Every Little Kiss (23 page)

When he finally broke the kiss, Abe leaned back to study her figure. He ran his hands along her legs, all the way up her thighs and over her belly. His hands were slow. When his eyes found hers, they were full of an emotion she couldn't place.

“You are gorgeous,” he murmured, lowering himself so his lips were on her skin. He kissed her clavicle, her sternum, the tips of her breasts. He mouth lingered on her nipples sweetly.

Oh, she liked this pace. She liked this
even better
.

She had thought being tied up would lead to a rough, hot ball of excitement that ricocheted through them both. Instead, Abe was so soft, so adoring, that she felt more like a bride on her wedding night.

The idea should be incongruous. Disjointed.

But instead, it was incredibly right.

Something bright and aching began to spread through her. Something she had never felt before. Abe lowered his head, pushing her thighs still farther apart.

“You are perfect,” he said, trailing kisses down her belly, to her inner thigh, and then to her very center. She gasped as his mouth and tongue worked their perfect magic on her folds, on her clit.

She cried out, arching her back to give him more access. To give him all of her.

For a moment, he replaced his lips and tongue with the precise movements of his fingers. “Am I hurting you?” he asked, his eyes flickering across her body. “Are you all right? Do your arms ache?”

His concern made her heart constrict. “I—no. This is…”

She fumbled for the words.
This is not what I expected.

She'd thought this would be white hot, bone-jarring sex that would make her scream and claw. Instead, she felt like she was on the verge of tears, feeling so much for the soft way Abe held her and pleasured her.

His hands still working on her center, Abe kissed his way back up her body. “If the handcuffs are too much, let me know,” he murmured into her neck. “I don't want to hurt you. Ever. I care about you so much.”

She strained against the handcuffs, wanting to put her arms around him, wanting to pull his head to her and kiss him. But she couldn't. She trembled instead, spinning with confusion. This rowdy, hot fuck was turning into anything but.

And that was a good thing.

Abe kissed her, and as he did, she pressed her chest against his. Skin on skin, heartbeat on heartbeat. “Abe,” she murmured.

“I'm right here,” he said, the tip of his penis straining against her center. “Tell me what you need.”

The answer was so simple, it startled her. “You,” she said. “I need you.”

Abe reached for the bedside table, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. She watched, her mouth all but watering in anticipation. When he slid inside her, it was a sweet connection that filled her with light and song. She could have burst from happiness, from the rightness of it. Her whole body contorted with pleasure.

And with something else, too. “Abe,” she said, crying his name as this strange current swept her away. She was about to be taken under by this unfamiliar tide—until she realized precisely what it was.

It was vulnerability. Every single cell in her whole body was exposed to Abe Cameron right how. There wasn't a single part of her he didn't have access to. She thought he could claim her physically any way he wanted. Now she knew he could claim her heart as well.

He pulled her bottom upward, burying himself deep inside her. She was lost in the perfection of the surrender. With her hands locked to the headboard, she was powerless to control what he did. Then again, she wondered if she'd ever had any control at all.

She'd had her list, her rules. But Abe Cameron had defied all of them, from the start.

He was defying them now, in fact.

And it was perfect.

“I've got you,” he panted into her skin. “I've got you, always.”

She knew it was true. With those words, she could leap off the cliff and trust he'd be right there. With those words, she could believe they might have a chance, come what may.

She broke in his arms then. She came in a spinning, billowing ecstasy that brought to mind summer nights and hot stars. She strained against the handcuffs, rattled them against the headboard, and clenched his body with her thighs. Abe was right there, tuned to her every movement, riding her with perfect synchronicity.

He shouted her name when he came. The sound of it was a gunshot tearing through them both. The raw need there was terrible and wonderful to hear. Abe's orgasm overtook her almost as much as her own. She lost track of everything except the threads of pleasure that knotted them together. They could be apart for the rest of their lives but she would always feel this connection, this twining.

When he was fully spent, he unlocked the handcuffs and pulled her close. Her body folded itself into the valleys and plains of his shape, two puzzle pieces fitting together perfectly. He kissed the top of her head, his arms wrapped protectively around her. “Are you all right?” he murmured.

She could barely contain the emotions that wanted to burst forth. For the first time in her life, it seemed, she was more than all right. She was happy. Deliriously so.

She kissed him and prayed her body told him what she still was struggling to find the words to say.

A
be Cameron had just pulled Casey more tightly against him, relishing the feel of her body against his, when his phone began vibrating incessantly. He squeezed his eyes closed, trying to ignore it. This moment was perfect—Casey in his arms was perfect—and he wanted to stretch it out as long as possible. His heart was hammering, pounding out the message that this was the woman he cared for above all else. It didn't matter if she was tied up or unbound—he would want her with everything he had, forever.

He was in love with Casey Tanner.

Not that he could tell her that, of course. To her, he was just a means to a list. He knew this, understood the cold, bare truth of it. Nevertheless, he wanted to hold her against him for a few moments longer and pretend she returned his feelings.

Only the buzzing of his phone wouldn't quit. It was a hive of bees and he wanted to throw rocks at it. But that would just create a swarm. With a groan of frustration, he peeled himself away from Casey and fumbled for the device in the pocket of his jeans. His stomach sank when he saw it was dispatch.

“Yeah?” he asked, walking into the hallway—stark naked—so he wouldn't disturb Casey.

“I've got a mandatory callback, Abe. A large warehouse fire at 4230 Brainerd Ave. Smoke showing at the initial call. Backup needed.”

Abe's whole body went stiff. “I'm on my way,” he said, and clicked end.

Casey sat up drowsily as he threw on his clothes. “Where are you going?” she asked. She was so beautiful, with the light slanting in behind her, hair cascading over her shoulders. He would give anything to have the entire day in bed with her.

“There's a fire. I have to go.”

She blinked. “But you're off duty.”

“We're a small unit. They call us in if the responding team needs support.” He tried not to think about Reese, so excited by his first real fire that he could mess something up. He took a breath, told himself the kid would remember his training.

Casey was wide awake now, clutching the sheets as Abe finished dressing. Her eyes were round and hollow-looking. Abe realized it was fear.

She was scared for him.

The idea surged through him. She wouldn't look that way if she didn't care for him. Right?

Now wasn't the time to figure it out, though.

He kissed her. A quick pressure that barely skimmed the surface. If he did anything more, he'd put his job—and his team—at risk.

“I'm sorry. I have to go.”

“Abe.” His name on her lips came out cracked. Her mouth moved in almost imperceptible twitches, trying to form the words. “Be careful,” she said finally. “Maybe call me when it's all over?”

He exhaled. Something inside told him she'd wanted to say more, but he didn't have time to pry it out. Instead, he nodded. “I'll call when it's all over.” Then he turned and left, his boots echoing on the bare floors.

He was grim and white-knuckled as he drove away in his Jeep. His emotions were pounding through him, his heart was surging in his chest. He'd feared this for so long: the reality of having something to lose for once. Being in love made the stakes so much higher in any emergency.

He could lose an arm. A leg. He could be burned beyond recognition.

And what then?

Would his love endure? Would
hers
? Because deep down, he knew what she felt for him. There was no disguising it when she was handcuffed to the bed, laid bare in front of him. It was on her skin, in her cries, as surely as if it had been written down on a sheet of paper.

But it might not be enough. He understood that.

His heart hammered. Could he survive any fire, any emergency, knowing she might not be there when it was all over?

This would be the test, then.

He loved Casey Tanner.

Now he'd find out if love could survive the flames and heat, and whether she'd be there if he made it out again.

Casey sprinted into Knots and Bolts, the cold December air following her into the store. “Betty!” she called. The fabric was lined up like books on a shelf, row after row of neat bolts. She felt dizzy, suddenly, among all the colors and patterns.

“Coming!” Betty's voice floated from the back room. Casey didn't wait. She sprinted through the aisle and into the cozy space where the recipe group usually met.

Betty's eyes widened as Casey barreled into the room. “Scanner!” Casey sputtered, realizing she probably sounded mad. “Turn it on!”

She wondered what she looked like, having tumbled out of bed after Abe. He'd left in his Jeep for the fire, and she'd thought about following him, until she realized she'd be a hazard in the midst of a raging fire. What would she even do? Stand around and watch?

Instead, she remembered Betty had a scanner, and she'd hightailed it over to Knots and Bolts.

“Casey, what in the world? Sit down; let me get you something. What's wrong?”

Casey walked unsteadily to the big red table where she usually passed around the remains of her charred and useless hot dish. Now, she placed her hands on top of the wood and imagined drawing strength from all the women who had gathered here, who had let her share this space with them.

Betty grabbed a bottle of Irish whiskey from a nearby cupboard and poured some into a mug. “Sit down,” she commanded, “and drink this.”

Casey accepted the mug with shaking hands. “Can you just turn on the scanner?” she asked. “I need information about the fire.”

“What fire?”

“The one Abe was just called to. He was off duty, but then said something about a fire needing backup. It must have been bad, then, right?” She pulled in ragged breaths, hating how weak she sounded. But that was exactly how she felt—like she'd had her legs kicked out from under her and was now a dribbling mess.

Betty pulled out the chair next to Casey. “Listen, I'm no expert, but Abe is a lieutenant. He's been in this job for years. You worrying about him is sweet, but turning on that scanner won't change a thing. It'll just ratchet you up even more.”

Casey glanced around the room, hoping maybe the device was on a counter somewhere and she could just flip it on. But all she saw were empty counters and tall windows looking out onto blankets of white snow.

“He could be in
danger
,” Casey said, setting down her mug. “He could be in trouble.”

“And what would you do about it if that were the case?”

Casey opened her mouth, then closed it. She had no earthly idea. She couldn't save him. She was powerless to help. “I just…” She wasn't sure how to finish.

I just had the most incredible experience of my life in bed with Abe.

I just figured out I feel so much for him.

I just don't want him to be in danger.

I need to find out if there's a chance for us.

I just can't stand the idea of losing someone else I care about.

And there it was. The stabbing hurt of losing her parents when she was young came knifing back. A terrible car accident and—
wham
—her whole life had taken a different course. Now, with Abe, she risked being hurt all over again.

What if she loved him and he
died
? What if he got taken away, too?

She hung her head, her eyes trained on the liquor. Her muscles felt pummeled, beaten. Maybe her boundaries with Abe were never about kids. Or commitment.

Maybe this had only ever been about protecting herself from the ultimate hurt, the ultimate pain. In the end, maybe Audrey was right.

Casey was making excuses. She was pushing people away. She was telling herself she was trying new things and becoming a different person, but really she was still standing on the edge of the cliff, afraid to jump. The pain of the fall might be unbearable.

“Oh, Betty,” she said, glancing up. She could feel the tears pooling in her eyes. “I've made such a terrible mistake.”

Betty poked her tongue in her cheek. “Guess that makes you human like the rest of us, then.”

Casey groaned. “I'm serious. This is big. Abe Cameron could die in that fire and I'd have to live with the fact that I didn't figure things out sooner.”

“What things?”

“That I care for him. That I—that I—love him.” The words stumbled out.
She loved Abe Cameron.
It was an unbendable truth. She'd been trying to run from it, trying to avoid it. Now that she'd said it, however, it was as if she could finally acknowledge that she wasn't standing on a protected island, but rather in the middle of a tumbling avalanche that was sweeping her akimbo into something entirely new and wild.

“You don't say.” Betty was entirely nonplussed.

“Betty. You're not being very helpful. Will you please just turn on the scanner?”

“No, I won't. Because it won't do any good. Honey, whatever happens in that fire happens. That's a brutal truth that I hate saying to you, but it's true. Abe chose this career. He picked it and that's that. He could go into that fire and never come out. Same as Randall could cross the street and get hit by a truck.”

The sharp edge of the words tore at Casey's heart. “I can't stand the idea. I
can't
.”

“You don't have to. But if you love this man, you will. Because life will be more miserable if you don't.”

She could hear Audrey's words from their heart-to-heart at the bar, and knew she cared enough about Abe to stop being terrified. She was willing to believe that maybe the mountain of their differences wasn't immovable. Maybe all it took was them scaling the mountain together.

She rubbed her forehead. “He has to come out of that fire. He must. He told me he'd call me after it was over.”

Betty reached out her hand, palm up. “Then I'll stay with you until he rings. Long as you need, okay?”

Casey stared at the hand, at the offering of friendship. She took it and squeezed. “Thank you,” she said to Betty. “Thanks for being here for me.”

Betty smiled. “You just like me for my Irish whiskey.”

“It doesn't hurt, that's for sure.”

“Well, drink up. We have a long afternoon in front of us.”

Casey drained the last of her mug and watched Betty pour another shot. Then she took out her cell and laid it on the red table, praying with her whole heart that it would ring soon.

Abe cursed the property owner as he battled his way through thickening smoke to the second story of the warehouse. Above him, heads had been removed on the automatic sprinkler system and the pipes scrapped by scavengers. Below him, piles of rags, bundled in twine and burlap, sat like hulking monsters that could ignite at any minute.

The very location of the fire had been what had precipitated the mandatory callback. The fact that they were doing battle in the abandoned cloth company's warehouse had automatically required more personnel. Even now, the thick, greasy smoke pointed to a fire burning hot with oil and chemicals. The company had left this place when it went out of business, never cleaning up the waste and the piles of oily rags, and now something had set part of it ablaze.

“Shit,” he muttered, trying to get to the heart of the fire. It was on the second story, at the top of the stairs. Branching off to the left and right were hallways, each leading to different rooms in the warehouse. The fire looked to be in the left-side hallway and, based on the amount of smoke, it still seemed small, relatively manageable. That is, if they could just get their hoses close enough to it. From the outside, chain-link fences and piles of old tires had blocked the trucks from pulling up on the side of the building where the smoke was pouring out. When Abe had arrived, his team had been trying to figure out an alternative route in. Now, they'd finally battled more debris and blockage to get their hoses into the front entrance. They were dragging them up the staircase, to the second floor where the fire was.

Abe stuck his foot through a rotted step and cursed. He thought he felt something sway. He stopped, took a deep breath of clean air through his mask. Reese paused behind him as he wriggled his foot out of the hole.

“You okay?” Reese asked through the com.

“Fine. Let's get this over with.”

Abe reached the top of the stairs. To his left, the flames leaped and smoke rolled. Ahead of him was a large broken window that was once no doubt composed of wavy, leaded glass. It was probably a lovely jewel in the old brick warehouse—before companies that didn't care about the town or the land let it slide into disrepair and danger.

“All right,” he told Reese when they were in position, “hit it.”

They flipped the lever and braced themselves as water blasted onto the blaze.

The smoke began to change immediately to a light gray. Abe wouldn't let himself exhale, but it was a good sign. The air was less tar-like, less toxic. So why was there still so much heat?

He was about to ask Reese the question when the rumble took him by surprise. He turned just as Reese uttered one, terrified word: “Lu.” Barely a warning, but it was all he had time for. Behind them, the staircase was crumbling.

He and Reese jumped back, losing the hose as the staircase engulfed it. Flames were leaping from the wood, and that was when Abe realized that debris from the second-story blaze had dropped onto rag bundles below. They'd caught fire as well—before anyone had noticed. They'd ignited next to the rickety staircase, which had gone up quickly, and now their hose was gone—not to mention their main exit.

Worse, the fire to their left wasn't quite out, and it was starting to build again. He could see it in the lick of the flames. The thing was still hungry. And they had no way to fight it.

Abe raced to the window and smashed against it, trying to shatter more of the remaining panes. Reese joined him. Behind them, the fire was roaring, building as it consumed more rags. The heat was suffocating.