Dallas Fire & Rescue_Stealing his Fire Page 8

  He rolled, tipping her head back, giving him access to her fabulous mouth and sweet tongue. The taste of wine lingered on her lips, intoxicating his mind.

  Her warm hands slipped under his shirt, gently massaging his back and shoulders. Any tentativeness she had, seemed to disappear with each stroke of his tongue. He knew he’d have to hold back and let her lead, and that was fine with him.

  His only reservation was what this experience would do to him when whatever feelings she had fizzled like a sparkler winding down to the end. He’d always been the kind of man that fell hard for a woman. He loved liked he lived: with passion and fierce loyalty.

  That netted him a broken heart and a divorce.

  Well, to be fair, his heart had been broken more than once.

  He roamed her backside, including her ass, squeezing, enjoying the moan vibrating from her mouth to his. Normally, he would roll over on top of her, but he didn’t think putting his body or weight on her would be a good idea. He wanted to reassure her that he’d never hold her down, even figuratively.

  Shifting to his back, he pulled her on top of him, her legs straddling him. Her body glided over his like a gently crashing wave.

  She sat up and whipped off her shirt. He’d barely gotten a good look at her pink lacy bra that pushed her breasts together before she shed that as well, tossing it across the floor.

  Digging his fingers into her ass, he did everything he could to maintain control, when all he wanted to do was flip her on her back and devour every inch of her until she collapsed from pure pleasure.

  He raised up, kissing the underswell of her perfect small mounds, making his way to her tight nipple. He had to hold her hips tight, keeping her steady, because if she moved, he might really turn into a teenage boy and it would be over before it began.

  Her hands glided through his hair, encouraging him take more.

  He didn’t hesitate. Her body’s every curve fit perfect against his, but for the first time in a very long while, he had no idea how to proceed. He wanted her to feel loved and worshiped, but agonized on how to do that without it putting her in a position where’d she’d feel vulnerable.

  She eased his shirt over his head, forcing him to release her nipple, something he could have played with all night, if that was what she wanted.

  On his back, with her chest against his, her tongue in his mouth swirling feverishly, he slipped his hands into her shorts, surprised to find she had on no panties. He curled his fingers over the bottom of her ass.

  “Maybe we should remove the rest of our clothing,” she whispered, her breath heated his neck as she nibbled on his ear.

  He groaned. “I think that’s a fabulous idea.”

  Gracefully, she scooted to the edge of the bed before standing.

  He tried not to act like a horny toad as he pushed most of the pillows to the floor and shoved the sheets to the foot of the bed, all while watching her slowly undo the button…zipper…then rolling them over her hips…

  Standing at the foot of the bed, with his mouth hanging open, he stared at her naked body. Her hips curved out from her tiny waist. Her skin glittered like a rainbow. His feet couldn’t move him fast enough across the room. He frowned the second she raised her thumb to her mouth. He took her hand and kissed it.

  “I’ll never hurt you,” he whispered, leaning down and kissing her cheek. “I don’t know what to do to make you believe me.” Wrapping his arms around her body, gliding his fingers gently over her skin, he continued to brush his lips on her neck, ear, and cheek, until he took her mouth with purpose, commanding the kiss with fierce strokes. He tried to be as passionate as he could without ravishing her like it would be the last time he ever made love to a woman.

  Her nails dug into his skin, scratching down his shoulder blades, causing him to arch as they reached his lower back. Before he had a chance to catch his breath, her deft, little fingers had undone his pants and he was kicking out of them, groaning, feeling a warm grip around his…

  “Whoa,” he said, followed by a guttural groan that came out more like a growl. Slinking his fingers around her wrist, he removed her hand. His chest heaved up and down with his raspy breath. “Let me enjoy you first or I might end up leaving you unsatisfied.”

  Her smile beamed across her face and her eyes twinkled liked the northern lights leading him home.

  Laying her on the bed, he roamed her body with his hands and mouth, trying to taste every inch of her sweet skin. She responded to him with deep moans. Her fingers ran through his hair, then down along his shoulders. He shuddered with every glide of her nails on his body.

  Satisfied he’d savored her skin, he traced a line from her bellybutton, to her warmth, his tongue following. She tasted like finest lobster tail drenched in warm butter. Heat raced through his bloodstream, creating the kind of fire that no one could put out.

  Ever.

  As long as she was near, it would burn inside him.

  “Rowan…stop,” she whispered.

  He jerked his head up, catching her gaze. “Did I hurt you?”

  A slow smile formed on her lips. “No, I just want something else right now.” She cupped his face, tugging at him to lie on top of her.

  A thought that terrified him.

  He tried shifting to his back so she could be on top, but she would have nothing to do with it.

  “Like this,” she murmured in his ear, her legs wrapping around his thighs.

  Raised up on his elbows, he stared into her smoky eyes. As much as he worried making love to her with his full-weight on her would cause a chain reaction of feeling as though she’d been pinned down and trapped…

  He’d do whatever she asked.

  Biting down on his lower lip, he entered her slowly, keeping the bulk of his weight on his elbows.

  Her eyelids fluttered and her back arched, demanding more of him.

  A wave of dizziness washed over him like a hurricane pushing a palm tree. She continued to grind her hips against him, coaxing him deep insider her until his resolve snapped. He took her mouth with more force than he intended, but her tongue readily greeted his with fury. He matched his thrusts with every move of her hips, his toes curling, trying desperately to hold off until her body rocked with pure delight.

  He didn’t have to wait long as she jerked her mouth from his, moaning his name, her heels digging into the back of his knees. Her insides clenched him so tight as her body shuddered he’d lost all control, slamming deep into her over and over again, until a growl vibrated from his throat as he spilled into her, wave after glorious wave.

  His biceps shook from a combination of keeping his weight off her and the intense climax that rippled through his system. So intense that he ignored the fact the condom he’d brought over was still in his wallet.

  His movements slowed as his breathing returned to something that could be considered normal. He fanned his thumbs over her high cheekbones. Her body relaxed as she blinked open her eyes.

  Her smile sucker-punched his heart, his mind, his soul.

  Tenderly, he kissed her lips before rolling to his side. He found the sheet and comforter and covered their bodies before wrapping his arms around her, holding her as tight as he could without crushing her.

  His hands caressed the skin on her arms and he kissed her forehead more than once. Her arm and leg draped over him like the sun warmed the beach.

  Not only did he have it bad for her.

  But this one night ruined him forever.

  He’d never want another woman again.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “I’m perfect,” she murmured.

  Boy was he going to ruin perfection. “We didn’t use protection.” No point in beating around the bush.

  Her body stiffened for a second before her fingers continued dancing across his chest. “I’m on the pill and clean.”

  “I’m clean, but not on the pill, so hopefully you didn’t knock me up.”

  His statement got a soft slap across his p
eck. He chuckled, shifting her body so he could spoon her. Her body molded against his as if she were the final piece of a puzzle.

  Chapter 9

  THE TICKLE OF ROWEN’S rhythmic breathing against Heather’s cheek lulled her into a magical world where little girls found their knight in shining armor, and they rode off into the sunset to live a peaceful life filled with…

  Yeah, because fairytales came true.

  Life wasn’t a fairytale.

  With that thought, she knew Rowen certainly was a prince. He’d been the most unselfish lover she’d ever had. He made her feel more like a woman than any man she’d ever dated.

  She closed her eyes, taking in a deep breath, letting it out slowly. She had no idea how she’d feel in the morning, but she wasn’t going to ask Rowen to leave. Sleeping with a man all night hadn’t been something she thought much of, especially since she hadn’t anticipated on wanting to have sex with one anytime soon.

  Oh, and how concerned he’d been about being on top of her. Oy. Yep. Prince. Knight in shining armor.

  But was he hers?

  She pushed the idea right out of her mind and focused on drifting off into a peaceful sleep.

  Her mind pulled in all sorts of sweet images from fields of lilacs to the hum of an engine on the lake. She had no idea how long she'd slept, but a loud siren screeched from across the room, jolting her from a dream where she and Rowen walked the beach hand in hand.

  “Fuck,” Rowen muttered as he jumped from the bed.

  She’d pulled the covers to her chin, her body trembling from the unwanted noise. “What the hell is that?” She blinked her eyes, focusing on the clock across the room. The glow of the red numbers, five o three, cast an eerie light on the dresser.

  Ugh. More than an hour before she needed to get up.

  “Work.” Rowen managed to turn off the hideous noise, then sat back down on the edge of the bed. “My phone is always set to silence at night, except for the department. I have to go in. There’s a four-alarm fire and they need all hands-on deck.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not.” He twisted his torso, leaning toward her, giving her a quick kiss. “I’m sorry, honey. I have to go.”

  “I understand.” She admired his toned body as he quickly gathered his clothes and dressed. She might have understood, but she didn’t want him to go. “Can you text or call me later, just so I know you’re okay?” Well, crap, that sounded like a ball and chain thing to say.

  “Promise.” He yanked his shirt down, tucking it into his pants. “It might not be for a while, but as soon as I can, I’ll text you.” He sat on the edge of the bed, looping his strong arms around her. “Don’t worry.”

  “Right, because running into a burning building isn’t dangerous at all.”

  He kissed her temple. “I’ll be safe. Talk to you soon.”

  She clutched the sheet up to her chin as she watched him disappear from her bedroom. There was no point in going back to sleep, but she didn’t want to get out of bed, considering it still smelled like Rowen. Turning on the television, she inhaled the musky, masculine scent. The idea of taking a shower, and washing him off her body didn’t appeal to her at all. She wanted him to linger on her forever.

  Nothing on the television interested her, so she let out a long sigh and got out of bed and blushed, realizing she was still naked, she’d slept naked next to Rowen all night.

  Naked.

  She spent the next hour going through her normal routine, though nothing felt normal anymore. Not that it felt abnormal, just things had changed.

  Maybe in a good way.

  The coffeepot gurgled the last few drops of the bitter liquid. She poured a cup, staring out the window. The neighborhood kids lined the street, waiting for the school bus. Their parents huddled in their own group, carrying travel mugs or newspapers…or both.

  A knock at the back door startled her. She glanced over her shoulder to see Elizabeth with her arms folded over her middle, and she rocked back and forth.

  Heather rushed to the back and swung open the door. “What’s wrong?”

  “Have you been watching the news?” Elizabeth asked.

  “No, why?”

  “There’s a fire at Grovemann’s Tower in the West End Plaza.”

  Heather’s heart skipped a beat. “Rowen was called to a four alarm at about five this morning.”

  Elizabeth arched a brow. “And how exactly do you know this?”

  Heather’s cheeks burned. She could only hope that her face hadn’t turned beat red. “Can I get you a cup of coffee?”

  “Changing the subject only tells me either Rowen spent the night here, or you spent the night there.” Elizabeth glanced around. “Where’s the nearest television. Right before I came here I saw Rowen on the news.”

  “Really?” Heather poured Elizabeth a cup before making her way into the family room and turning on the news.

  “The fire, now a five alarm, has spread through three buildings,” the newscaster said.

  Heather sat on the armrest of the sofa, eyes glued to the screen, searching for any signs of Rowen. “Was he being interviewed or something?” she asked.

  “No. Just saw him in the background.” Elizabeth sat next to her on the edge of the sofa. “He had run by the newscaster, shouting something, then turned back toward the building.”

  Heather gasped, leaning closer to the television as the newscaster continued to report on the severity of the situation.

  Boom!

  Pow!

  The screen turned a fiery orange as the newscaster and camera man blurred out of focus. The lens of the camera dropped to the ground.

  “Oh my God,” Heather whispered, her lungs seeming to collapse, unable to hold any oxygen as she watched the fiery explosion toss rubble into the air.

  Agonizing seconds ticked by while the newscaster and his crew reassembled.

  Elizabeth held onto Heather’s hand so hard, she thought her bones might crack. Grateful for the support, she didn’t say a word and absorbed the bit of pain.

  “I need to get my phone.” Heather set her mug on the coffee table and raced to the kitchen, snagging her phone off the table.

  No message from Rowen.

  As if he’d have time to text her.

  God, she hoped he hadn’t been inside that building.

  She sat back down on the sofa, leaning forward, balancing precariously on the edge of the cushion.

  “As you can see behind me, one of the buildings has collapsed. We don’t know if anyone, including first responders, were inside,” the reporter said.

  “Rowen,” Heather whispered, crossing her fingers.

  “He’s fine, I’m sure of it.” Elizabeth patted her leg.

  Heather sent Rowen a text, even though she knew it would be a long time before he got it, much less responded.

  Behind the newscaster, firefighters raced around, carrying hoses and other equipment, pointing at the building and yelling, though she couldn’t make out they were saying.

  “Rowen’s been in bigger fires than this,” Elizabeth said in her reassuring, motherly tone. “I remember one about a year ago that took a long time to get in control and not a single injury. Quite impressive.”

  “I have to get into the office,” she said softly, not wanting to peel her eyes from the television. She clutched her phone, her only lifeline to Rowen, hoping it would vibrate soon.

  “Alright.” Elizabeth stood. “Let’s stay in touch as much as possible.”

  Heather nodded. “When he left this morning, I understood he was going to a fire, and I worried, but I never thought… never considered…”

  “We never do.” Elizabeth pulled her in for a brief hug. “When you get done at work, and if Rowen isn’t back, I insist on you coming over for dinner, okay?”

  Heather found herself nodding, accepting the invitation. A minute after Elizabeth left, Heather still stared at her phone.

  Nothing. No message.

&nbs
p; No text.

  The man had a job to do, and texting her in the middle of a five alarm fire had to be the last thing on his mind.

  The day ahead promised to drag on at an agonizingly slow pace.

  ***

  Between patients, Heather did her best to keep up with the news about the fire, but there hadn’t been an updat since three in the afternoon, reporting the fire had been brought under control and suggesting it would be completely out within in the hour.

  But what worried her more, was the report of at least five injured firemen having been rushed to the hospital.

  Still no text from Rowen.

  She’d sent him off that morning, feeling like an overprotective worry-wart, which would probably be a total turn off for him. He risked his life every day to ensure safety for his community. Sacrifice had been rooted in his soul. It’s who he was, not what he was.

  Her last patient and her staff had left. All she had to do now was a bit of paperwork and she’d be able to head home. She sat behind her desk with a stack of files, one open. She gasped at the vibration of her phone.

  Rowen’s name and image flashed on the screen.

  If he was texting, he was okay.

  She picked up the phone, swiping on the text message.

  Rowen: Sorry it’s taken all day. Difficult fire. I’m okay. Just left the hospital visiting with some buddies who got caught inside when a building collapsed. They're okay. I’m okay. Will be home in twenty.

  She glanced at her watch. Five-fifteen.

  Heather: So glad you’re okay and hope your buddies’ injuries are mild. Watched things unfold on television and have been worried sick. Dinner at the Easton’s. They insist. See you there.

  She hit send, almost wishing she hadn’t. It sounded too couple-ish. Only, she wouldn’t mind being Rowen’s other half. The vibration in her hands from her phone startled her.

  Rowen: Not surprised they insisted. Okay. I can do that if you’re coming with me. Really sorry it took all day to let you know I was okay.

  Wow. Just wow.

  Part of her had wanted to jump up and down that he had been concerned about her feelings. Another part of her wanted to shrug it off.

  She chose to straddle the middle.