Firecracker (Last Call, Book Six) (3 page)

“
What happens when you let
go?”

“
Same as you, Phoebe.” He
pushed her bra straps off her shoulders. “Things get
hot.”

Fire. How wild would it be
when
both
of them
burned? Shivering, she let her bra slip away, leaving her bare
above the waist. “We can both let go.”

“
Nobody to hurt here,” he
agreed softly. “Nothing to go wrong.”

She was being seduced. Stroked, petted,
soothed into a melting puddle of hunger and loose-limbed eagerness.
Phoebe tilted her head back to thump against his shoulder and
closed her eyes. “I don’t think you’re letting go. I think you’re
holding back.”

“
For now.” His thumb grazed
her nipple. “You should know better than anyone that a good fire
takes a while to stoke.”

She lifted her hand to his and tried to urge
a firmer touch. Catching her nipple between his thumb and her own
pinched it tight—and drove a gasp from her lips. “I haven’t
been...stoked in a long time. It doesn’t take much.”

He twisted her nipple, just enough to elicit
another gasp. “You like it a little rough?”

“
I think so.” She hadn’t
wanted anything besides
more
, but the words resonated in an
unexpected way, and her body’s reaction spoke for itself. “No one’s
ever dared to try. I’ve never had an inherently fireproof lover
before.”

“
You like it,” he murmured,
shifting his hand to cup her breast. “I can feel you heat up just
thinking about it.”

He liked it, too. His erection pressed
against the small of her back when she leaned into him, a bulge
trapped behind denim that chafed her bare skin. His belt buckle bit
into her skin, and she relished the sensation of being all but
naked and held against his large, clothed body. It was dirty.
Vulnerable. Not an emotion she’d ever thought of as an aphrodisiac,
but it was turning her on now.

She wanted more, so she let her hand fall and
pressed into his touch. “Be a little rough with me.”

Jarrett spun her then, dragging her close to
his chest before catching her mouth in a forceful but brief kiss.
“Undress me,” he murmured, his voice as dark and wild as his
gaze.

His shirt was already disheveled from her
earlier attempts, so she started there, coaxing the fabric up and
over his head. As it fell to the floor, she returned her attention
to his chest, pleased to discover that the thick swirls of ink
continued up his shoulder and across his collarbone. “Your tattoos
are beautiful.”

“
One per decade.” He stroked
his thumbs under her jaw. “A way to mark the years.”

“
I’m jealous of the
artists.” She reached for his belt next, savoring the rich feel of
leather under her fingers. “I’ve never had a canvas as intriguing
as you.”

He sucked in a breath. “Do you usually lick
your canvases? Because that’s what you look like you want to do to
me.”

She did—and she could. The truth of that
knowledge finally sank in, and it left Phoebe giddy, weightless.
Free.

She was at Last Call with an
indestructible lover. She could do
anything
.

The gorgeous expanse of his chest beckoned,
and she gave in, pressing her parted lips to his flesh with a moan.
He was cool, especially compared to her own fevered body, but not
as cool as he had been a few minutes earlier. He was warming up
too, and the thought drove her to drag her tongue across his skin
until she could close her teeth lightly around his nipple.

Warm wasn’t enough. She wanted him to
burn.

Jarrett groaned and clenched his fingers in
her hair. “Harder.”

She obeyed, lashing her tongue over the tight
tip before biting harder.

He backed her toward the bed. “Don’t
stop.”

The blunt commands might have bothered her at
any other time, but this felt right. He was a hellhound, after all.
A creature of sin. He could have enough experience in debauching
women to make even the dreams she didn’t know she had come
true.

She’d only find out if she gave him
everything.

He could lay her down right now, thrust
inside her, and make her catch fire.

Jarrett clenched his jaw and tugged her head
back, pulling her mouth away from his nipple. “On the bed,
Phoebe.”

She slipped onto the smooth expanse of silken
sheets with a smile. “I like how you say my name. As if you want to
devour me.”

Oh, he was going to, and she was going to
watch. “On your elbows,” he ordered as he yanked open his belt.

Her eyebrows rose in a perfect arch, but she
obeyed. “You’re very domineering, aren’t you?”

“
Am I?” He watched her
breasts move enticingly with every breath.

“
Bossy.” She smoothed her
foot over the sheets. “It’s hot.”

Jarrett caught her leg and reached for the
top of her stocking. “You haven’t seen bossy until you’ve seen an
alpha werewolf get tetchy over what’s his. People think hellhounds
should be the same, but we’re not. We’re pretty damn
easygoing.”

She clenched her hands around the sheets and
watched him, wide-eyed. “This is easygoing?”

“
You really don’t come to
Last Call often, do you?” He peeled her stocking down her leg, off
her foot, and let it drop to the floor.

“
I’ve never come here
before.” She hesitated a moment before tilting her head. “The last
time I had sex, this bar didn’t exist.”

That was damned tragic, but
he could make up for it. Jarrett walked two fingers up the inside
of her leg. “Did he eat your pussy?” he asked casually. “It
was
a man, right? Or do
you like women too?”

Flames danced along her skin, spilling down
her body as her cheeks flushed. “The last man was
quite...traditional. In his defense, keeping me from incinerating
him took a great deal of his concentration.”

Traditional, or boring? Instead of pressing
the comparison, Jarrett reached the top of her thigh and teased his
fingers over her damp panties. “What about tonight?”

“
I’ll be very disappointed
if you’re traditional,” she whispered, lifting her hips.

He held her gaze as he curled his fingers and
rubbed his knuckle against her. “Do you want my mouth on you?”

Her breathing hitched. “Yes.
I want everything. I want to be debauched. I want to
feel
.”

“
You will.” Jarrett tugged
her to the edge of the mattress and sank to his knees beside the
bed.

Big brown eyes watched him with hunger and
anticipation. She eased her knees wider and wet her lips. “You want
me to watch?”

He rubbed the skin just above the waistband
of her panties. “Does that embarrass you?”

“
Not exactly.” Her gaze
tracked the path of his fingers as she tensed under the soft touch.
“It’s lewd, but I want that. I haven’t been truly lewd in almost a
hundred years. I admit, I’ve wondered if vices have changed since
then.”

“
Vice never changes,
sweetheart. People only like to tell themselves they’ve found new
ways to fuck.”

“
They seem more open about
it, at least.” A wicked smile curled her lips. “And the accessories
have improved. For women, at least.”

“
Have they?” Jarrett grinned
and dragged her panties and her other stocking down at once. “Tell
me more.”

“
Mmm...” Her eyes turned
dreamy. “Vibrators you can bring into the bathtub. It’s the safest
place for me to come.”

He pushed her legs wide, baring her slick,
wet pussy lips to his greedy gaze. “I bet you steam the place
up.”

She didn’t seem to hear him. Her thighs
trembled, and her breasts heaved with her quick, unsteady breaths.
“Why are you taking so long? You could be inside me already.”

True—but she’d burn hotter if he took his
time. “Because I’m going to tease you.” He traced his thumb over
her folds, down and up again, until he reached her clit—and flicked
it with a quick, rough caress.

A moan slipped free of her.
“You
are
teasing
me.”

“
Mm-hmm.” But not for long.
Jarrett leaned down and soothed her swollen, aroused flesh with
long strokes of his tongue. Her elbows slid out from under her,
spilling her upper body to the bed as her hips bucked.

Fire sparked from her fingertips, and Phoebe
whimpered. “The sheets—”

He twined his fingers with hers and redoubled
the caress. She seemed to forget about the fire as quickly as she’d
forgotten about the wards, all of her focus clearly on his mouth
and tongue. The flames from her hands curled around his arms,
crawling higher like living tattoos that left prickling heat in
their wake.

She twisted and begged
and
came
, so fast
he had to wonder how many orgasms it would take to truly sate her
need. He eased one hand free of hers and pushed one finger just
inside her entrance. “Yes?”

Her knees hit his shoulders, and her whole
body tensed. One breath. Two. Her legs shook. “Yes. Deeper.”

Her pussy gripped his finger, even tighter
when he eased a second one inside her. He pushed them as deep as he
could, then rose over her and rocked the heel of his hand against
her clit.

“
Oh
God
,” she sobbed, twisting away from
him. “Too much. I want it but I can’t, I
can’t
.”

Jarrett couldn’t release her, not until he
felt her come again. He tangled his free hand in her hair and
pulled her back. “Burn, sweetheart,” he whispered against her
mouth. “Let it go and burn for me.”

She dragged in gasping breaths. Her skin
glowed, as if liquid fire surged through her veins. “Harder.”

He could do that. He moved his hand, fucking
her with his fingers, and bent to suck her stiff nipple into his
mouth.

No more moans. She was damn near screaming
now, broken cries tangling pleas and encouragement with hungry,
desperate noises. Her fingernails sank into his shoulder and raked
across his back as she went tense beneath him, that one moment of
stillness his only warning before she exploded.

The room went up in flames as she convulsed
around his fingers. Jarrett stroked her through it, heedless of the
scorching heat. It couldn’t hurt them or anyone else, and what did
that matter anyway in the face of such absolute, unbridled
pleasure?

When the magic faded, Phoebe sprawled beneath
him, spent and trembling, her skin rapidly cooling. Little spasms
tightened her body around his fingers, the aftershocks of an orgasm
so intense she looked dazed when her eyes drifted open. “You’re not
hurt?”

Only his aching cock. “Right as rain, Phoebe.
You’re fucking gorgeous.”

She laughed, soft and lazy, and arched her
back. “I haven’t been this relaxed in decades.”

“
Good.” Relaxed meant she
wasn’t worrying anymore.

“
What about you?”

He had to laugh. “If you crawl in my lap, I
won’t turn you down.”

“
Stand up.” She pushed at
his chest as she twisted and pulled her legs under her. “It’s my
turn.”

No sane man in his position would turn down a
blow job, either. Jarrett rose and tugged at the button on his
jeans.

Phoebe shoved her disheveled hair back from
her face and took over, gently freeing his cock. “You’re still
hot,” she murmured, stroking her fingertips up his shaft. “What
will make you burn for me?”

He sucked in a breath as the touch shot up
his spine. “Suck my dick, sweetheart.” He gathered her hair in one
hand. “Find out.”

The bed was high enough that she had to bend
low, giving him a mouthwatering view of her ass. Every movement she
made seemed careful and deliberate, even when she explored the head
of his cock, swirling her tongue around it like she meant to
memorize its taste and map its shape.

One thing was obvious. “You like to tease
too, Phoebe.”

Her laugh vibrated around him a heartbeat
before she sucked hard. Wet heat, slow but firm, and Jarrett
steeled himself against the urge to tug at her hair, push into her
throat.

A moment later, it became clear she didn’t
appreciate his restraint. She raised her eyes to his and pulled
back. “If I’d wanted a gentleman, I wouldn’t have picked a
hellhound.”

“
Thought you picked me
because I won’t burn.” Though he tightened his fingers anyway and
rocked against her cheek. Silently, she parted her lips again.
Challenge sparked in her dark eyes, daring him to give in to his
basest urges.