Siren-epub (3 page)

At that moment, sheer force of will was all that had kept him upright.  He needed to get her somewhere private.  Fast.  Because all he could think about was sinking to his knees - in record time – diving into her sweet pussy and pleasuring her like he’d never pleasured another. 

Oh, yeah.  Now that was what he was talking about.

A hush fell over the crowd as Jenna stood stock still, imagining a hard-bodied Dean standing stark naked in the doorway, sinewy muscles flexed, bronzed flesh glistening with perspiration and desire…
for her.
 

“Damn you, Megan,” she whispered under her breath while she visualized the crowd naked.  Well, not the whole crowd, just one man in particular, actually. 

Moisture pooled between her thighs as her lascivious body beckoned Dean’s from across the room.  Although she tried to stay focused on the task at hand, the man simply drove her to distraction.  She became totally preoccupied by his blatant masculinity and how he’d managed to turn her from a business-woman into a libidinous slut in record time. 

He stood there, leaning against the doorjamb and looking like sex incarnate.  Flustered, Jenna folded her arms across her chest and diligently tried to blink away the delectable image of that lethally honed body stripped naked, hers for the taking. 

Shifting from one leg to the other, she bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, wondering if he could see her aroused nipples.

With a roomful of people watching, she knew she really needed to pull herself together.  But how could she possibly strut around half-naked while her pussy throbbed for the man standing across the room, looking so damn sexy he made her mouth water. 

Her eyes traveled up his body and met his glance.  He gave her a look that suggested he knew her every little secret, her every fantasy, and he was more than capable of fulfilling them.  Her mind raced, conjuring last night’s sexual solo act while she pictured him doing just that. 

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, wanting nothing more than for Dean to take her upstairs, turn the lights out, and rid her of the unnecessary barrier of clothes separating skin from skin, while he took charge of her pleasures and indulged in every sinful fantasy she had.  A burst of heat coiled through her and warmed her body from the inside out.  She could feel color crawl up her neck and stain her cheeks. 

A noise in the crowd brought her attention back around to the task at hand.  She summoned every ounce of control she had and forced her rubbery legs to move. 

With her professional demeanor somewhat back in place, she strived for normalcy and sashayed across the floor, showcasing the sexy red negligee.  Unfortunately, knowing Dean was in such close proximity proved too much of a distraction.

Her legs quivered, her skin came alive, and her vision went a little fuzzy around the edges.  She exhaled slowly and willed the room to stop spinning.  One more piece to go and then she could get the hell out of her revealing new line and back into her business suit before she did something telltale, like throw herself at Dean and really make an ass of herself.  The truth was, the man had never even given her a second glance since she arrived in Chicago.  Obviously she wasn’t even his type.  He probably gravitated more toward women with long, lithe figures – toward someone like Kate Saunders, the lingerie model.  Undoubtedly she’d be his perfect complement. 

Unable to help herself, she cast him another glance.  Sensual overload set her loins on fire and gave her pause.  When she tried to resume her pace, her legs failed her miserably. 

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, the room turned upside down, and she wobbled in her too-high heels.  Arms flailing, Jenna shrieked and reached for something concrete to grasp on to, refusing to embarrass herself further.  What she didn’t expect was for that
something
to be
someone
. 

“Whoa,” Dean said, catching her before she fell to the floor.  One strong arm slipped around her back and pinned her body to his.  Densely packed muscles pressed against her breasts and made her nipples tingle and tighten in euphoric bliss.  As she tried to right herself, her hands automatically snaked around his neck like a scarf and her fingers burned as they touched his bronzed flesh. 

Cradled in his muscular arms, she shifted, until the two of them were joined hip to hip.  She could hardly believe how good his rock-solid body felt wrapped around hers, how good their groins felt mashed together.  Suddenly, her mind raced with indecent thoughts.  Thoughts like how the only thing’s separating her passion-drenched pussy from his cock were a measly pair of jeans and a thin pair of silky panties.  She shuddered involuntarily. 

He pitched his voice low, his eyes turned serious, his tone genuine.  “Are you okay?” 

He dipped his head, bringing his mouth to within a hairbreadth of hers.  His warm, strawberry soaked breath caressed her cheeks and aroused all her senses.  With just one tiny flick of her tongue, she’d be able to taste those sensuous lips of his and finally discover if he tasted as good as he looked. 

His hand connected with the small of her back, intimately.  His warmth seeped under her skin, burning her body from the inside out.  She felt like a wild animal in heat, and her skin broke out in moisture, as goose bumps pebbled her flesh. 

Jenna knew she needed to disentangle herself before one of the other firefighters in the room grabbed an extinguisher and hosed her down. 

Groaning, she straightened and stepped back, removing herself from the circle of Dean’s arms.  She drew a rejuvenating breath and worked to banish her lascivious thoughts. 

She tried to keep her voice steady but her words spilled out like a leaky faucet.  “Yes, yes, I’m fine.  Just lost my footing for a second.  Must be my new shoes.  Thanks.  Thanks so much.” 

Dammit, woman, stop babbling. 

She stepped back and wobbled on her heels again, completely overwhelmed by his intimate touch and the way it filled her with heat. 

Dean made a swift move, gripped her elbow, and hauled her to him, once again joining them chest to chest, hip to hip.  His nearness made her breathless and melted her brain cells.  Never in her entire life had she felt such powerful sexual stirrings. 

His hand slid down her back and hauled her impossibly closer.  His corded muscles were bunched, and his gaze flew to her face.  She glimpsed a fierce protectiveness in his dark eyes before they softened and locked on hers.  “Are you sure you’re okay?”  When he furrowed his brow with professional concern, her insides went all gooey, like a warm chocolate chip cookie straight out of the oven.  “Maybe I should check that ankle.”  He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, and in that instant, something deep in her soul told her that not only was Dean the kind of guy who’d take charge of a woman’s pleasure, but he’d be eager for it too. 

Reminding herself she had a captive audience watching her every move, she drew a sharp breath and locked her knees to avoid collapsing. 

“I’m okay,” she whispered with effort, her hands falling to her sides.  She rolled her ankle to prove her point.  “Nothing broken.”

When Dean leaned forward, his hot breath caressed her neck.  Heat and desire ambushed her pussy and scattered her ability to form a coherent thought.

“You sure?  You look a little flushed.”

The deep timbre of his voice flustered her even more, and his raw virility did the craziest things to her libido.  Since a reply was beyond her ability at the moment, she simply nodded her head in response. 

He brushed his thumb over her cheek.  “I have to go,” he said, his voice deep and sensuous.  “I’ll be at the firehouse.” 

Why was he telling her that?  Damn, if only she could think straight, if only she could breathe.  “Okay,” she whispered, thrilled to find her voice still functioning. 

His grin appeared slowly, looked sexy.  His voice was like a rough whisper.  “If you have any other emergencies, Jenna, I’m your man.” 

Emergencies?  What other emergencies did he expect her to have?  And why was he telling her this?  And how could he expect her to think straight when he let her name roll off his tongue like that?  Like he was tasting it, savoring it. 

She opened her mouth to ask what constituted an emergency and why he thought she was clumsiness personified, but then slammed her mouth shut, answering her own unasked questions.  After she’d been stumbling around like a bumbling idiot all week, it was no wonder he expected more emergencies.  And with all the candles burning around the room, he probably expected her to set the house ablaze. 

With a suggestive edge to his smile, he said, “You know the number.”  Dean stepped back and disappeared around the corner, out of her line of vision.

Number?  What number?

Before she had a chance to comprehend Dean’s parting words, Megan stepped up beside her, grabbed her hand, and squeezed.  “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.”  Jenna nodded toward the floor.  “It’s these damn new shoes.  The heel must be loose or something.”

Megan grinned like the Cheshire cat.  “The shoes, huh?” she asked, tossing her a knowing smile. 

Jenna furrowed her brow, annoyed at her friend’s perceptiveness.  “Yeah, the shoes,” she bit out.  Without giving Megan the chance to press for more information, Jenna tugged on her hand and said hastily, “Come on.  I have one more outfit to go and then I’m going to bury myself under a rock.” 

“Don’t worry about it, Jenna.  I think Dean has that effect on all women.  Every chicky in that room wanted to be rescued by him.”  As Jenna ushered her down the hallway, Megan cast a glance over her shoulder.  “And all those other women in there are married.”

When they stepped into the bedroom, Jenna reached for the last piece in the line, a sexy red bustier, and wondered why she found the thoughts of Dean with another woman so disconcerting. 

Damn him.

Blocking those thoughts from her mind, she turned her back to Megan, removed the negligee, and pressed the bustier to her chest.  “Can you help me tie this?”

Megan stepped up behind her and tied the silky lace bindings together.  Tight.

Jenna took shallow breaths and fidgeted.  “Not so tight.  I can hardly breathe.  Can you loosen it?”

“We don’t want it to fall off.”  Megan stepped back without honoring Jenna’s request, despite her labored breaths.

Jenna fanned her face.  “We also don’t want me to pass out from lack of oxygen.”

Megan pulled the door open, and with a wave, urged Jenna to join her in the hall.  “Come on, you look gorgeous.  One strut around the room and then I’ll get you out of this.”

Unfortunately, one strut around the room became thirty minutes later.  Once Jenna finished the show, and before she had time to get changed, she was bombarded with questions and orders.  After covering her body with a long cotton robe, she easily slipped into professional mode and discussed business with other industry professionals. 

As the crowd dwindled away, she went in search of her friends, needing desperately to get out of the constricting bustier.  She found Megan, Cassie, and Sara in the kitchen, all gathered around the delicious looking fruit and veggie trays. 

She crooked her finger at Megan, gesturing for her to follow.  “Can you help me?”

Arms wrapped around Nick’s waist, Cassie piped in.  “Great show, Jenna.  We’re all going to head to
The Hose
for a celebration and a game of pool.  As soon as you get changed we’ll go.” 

As Jenna took in the loving couple, a burst of envy whipped through her and caught her off guard.  Whoa, that came out of nowhere.  Especially since Jenna had never thought about love or long term relationships before.  Okay, so maybe she had thought about it a time or two, or a billion, but she’d always tamped down those thoughts and turned her attention to her career.  And the truth was, the self-absorbed men in her small hometown were far from marriage material.

Marshaling her emotions, Jenna crinkled her nose.  “You all go ahead.  I need to do a bit of paperwork first, and then I’ll catch up with you.”  Jenna turned her attention to Megan and ruffled the lapels of her robe.  “Can you help me get out of this thing?” 

Megan waved her hand.  “Go ahead.  I’ll be right there.”  She popped a chocolate-dipped strawberry into her mouth and reached for another.  Jenna eyed the fruit tray, her stomach grumbling from hunger, reminding her she’d skipped dinner in her quest to perfect her lingerie display.  Not that she could swallow anything now, with the damn bustier still on.  It’d likely get stuck in her windpipe. 

As Jenna moved down the hallway, her thoughts returned to Dean, as she recalled the way her body had reacted so easily, so readily to him.  It amazed her that she craved him with a fierce intensity unlike anything she’d ever felt before.  Out of nowhere a shiver prowled through her and tingled all the way to her toes, reminding her she was a woman with needs.

And fantasies… 

She slipped into the bedroom, secured the door behind her, and flicked on her bedside lamp.  In search of a loose-fitting outfit while she awaited Megan’s rescue, she rifled through her closet, but the sound of an engine roaring to life in the driveway drew her attention.  Jenna took two measured steps toward her window and peered out just in time to see her friends pile into a car and disappear down the driveway.

Eyes wide in disbelief, she banged on the glass pane.  “Dammit, Megan.”  How could her friends have forgotten about her, leaving her there to expire from lack of oxygen? 

Jenna hastily crossed the room, grabbed her suitcase and flung it onto her bed.  The old bedsprings grated and made an ungodly sound.  She tore through her supplies in search of her trusty sewing kit.  If she couldn’t get the damn bustier untied, she’d cut herself out of it.  After a thorough search turned up nothing, she angled her head and glanced at her nightstand, to the spot where she’d left her cell phone.  When her gaze settled on a small white business card, her pulse leapt into gear and her libido roared to life.