9781618856173FiredUpHolt (2 page)

That
was two days ago. Since then she’d barely been able to think of anything else.
Last night she’d had such an erotic dream about Sam that she’d woken up sweaty
and panting with three of her fingers shoved into her pussy and the other hand
clamped around a breast. She’d needed a long shower, much of it cold, to pull
herself together. She’d actually been so unfocussed at work today people asked
her if she had a problem.

Yes.
A problem.
I want to have hot, sweaty, off-the-wall sex with my neighbor.

She
had heard stories about him as she covered the news beat. Reporters she worked
with talked about his heroics in firefighting as well as his community service.
In a town the size of Benton information like that spread easily and quickly.
As one of only two photographers at the newspaper, she kept hoping she’d be
assigned to a story involving him and today it had finally happened. She had just
returned to the newspaper when her editor grabbed her.

“Are
you good to go on an assignment?” he barked. “I can’t send you out on something
if you’re gonna fuck it up.” The man wasn’t noted for either his tact or his
manners.

“I’m
fine,” she insisted, dragging in the frayed edges of her mind. “What have you
got?”

“Three
alarm fire at an apartment house,” he told her. “I hear it’s bad. Scully’s got
it. I got him on his cell. Get going and meet him there. And don’t skimp on the
shots.”

She’d
had to park two blocks away because the police department had all the streets
blocked. Not a problem. She’d long ago taken to wearing comfortable shoes on
the job. Carrying her camera bag she jogged to the scene of the fire and her
editor had been right. Bad barely began to describe it.

Flames
engulfed the entire building. Residents huddled in everything from nightclothes
to jeans, women crying, mothers hugging their children. A woman was sobbing
hysterically in the arms of a neighbor, screaming something. The neighbor was
doing her best to console her, but Misa saw the look of despair on her face.
The firemen were doing their best to contain it, but their hoses didn’t seem to
be making much headway.

“Where’s
Sam?” she heard a man shout.

Probably his captain.

“Still
inside,” someone yelled back.

Misa’s
insides clutched. Sam, her Sam, was still in that building? How on earth would
he ever get out alive?

“Get
him out now,” the man ordered.
“Right now.
The entire building’s about to collapse.”

She
saw a man in turnout gear hold a walkie-talkie to his mouth, obviously trying
to contact Sam.

“Get
moving,” he shouted again into the instrument. “Captain says get the hell out
this minute.”

Apparently
Sam either wasn’t listening or was ignoring him because the man turned to his captain
and shook his head.

Misa
inched as close as she could to the scene, snapping pictures one after the
other. Then a roar went up from the crowd. People pointed and she looked up. A
fireman in full turnout gear had made it out of a third floor window and onto
the extension ladder. One arm cradled a baby securely over his shoulder.

The
hysterical woman turned to look at the fireman and ran toward the ladder. It
seemed to Misa it took forever for him to reach the bottom. She snapped shot
after shot of him with the baby, handing the baby to the mother, the mother
reaching up to hug him, the other men congratulating him.

The
crowd cheered wildly as he handed the baby to the hysterical mother. When he
took off his helmet to swipe at his smoke-blackened face she realized it was
Sam, that he’d made it out safely, and something inside her exploded.
Talk about a hero!

Misa
thought about adding her voice to the others but then his captain pulled him
away. Besides, she needed to get back to the newspaper and upload the shots
onto her computer.

Finishing
up took her longer than she expected. Her editor loved the pictures, especially
the one of Sam bringing the little boy out of the fire so he bumped it to the
front page of the local news section. He called her into his office, the photos
she’d taken up on his computer screen.

“How
often do we get a hero like this?” He pointed to the shot of Sam bringing out
the little boy. “Did you get his name? Work with Scully. Pick out the best
shots. Help him dig in the files. See what you can find out about him. Let’s
play it up big.”

At
last her editor was satisfied and the story was done. Now, finally, she was
home. If she had sense she’d just go right into her house, take a shower
and—and what? Sit and stare at Sam’s house? Was he even home yet?

Saturday,
he’d told her. I’ll call you Saturday morning.

But
she’d seen Sam at his finest today and she wanted him even more than before, if
that was possible.
Wanted to see him.
Hug him for his
bravery. Tear off his clothes.

Oversexed much?

If you’re going to make a fool of
yourself go ahead and get it over with.

She
actually got as far as pulling into the garage and taking her purse and camera
case into the house. Then, as if her feet had a mind of their own, they pulled
her into the next driveway where she stood on tiptoe to peer into the narrow
garage window. She took it as an omen that his car was there, sucked up her
courage, and jogged up to his front door. Hesitating only a moment she pressed
the doorbell.
When she heard nothing she rang again, this
time leaning on the bell.

Yeah, make a pest of yourself.

She
was about to turn back to her own place when she heard him shouting.

“Coming, coming, coming!”

The
door was yanked open and Misa nearly swallowed her tongue. Sam Braddock stood
there in all his overwhelmingly masculine glory clad only in a towel knotted at
his hip. The muscular expanse of chest was dusted with curls the same shade of
dark brown as the hair on his head and the fine sprinkling on his arms and
legs. The flat dark nipples on his chest seemed to be staring directly at her
so she quickly lowered her eyes.

Big
mistake!

A
semi-bulge poked at the towel from between his legs.
The same
bulge that had her so tongue-tied the day before.

Tongue.
On his bulge.
His cock.
Don’t
go there.

Holy shit!

“Oh, Misa.
Hi.” He raked his fingers through his hair still
damp from a shower then gestured at the towel. “Sorry, but I was just getting
cleaned up.”

“Um,
I, um, That is, I wanted to tell you I saw you today.”
Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He
frowned. “You did?
At the fire?
What were you doing
there?”

“I,
um…”

Well, Misa, try to talk like an
adult.

“I’m
sorry. This is a bad time. I should just go home and wait until you call
Saturday.”

She
turned to go but he reached out and closed his fingers over her arm. Pinpoints
of heat sizzled through her at his touch.

“Wait.”
He exhaled slowly. “How did you happen to see me today?”

She
blew out a breath. “I saw you today.
At the fire.
I
was taking pictures for the newspaper.” She swallowed. “I just wanted to tell
you how brave I thought you were and what a great job you did saving that
baby.”

His
grip on her relaxed but his fingers still rested on her arm.

“You
don’t have to thank me. Seeing the look on the mother’s face was thanks
enough.” He tugged on her arm. “Come on in.” He looked down at his towel and
grinned. “Let me put on some real clothes. It will only take me a second. Come
on.”

She
let him lead her into his house, taking in the scene as they walked through. The
place was a small bungalow, just like hers, only it was obvious he’d done some
work here. It made her realize just how little she’d done to give her own place
personality.

The
carpeting had been replaced by polished hardwood floors and oversized
comfortable furniture filled the space. As in her house, there was a small
fireplace framed in by the same hardwood and photos ranged along the mantle.

“Here.”
He motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Misa
sat down and Sam turned to walk away. As he did, the knot on his towel came
loose and the wrap fell to the floor.
Holy
crap!
His ass was tight and muscular as were his thighs, and broad
shoulders swept down to a lean waist. She wanted to lick him all over.
Very slowly.
Everywhere.

“Oops!”

Sam
bent down to pick up the towel giving her an exquisite view of his balls. When
he turned he held the cloth loosely around himself, making no effort to retie
it. And he showed no sign of embarrassment. Rather, his coffee brown eyes were
staring at her as if they wanted to devour her one inch at a time. The towel
drooped to the side and her eyes widened at the sight of the most magnificent
cock she ever remembered seeing. Just as she’d imagined it when her gaze had
been fixated on his jeans the other day—thick and hard and long, it stood
proudly jutting out from his body.

“Should
I say oops again?” he asked.

She
shook her head, her eyes still fastened on his shaft. “Should I be
embarrassed?”

“Only if you aren’t interested in giving me a real reward.”
He walked over to where she sat.
“I’ve had my eye on you ever since I moved in, wanting to introduce myself. But
the timing never seemed to be right. We always seemed to be going in opposite
directions.” His voice turned husky.
“Until the other day.
I think the time is right now, don’t you?”

She
nodded, speech escaping her.

Sam
took her hands and lifted her from the couch. His arms wrapped around her and
he lowered his mouth to hers, a gentle kiss at first, little more than a
rubbing of lips. But then his tongue traced the seam of her mouth and without
even thinking she opened for him. His tongue swept in, a flame burning her
every place it touched. She let her own tongue dance with his and when he
sucked it deep into his mouth she melted against him.

One
large hand slid down her back to cup her ass and pull her in tight against him.
When he did his cock pressed against her so she felt every inch of its hard
length. Long fingers squeezed her ass, massaging it while he continued to
plunder her mouth.

They
broke the kiss only when they were starving for air. Sam looked down at her,
the golden glints in his eyes reminding her of dancing fire.

“Last
chance to change your mind,” he told her.

She
just shook her head and closed her hand around his rigid penis.

“Then
let’s get you out of these clothes.” His voice had gone husky. “I think one of
us is overdressed.”

Chapter Two

Misa
lifted her arms so Sam could pull her thin sweater over her head. His gaze
fastened on her bra and the hard nipples poking against the satin fabric.
Without a word he lowered his head and closed his mouth around one of them,
biting gently before tugging it into his mouth. She moaned as heat streaked
through her right to her cunt. Her panties were so wet she could feel the
moisture on the inside of her thighs. The more he sucked on her nipple the
wetter she got. When he turned his attention to her other nipple she slid her
hands between them and squeezed his cock convulsively. A harsh animalistic
sound burst from his throat.

His
nimble fingers unfastened her bra and he peeled it from her body before turning
his attention to her slacks. Even as he unfastened the button and lowered the
zipper he returned his mouth to her nipples, licking them and tracing the edges
of her aureoles.

Reluctantly
she released his shaft and clutched the hard muscles of his arms for support. Toeing
off her shoes she kicked away the fabric that pooled at her feet. With his
large hands beneath her ass he lifted her so her mouth was even with his again.

“Put
your legs around me,” he whispered.

Misa
wrapped them around his waist, his cock pressing against her pussy, her entire
body fairly vibrating with need. The thick rod rubbed against her clit as he
walked them out of the living room, sending white-hot shafts of electricity
zinging through her.

They
moved, in that position, down a very short hall and into his bedroom. Late
afternoon sun slanting in through the window cast a glow on the huge bed that
dominated the room. A bed she wanted to dive into with him. Yanking back the
covers he lowered her carefully onto smooth sheets, his arms bearing her weight
and the picture flashed briefly across her mind of him in full turnout gear
carrying the baby securely but gently. Rather than dampening her passion the
memory
ramped
it up.