Second Alarm (Firehouse Fourteen Book 5) Page 2

  At least, physically.

  The danger lie elsewhere. She knew, with as much certainty as she’d ever known anything before, that she wouldn’t be able to hide from Adam. That if she went upstairs with him, he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d stripped her down to her bare soul.

  Just as she knew that he’d give her the same. That she would be with him, in so many more ways than just physically.

  At least for tonight. For as long as they were together—tonight. A few hours, maybe longer. Maybe even until morning’s light. But no more than that.

  Never more than that.

  Could she do it? Could she allow herself to be laid bare for even that short amount of time?

  Her mouth dried and her pulse raced—not from fear, but from excitement. Her skin prickled with awareness, every molecule of her being springing to life with heady anticipation. She wanted to feel his body against hers. No, this was much more than want. She needed to feel it, as much as she needed to breathe.

  It made no sense. She knew that. Just like she knew that the hindsight that came with morning might paint an entirely different picture. But Beth didn’t care. Not now, not after the last nine months. Yes, she might regret all of this come morning.

  But she didn’t care.

  She drained her wine and carefully placed the empty glass on the table. Adam’s intense gaze remained focused on her as she carefully slid out of the chair and moved to stand next to him. She reached out and placed one trembling hand on his arm.

  “Never, hm? Then I think you’re definitely the right man for the job.”

  Chapter Two

  She’d never done this before. Ever.

  Adam knew that without being told. It was obvious from the way her eyes darted around the hallway as they stepped off the elevator. In the way her fingers trembled ever so slightly against his. In the way her lips tilted in a crooked smile that sent a wave of protectiveness crashing over him.

  Beth was nervous but didn’t want to let him see it. He thought of saying something to reassure her then decided against it. She was trying so hard to hide it, so hard to act like this was something she was used to. He wanted to let her think he didn’t know. If she wanted to confess once they were in the room, then fine. But that was up to her—he didn’t want to take that sense of control away from her. Any words he might offer as reassurance might do the exact opposite, so it was better not to say anything.

  Actions spoke louder than words, anyway, so it was best to let his actions do the talking. And they would, as soon as they reached his room.

  This might not be Adam’s first time—not even close. The chatroom he frequented was perfect for his needs: encounters of the purely physical kind, with no strings and no expectations. Mutual satisfaction with no regrets. And most importantly: no commitments.

  That didn’t mean he didn’t take care of his partners. He did. Yes, he was looking for release without commitment—that didn’t mean taking advantage. He was a considerate lover, had been told that more than once. And why shouldn’t he be? He loved women. Loved their bodies, loved their reactions. The way they felt, the way they smelled. He loved everything about them. So yes, he took his time. These encounters weren’t just about him. If all he wanted was a quick release, he could take care of that himself. He wanted more than that: he wanted the physical intimacy, the physical connection.

  Just no commitment.

  He’d met with several women more than once. Why not, if they were compatible? But never more than three times. That was his rule. More than that and he ran the risk of running into emotional complications. That was the last thing he wanted.

  Physical connection, yes. A relationship? Oh hell no, not even close. He saw too much shit at work, both in the field and at the station. Relationships made you vulnerable and weak. And some relationships put you through hell. He didn’t need that.

  So this was the best of both worlds, no matter what some of the guys on his shift said. Of course, the ones who gave him shit were the ones in those same hellish relationships, so what did they know?

  Not a damn thing.

  And why the fuck was he thinking about the guys at work when he was minutes away from a wonderful night with the woman walking beside him? She was beautiful, but not in the way too many men—and women—defined beautiful. Short, maybe only a few inches or more above five feet without the heels she was wearing. She had a body made for loving, with generous curves in all the right places, exactly where a woman should have them. And she didn’t try to hide them, didn’t cover herself in baggy, shapeless, drab clothes. Did she know how sexy that was? The way she dressed with such confidence? He’d be sure to tell her—to show her—tonight.

  Just like he’d show her how gorgeous he thought her hair was. Thick and dark, falling in soft waves past her shoulders. Wide expressive eyes in a color that changed with the light of her mood. Hazel, he was sure, even though he told her he wanted to discover their color later. And he did, he hadn’t been lying about that. Watching the way the color seemed to change had intrigued him.

  And her mouth. She had a beautiful mouth, almost as expressive as her eyes. Full lips that begged a man to kiss them, taste them. He’d had to fight for control every time he imagined how those lips would feel wrapped around his cock. Yeah, he definitely wanted to feel that, and hoped to hell he’d get the chance tonight.

  But he wouldn’t push for it, no matter how much he wanted it. Some women enjoyed performing oral sex, others didn’t. He had no idea which category Beth fell in.

  He’d find out soon enough.

  He pulled the key card from his front pocket and waved it in front of the door. The green light flashed with a small click and he pushed the door open, stepping out of the way to let Beth move past him. He heard her small gasp, felt the tremor that moved through her when she stopped in front of him.

  He had come up to the room earlier, to set things up and make sure everything was ready. The room was lit with the soft flickering light of a dozen different candles. Unscented, because he’d discovered that not all women enjoyed the variety of fragrances. Soft music played from the phone attached to the docking station that doubled as a clock next to the king size bed. An ice-filled stand held an open bottle of white wine. He’d taken a chance with that one and had silently breathed a sigh of relief when Beth had ordered white wine downstairs.

  She glanced around the room, her mouth slightly opened in shock, then reached up and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Adam sensed her uncertainty and offered her a small smile before moving to the stand and pulling out the bottle. He poured two glasses and walked back to her, his arm outstretched as he offered her one of the glasses.

  “You, uh, don’t take any chances, do you?”

  “Chances?” Adam looked around the room then turned back to her and shrugged. “I never considered being romantic taking a chance.”

  “I guess I never considered that a hook-up could be romantic.”

  “Why should they be mutually exclusive?”

  She opened her mouth, then closed it with a frown. Adam waited but she didn’t speak, obviously changing her mind about saying whatever she had been about to say. He stayed where he was, simply watching her as she took several nervous sips of the wine. Minutes drifted by, filled with the strains of soft music. He sensed her tension drifting away, watched as her body slowly relaxed. He stepped closer, eased the glass from her hand and placed it on the nightstand closest to him. He didn’t wait, didn’t ask permission, just reached for her hands and drew her against him. Her head tilted back and her eyes drifted closed. Was she expecting a kiss?

  Yes. But not yet.

  He wrapped one arm low around her back and laced his fingers through one of her hands, guiding it to his chest. Then he led her into a slow dance, their bodies swaying to the music. Her lids fluttered open, surprise flashing in her eyes when she looked at him. Adam simply smiled and pulled her closer as the music wrapped around them.

  Her body relaxe
d even more, the trembling in her fingers slowly disappearing as they moved in a small circle near the bed. He released her hand, pressed it against his chest in a silent demand that she not move it, then gently slid his fingers through her hair. Thick, smooth. Soft. He rubbed the silky strands between his thumb and finger, marveling at the texture. A small sigh escaped her parted lips. She closed her eyes and tilted her head to the side, exposing the smooth column of her throat. Her pulse beat against the pale skin, a steady thump thump thump that he could see even in the dim light.

  He lowered his head and pressed his lips against the fragile pulse beat. Beth stiffened in his arms, but only for a second before tilting her head further to the side. Adam tightened his arm around her, fitting her body more closely to his, and ran his lips along her neck. A shiver ran across her skin, a sigh escaping her as he kissed his way to her jaw and ear, lower to the muscled cord connecting neck and shoulder. Another shiver, this one longer as she pressed herself even closer.

  Adam pulled away and looked down at her through heavy-lidded eyes. Her face was flushed, those full lips still parted, her eyes partially closed. He ran his fingers through her hair again, the thick waves curling around his hand.

  “Are you okay?” His voice was thick and husky, a little hoarse. Her lids fluttered open, her gaze slowly meeting his. A smile curled the corners of her mouth and she slowly nodded.

  Adam answered her smile with one of his own, his fingers still stroking her hair. “If you need me to stop, just say so.”

  “I’m—” She stopped, cleared her throat. “I’m okay.”

  “Good. If there’s anything you don’t like, let me know. If there’s anything you want, let me know.”

  She nodded, her gaze darting to the open collar of his shirt before shooting back to his. The flush on her face deepened, her teeth nibbling on her full lower lip. He saw shyness he hadn’t expected to see, mixed with a hungry need. A wave of desire crashed over him but he held himself still, not wanting to scare her.

  Wanting her to tell him what she wanted.

  Her trembling fingers stroked the material of his dress shirt, tiny little circles on his chest just above the pounding of his heart. She looked away, took a deep breath that pressed the fullness of her breasts against him, then looked back.

  Still shy, still hesitant—but a little bolder, too.

  “I’d like to…” Her voice trailed off and she looked away again. Adam didn’t move, his breath held as he waited to see what she would say. If she would say anything. She took another deep breath, her gaze finally moving back to his. Her tongue darted out, swiped along her lower lip, leaving it moist and plump.

  “I—I’d like you to lose the shirt.”

  Adam released his hold on her and stepped back, then spread his arms out to the side. His gaze held hers, his silent message clear. She watched him for several long seconds, her eyes changing from light brown to a darker green. Or maybe it was just a trick of the flickering candles that made it seem her eyes were changing colors. Adam didn’t care—they were beautiful. Mesmerizing.

  Her hands reached for him, her fingers brushing against his chest as she undid the first button of his shirt. Then the second, and the third. Slow, so slow. Was she deliberately teasing him? Or was that merely hesitation? He didn’t care, not when the back of her hand brushed against the bare skin of his chest. Once, twice. Again, lower, as she pulled the hem of the shirt from his trousers and undid the last two buttons. She stepped closer, spreading his shirt wider, then lightly ran her hands over his bare flesh. Her fingers teased the light dusting of hair on his chest, traced the pale line that trailed down his abdomen. Back up, her touch less hesitant, growing bolder.

  Adam sucked in a sharp breath and closed his eyes, his jaw clenched and his head tilted back as she pressed her mouth against his heated flesh. Soft, tantalizing, her kisses trailing liquid fire along his skin.

  He shrugged out of the shirt, saw her gaze dart to his arms. She ran her hands up his chest, along the width of his shoulders and down his arms, her mouth once again raining gentle kisses on his skin.

  His cock hardened even more, throbbed almost painfully as it pushed against the zipper of his trousers. Excitement, desire. All of that and more, merely from her shy kisses and touches.

  He stepped closer, captured her face between his hands, and closed his mouth over hers. Gently at first, learning the curves of her full lips, tasting the sweetness of her mouth. He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, sighed as her mouth opened under his. Sweet, like the wine she’d had earlier. Heady and intoxicating. He deepened the kiss, explored the dark recess of her mouth, drinking in her sweetness.

  Kissing, never stopping, losing himself in her taste and touch.

  He trailed his finger along her face, across her jaw and throat. Lower, tracing the outline of her collarbone, her shoulder. Down along her side, to the swell of one full breast, lower to the flare of her rounded hip. Back up, catching the hem of her sweater in his fist and dragging it up. His knuckles grazed soft flesh, warm and smooth; brushed against the silky lace encasing her breasts.

  He broke the kiss, his gaze holding hers as he pulled the sweater over her head and tossed it to the side. Her hands came up, trying to cover herself as he drank in the sight of creamy flesh hidden by dark green lace. He grabbed her hands, pulled them away and caught her gaze once more.

  “Let me look.”

  Her teeth pulled at her lower lip, her expression shy and uncertain once more. She finally nodded, the barest movement of her head. In answer to him, or to herself? It didn’t matter, not when the tension eased from her body.

  Adam offered her a small smile then let his gaze drift across her body, down to the creamy fullness of her breasts. The points of her nipples pressed against the lace, hardening even more under his gaze. He released her hands, traced the delicate collarbone with one finger, ran it down to the swell of her breast. The lace of her bra teased the pad of his finger, a contradiction from the smoothness of plump flesh above the scalloped edge. Back and forth, smooth skin and textured lace, a difference that somehow enthralled him.

  He brushed his thumb against the hardened peak of her nipple, his cock tightening in response to her small gasp. Her body stiffened, relaxed once more as he continued stroking the tight bud. His hand cupped the fullness of her breast, its weight filling his palm. He slid his finger along the edge of her bra once more, dipped it between the deep valley of her cleavage before moving to the other breast.

  Her chest rose and fell with each breath, shorter and faster as he continued to learn the weight and feel of each breast. He reached for her hands, led her to the bed and lowered himself to the edge and positioned her so she was standing between his legs. His gaze met hers, held it for the space of several rapid heartbeats. Then he leaned forward and pressed his mouth against her, his tongue teasing the hardened peak through the lace.

  She gasped again, the sound short and sharp. Her hands reached out, tangled in his hair, holding him in place. He smiled, pulled the nipple deeper into his mouth, sucking harder. She gasped again, her hips gently thrusting forward with each pull.

  “You like that?”

  “Yes.” The answer was nothing more than a breathy sigh, filled with a need and hunger that caused his cock to ache. He grabbed the edges of lace and pulled them down over her breasts, exposing the creamy fullness to his sight, his touch.

  He wrapped his hands around each breast, closed his mouth over one nipple, and feasted on her taste. Sucking, nibbling, each little gasp sending flames of desire through his tight body.

  He dragged his hand along her side, across the flare of full, shapely hips, down further to the hem of her skirt. He dipped his hand inside, ran his palm up along the flesh of her inner thigh. Higher, higher still. He expected to feel the rough texture of lace covering her. Instead, he found bare flesh. Smooth, soft, supple. Hot and wet.

  Adam groaned at the heat pressed against his hand. He sucked harder on her nipple, teas
ing the tight bud with tongue and teeth as he ran his finger along her clit. She moaned, pressed her hips into his touch, her hands fisting in his hair.

  He gave her nipple one long pull then leaned back, watching her as he stroked the sensitive flesh between her legs. Her head was tilted back, her eyes closed, her mouth parted. Her chest rose and fell with each breath, her hips rocking against his touch.

  “Take your skirt off for me. Let me see you.”

  Her lids fluttered open, her eyes glazed as she looked down at him. Hesitation flashed in their depths, the shyness returning. But only for a second. She stepped away, reached behind her to undo the zipper of the skirt. Her thumbs dipped into the waistband, her gaze darting back to his as she hesitated again.

  Then she pushed the skirt over her hips, the material sliding past her thighs to pool in a puddle at her feet. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, her gaze steady on his, then kicked the skirt away.

  Adam’s gaze wandered over her body, drinking in every inch of flushed skin. The heavy fullness of her breasts, still encased in green lace. The gentle swell of her abdomen. The flare of full hips and creamy thighs and shapely calves. A woman’s body, ripe and enchanting, designed for carnal feasting.

  His gaze traveled back up, met hers again. He offered her a smile of silent appreciation then reached out and traced the flare of her hip with his palm. Lower, moving between her legs, cupping her bare pussy.

  “Delectable.” His voice was thick, husky, filled with need. He swallowed back a groan as her hips moved against his hand, her legs parting for him.

  Adam dropped to his knees, wrapped one arm around her hips, and pressed his mouth against her wet heat. So fucking wet. So fucking hot.

  So fucking sweet.

  He slid one finger inside her, felt her muscles tighten around him as he ran his tongue along her clit. She sighed, the sound sharp and needy as her fingers dug into his shoulders. Her hips thrust again, faster, as he plunged his finger into her. Deeper. In, out. His tongue stroked her, faster, matching the rhythm of her thrusts.