Vital Signs (7 page)

They set out on foot. At lunchtime the sidewalks were busy with pedestrians but it felt good to move. And to be at Corey’s side. As they passed several women, they looked at him closer. Sarita drifted so near him that their shoulders bumped.

He smiled down at her. Her breath caught. The sunlight highlighted the glow that had come back into his face. If she didn’t know that underneath his tight T-shirt an angry, pink, barely-healed wound lived on his chest, she’d never guess it.

“Where are we going?” she asked, skirting a group of businessmen standing in front of a restaurant. Two looked at her as she passed, but she ignored them.

“I was thinking how great a taco sounds. What do you think?”

“Oh yes! I know the perfect food truck. It parks off—”

“Cherrywood Avenue,” he finished, his eyes sparking a deep need inside her.

She nodded, barely able to breathe again. The way he’d taken control by shoving her against those lockers and fingering her pussy…

“It’s the best place to get a taco in town.” His words roused her from her imaginings.

“Their tamales are even better
.
”

He gave her a skeptical look.

“It’s true, trust me. Besides, you haven’t had my
mami’s
tacos. The heat level is…” She kissed her fingertips and let her fingers splay apart to indicate it was the best food.

“Tell me more about this family of yours. We’ve known each other for two months and I don’t feel we’ve actually spoken about anything personal.”

That’s because you’re always looking like a storm cloud is hanging over your head.
The thought almost made her smile, but she bit it back. Men were mostly the same when it came to being laid up with an injury or being sick. They acted like angry beasts. She’d learned well what to do by taking care of her father during his difficult times. Feed them, keep them distracted. It had worked with Corey and he’d gotten through.

She didn’t want to take all the credit for his healing, but she did believe if left to his own devices that he might have sunk into a depression and not be standing here ten weeks out.

“My mother and two sisters are still in the Dominican Republic. My hope is to earn enough to bring them here so they can get a start.”

“Younger sisters?”

“Yes, my middle sister dreams of becoming an EMT.” The pride wouldn’t stay out of her voice, so she didn’t even try. It was a huge honor that her little sister wanted to walk in her footsteps. And Sarita would do anything in her power to help her reach her goal.

“Very nice. But she has big shoes to fill. Her older sister is one of the best I’ve seen.”

“You haven’t seen me in action.”

“I saw it firsthand.”

Sarita tossed her head back and laughed, aware of how Corey tracked her movements. “You were so blinded by pain you probably don’t remember me at all.”

“I remember you,” he said solemnly.

Their shoulders bumped again, and he grabbed her hand. Enclosing it in his big one and drawing her through another group of people on a corner. When they popped out the other side, the food truck stood on the corner with a long line in front of it.

That was good—it gave them more time to talk. She liked this side of her firefighter.

“And your youngest sister? What will she do once you bring her here?”

“Hopefully she’ll finish school. Where I come from, girls don’t have a chance to go to school as long. They have to work and support themselves and the family. See, my father died two years ago from cancer. Ever since, my family’s struggled to keep food on the table and a roof over their heads.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He drew her to a stop at the back of the line and turned to stare into her eyes with genuine concern.

She nodded to accept his condolences and then said, “I hope my sister can return to school for a few years and then find something she’s passionate about doing for a living.”

“I see that you go above and beyond in everything you set your mind to, Sarita.” They inched forward in the line, but he didn’t take his gaze off her.

They discussed what to order and Sarita convinced him to try a tamale. When they had their food in hand, he gestured with a flick of his jaw toward the park. As they strolled, they talked. Sarita laughed as some of the contents of her tamale flew out and landed at their feet.

“I’m sorry. Eating while talking is difficult for me because I talk with my hands.”

They shared a grin. “Let’s sit and finish. But I’d like to walk some more. It feels good to move,” he said.

They took a seat on the cement base of a monument and polished off their tamales. Afterward, the breeze carried another burst of fresh sea on it, and Sarita let her eyes close while she inhaled.

When she opened her eyes, he was leaning close, his lips a scant breath from hers. “Closing your eyes that way reminds me of when you came apart for me.” His rough tone stroked her senses.

Before she could think of all the times she’d longed to kiss him but held back because he wasn’t in any state to do so, she surged forward. Their lips collided with a force that rocked her. Dark need slashed through her.

As their tongues tangled and he half-pulled her into his lap, her mind latched onto one thing—how right this was.

Ripping away, he glared down at her, panting. “You make me lose all control when I’m with you.”

“That’s good, right? You still have two weeks before you have to be a hundred-percent focused on the job.”

He shook his head and let her drop back to her seat on the cement. “No, Sarita. I’m working now. I wasn’t at the firehouse just visiting.”

“Is it the investigation?” she asked quietly. The carefree man who’d walked and talked and shared tamales with her seemed to be hiding like the sun behind a cloud.

“Yes.” His low tone didn’t invite her to ask more.

“Can I do anything to help?” She knew as soon as the words were out that he’d react badly to them. She wasn’t wrong.

His dark brows drew downward and his mouth tightened. “No, you stay out of it. And stay out of East Street. I can’t trust some of those guys.”

Reaching out, she traced the bracket around the corner of his mouth. “I can speak to who I like, but you only need to tell them that you’re with me and I bet they don’t cross any lines.”

He stood quickly. “We’re not together.”

She stood too. There was only so much of this she’d put up with but her gut instincts told her that as soon as they were in bed together, he’d change his mind. She just had to get him there.

“Okay, so you won’t mind if I invite somebody else to my bed. I’ve been holding out for a certain grouchy firefighter but he obviously isn’t interested.”

“Dammit, Sarita.” He grabbed her around the waist and hauled her against him again. Right where she wanted to be. “You drive me crazy, you know that? I fucking want you. Feel that?” He took her hand and ground it against the bulge in his jeans. At the thickness under her palm, her pussy squeezed with want.

“I feel it, Corey, but not where I need it most. I’ll text you my address and you can decide if you want to stake your claim. Or maybe you’ll be too worn out after chasing an arsonist around the city to come by.”

“I don’t need to chase him. I’m going to trap him.”

Her heart plummeted to the soles of her wedge sandals. His idea was something for the FBI or a special ops force. This guy was dangerous and Corey shouldn’t be playing with this fire.

But judging from the determined glint in his eyes, mirroring steel, he was going through with his plan.

“Corey, I—”

Before the idea materialized into words, he kissed her. Dragging her onto tiptoe to plunder her mouth until she was boneless. Many more seconds and she wouldn’t be able to support her weight. But he released her slowly, stroking her hair back off her face and searching her gaze.

“I’ll be over after your shift, angel. And believe me, I have enough energy to make you very, very satisfied.”

With that, he turned and walked away, his step strong and sure and his shoulders straight. She leaned against the monument and tried to get her bearings. The man sent her spinning, that was certain. And she was beginning to wonder if she weren’t in for a bad ride. Having a sexy firefighter who put his life on the line daily was one thing, but one who was so set on sneaking past the crime scene tape and finding the arsonist on his own? That was crazy.

Maybe her
mami
was right—Sarita needed to remember to stand on her own and not invite a man into her life.

But when she thought about Corey showing up at her door, a new fire kindled low in her belly. She’d never turn him away.

Just standing in front of Sarita’s door made Corey’s already hard cock throb. Knowing she was expecting him was a mind-fuck that he wouldn’t ever get enough of. The wanting between them had crossed a line today. Or maybe he at last felt worthy of acting on what he’d been feeling for weeks.

He hadn’t been lying when he’d told her he had enough energy to make her very, very satisfied.

He rapped on her door and waited. His pulse pounded. When had he last felt an adrenaline rush like this?
The day I went into that burning house after a dog.

When the door swung open, his eyes bulged as he skated his gaze over her itty bitty red bra and matching panties.

“Jesus, angel.” He kicked the door shut behind him and grabbed her. He had to put his hands on her silky brown skin. She twined her arms around his neck and went on tiptoe to kiss him.

His mind barely wrapped around what was happening. He’d never received such a greeting in his life, and Sarita had just upped the stakes. She’d gone after what she wanted, which was a huge turn-on.

With a growl, he cupped her round ass and hitched her against his cock. When his hands touched bare skin and he realized she wore a thong, he bit off a roar. “Fuck, you’re so hot and ready for me.”

“I’ve been waiting weeks for this moment.”

He stared into her dark eyes for a heartbeat before claiming her lips. Long, deep kisses filled with raging hormones. He felt like a teenager with his first girlfriend. He needed to gain some control before he embarrassed himself.

But she wasn’t letting him take it slow. She plucked at his shirt, tugging it up his chest until he had to break the kiss in order to let her remove it. When their chests touched, she issued a soft mewl of need.

Skin to skin felt so good. He couldn’t get close enough. Kissing her again, he ran his hands over her body from rounded ass to hips, dipping waist, and finally up her torso to cradle her breasts. She arched into his touch, rocking her hips against his erection too.

“Fuck. Your nipples are as hard as diamonds.”

“Suck them. I need them sucked.”

Her command snapped something inside him and he had a fear it was the last thread of his control. He pinched them through her bra, aware that no padding stood between him and those delectable treats. Sliding his hand to her spine, he located her bra clasp and popped it.

When her breasts spilled into his hands, he tore his mouth from hers again and dipped his head to suck one brown, stiff tip into his mouth. Need surged through him. His cock stretched another fraction. If he didn’t get inside her soon, he’d be a goner.

He clasped her ass and lifted her. She spun her legs around his sides, her hot mouth on his neck as he worked on her nipples. Licking, sucking. When she tugged on the hair at his nape, his teeth accidentally grazed her taut bud.

She cried out. “God, yes. More!”

He went still. It hadn’t been his imagination—she liked it rough. Craved it even.

With a grunt, he took two steps to her sofa and lay her down. Without hesitation, he hit his knees at the side of the sofa and moved her so he could suck her breasts at the same time he searched out those silky pubic curls again. When he stroked them, she bucked upward. Clenching her nipples between his teeth, he eased his fingers over her soft outer lips. Just exploring her while tormenting her by sucking her breasts.

She pushed her pussy into his hand, and his finger slid along her seam. Juices coated his digit, and he groaned in response. “So fucking wet for me.”

“I need your fingers buried deep in my pussy.” Her breathless plea unraveled him. Staring into her shining eyes, he plunged two fingers deep without warning. She cried out, her inner walls flexing around his invasion.

“Like this?” His heart was going to hammer out of his ribcage.

A garbled cry left her, and he took it to be a yes. She bit her lower lip, thrashing against his hand. He let her take what she needed for a moment before he could stand it no more.

He took control. Pinching her nipple hard as he probed her pussy deep. Finger-fucking her with hard thrusts, the heel of his hand tapping her swollen clit every time. He saw her rising as well as felt it. A flush coated her breasts, neck, and beautiful face.

“Come apart for me, angel. While you’re still coming for me, I’ll slide my cock into your wet pussy.”

“Corey!” There it was—that rolling R sounding less like English than ever. He squeezed her other nipple and watched her lips open in an O of bliss.

When she started to come, he refused to look away from her. Her breasts jiggled as he fucked her hard with his fingers, her head thrown back and a ragged cry torn from her throat.

His need compounded with every pulsation of her pussy around his fingers. He barely pulled his hand free to deal with his clothing and a condom when she took over for him, plunging her fingers into her own body.

Rattled that she was such a sexual being, he could only gaze down at her through hooded eyes as he ripped off his boots, jeans, boxers, and socks. When he stood in the buff and had a condom in hand, she looked into his eyes, a crease of need between her brows. As if frustrated that she couldn’t reach the high she was seeking.

He pulled her hand free, holding her gaze while he sucked her fingers clean. When she shivered uncontrollably, he moved her into a sitting position. Her hair tumbled over her bare shoulders, and he couldn’t resist bundling the mass into one fist.