Page 24 of A Very Grumpy Firefighter

“Could you lift and hold me? Like against a wall?” I ask him, my voice coming out low and filled with lust.

“Lilou,” he moans, and I suck in a breath.

“I like it when you say my name like that,” I tell him, my hand trailing over his arm.

He parks in front of my apartment, and I turn to him fully and lean across the center console towards him.

“Lilou,” he says in warning, but I can’t resist.

I just need to know what it’s like to kiss him.

He turns to me, and I lean forward, pressing my lips against his. We both moan at the contact, and he reaches for me, his hands trailing softly up my neck until he’s cradling my face in his palms.

“Lilou,” he chokes out, and I hum against his lips.

I kiss him harder, and his hold on me tightens. His mouth is soft but firm against mine, and I wrap my arms around his neck and lick against his bottom lip.

“Fuck,” he curses, pulling back from me. “Inside. Now.”

I nod, and he hops out of the truck and moves to open my door. He pulls me into his arms, and I giggle as I wrap my arms around his neck and my legs around his waist.

“Told you I could lift you,” he whispers against my ear, and I shiver in his hold.

He locks his truck and then we’re headed upstairs. I dig in my purse for the keys, but he beats me to it and pulls out his own set, unlocking and opening the door.

We head through my apartment to the bedroom, and my body starts to heat the closer we get to the bed.

He lays me down on the mattress and reaches for my shoes. I sit up and start to take off my shirt, tossing it aside. And then he pulls the blankets over me and tucks me in.

“What?” I ask, blinking up at him and he gives me a pained smile.

“I’m not sleeping with you. Not when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not!” I argue, but he shakes his head.

“You’re tipsy, at the very least.”

I pout, and he groans.

“You’re killing me, Lilou. I want to, I promise. Just not tonight.”

With that, he gives me a quick kiss on my forehead and then hurries out of the bedroom, closing the door on his way.

I sigh and lay back, staring up at the dark ceiling. The room is kind of spinning, and I realize that maybe I’m drunker than I thought.

I close my eyes, trying to stop the dizziness, and soon, I drift off to sleep.

And I dream of Milo.

EIGHT

Milo

I could barely sleeplast night, and it wasn’t because I was trying to cram my six-foot-four frame onto her tiny couch. Or it wasn’t entirely because of that. I just kept replaying that kiss with Lilou over and over in my head.

It was everything that I imagined it would be and so much more. In all of my fantasies, it was always me kissing her, me initiating things, but last night,shekissedme. Sure, she was tipsy, but that still has to mean something.

Right?

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