeous.”

“No, gorgeous is you.” Crouching over her again, he nipped and suckled each breast, sending little shocks through the brown nubs. “What do you want, baby? You need my mouth?”

“Please,” she said, voice thick.

He tongued the peaks, lavishing each one with equal attention before venturing south, to her tummy. She was ticklish there, which he quickly discovered and ruthlessly used to his advantage, making her squeal as he nibbled and blew raspberries, licked her insy. But when he moved lower still, she gasped in delight as his mouth found her sex, laved the folds with a sound of pure male satisfaction.

He wasn’t shy about seeing to her pleasure, and indeed made it his mission to be certain she was writhing mindlessly, legs splayed, surrendering to his mouth. Gripping his hair, she bucked her hips as he suckled the bud of her clit, sending off little sparks that danced behind her eyelids.

“Sean, please . . .”

He lifted his head. “Yes?”

A whimper escaped, and she would’ve been embarrassed if she weren’t so far gone. Hell, she never made noises like that—much less begged—for any man. “Please! I need you inside me.”

Moving to the side, he retrieved a condom from the nightstand and ripped open the package, sheathing himself quickly. “Roll over on your stomach.”

Stomach? Apparently Sean wasn’t much for missionary, if their encounters so far were any indication. The idea excited her, and she knew there was definitely something to be recommended for having a
man
for a lover instead of a boy. She complied, wondering what he’d do next.

“On your knees.”

His tone, and maybe a bit of intuition, told her that he might have something in mind besides simple doggy-style. Eager to find out, she presented herself on all fours, feeling completely slutty. Free. Always before she’d held a part of herself back, but with this man, there was no reason. He’d take care of her.

One hand gripped her hips while the other brought the head of his cock to her folds. He nudged with care and she opened for him with a moan, loving how he filled her inch by inch, his thick length sliding deep. At last he was seated to the hilt, stretching her more than she’d thought possible, their position adding to the delicious friction.

“God, yes.” His fingers dug into her hips as he began to move.

His thrusts were strong, steady. A long slide in, then all the way out. In again, not too fast, just enough force and control to let her feel the unleashed power, thrill her to every nerve ending. A few more thrusts and he had her writhing on his cock, owning her, small sounds of pleasure escaping her lips.

Before she realized his intention, he rose up and sat back, wrapping an arm around her middle and taking her with him. Now she was sitting in his lap, back to front, impaled. So decadent, erotic. Connected in a way she’d never been to another man, and the sheer sensuality made her fly.

He began to move his hips, and her head fell back onto his shoulder. If she’d been free before, she was soaring now, dancing with this man making love to her like a dark angel.

“God, Eve,” he rasped. “I’ve wanted . . . for so damned long . . .”

Me, too. Oh, yes!

But she wasn’t sure if she said the words aloud or only in her head. Wasn’t sure of anything but the stroke of his cock, fingers splayed on her throat, lips nuzzling her neck. Unintelligible rumbles of encouragement, satisfaction. Arousal built to a fever pitch, a white-hot ball gathering, growing heavy. . . .

The explosion swept her into space and she cried out, pulsing around his length. Another thrust, two, and he stiffened, arms tightening around her with a hoarse shout. He held her through the storm, rode it gently back to earth with a sigh. Soothed her with lips and hands, made her feel like the most wanted woman alive.

All too soon reality intruded. Eve disengaged and rolled to her back, a smile lighting her face. One that was short-lived when she saw him staring wide-eyed at his condom-clad cock.

The condom that was split and leaking cum onto his new comforter.

“I . . . shit, Eve! I’m sorry,” he said, stunned.

Oh, God. Elation morphed to a sick sinking in her stomach. Still, she tried for a bit of levity. “Guess that answers your question about when condoms will disintegrate.”

“Jesus, I’m such an idiot.” He raised stricken green eyes to hers.

She shrugged, feigning calm. “Hey, we’re both clean. We know that because we have regular tests through work, and on top of that, I’ve never had unprotected sex until now. Plus, I’m on the pill. We’ll be okay.”

Some of the panic drained from his expression. “You’re on the pill?”

“Yep, no worries.” The knot of dread grew cold, especially given the relief evident in the slump of his shoulders and relaxing of his body.

“All right, that’s good. Not that I wouldn’t do right by you, but—”

“Sean, breathe. We’re fine.”

He nodded, pushed a hand through his hair. “Okay. You’re right. Why don’t I get us a washcloth to clean up?”

Without waiting for an answer, he jumped from the bed and ducked into the bathroom. She blew out a breath and tried not to imagine his reaction if her reassurances proved wrong.

Fortunately, the chances of that were slim.

Thank goodness.