Page 17 of Flashpoint Feelings

“We need to go slow,” he says. “If it’s too much, you need to let me know, alright?”

I press a quick kiss to his lips. “I promise.”

My pledge does the trick, and before I know it, the head of his cock is edging inside me. A measured thrust of his hips, and instantly, the sensation is overwhelming. Every cell in my body is concentrated on where we’re joined. I grab hold of his biceps, my insides being stretched in the best possible way. Mack’s going slow, letting my body adjust to his size, but rather than satisfying me, the pace is teasing, only giving me a taste of what I want, what I need.

“Mack,” I urge, my nails digging into his muscles. “Please.”

He eases forward another inch. I want nothing more than for him to lose control, to thrust deep and fill me, giving it to me hard and rough. I arch my back, my gaze lifting past him to the ceiling.

“More?” he grinds out through gritted teeth, as if he’s unsure I can take it.

“More. Now,” I demand.

“Yes, ma’am.” His hips roll into mine and force my legs to spread as wide as they can go. Powerful thrusts shake the bed, and I hold on tight. But rather than feeling threatened with Mack looming over me, pounding me, filling me, it feels…empowering. And perfect. Which proves more than anything how much I’m gone for this man. How much I’ll hurt like hell tomorrow because this burly redhead, with a kind heart and a quick smile, has worked his way under my skin and into my heart without even trying. Especially when he delivers another earth shattering orgasm before he comes deep inside me and collapses onto me again.

Chapter ten

Mack

My knuckles hover inches from Chief’s cracked door as one more time, I rehearse in my head what I’m going to say. Hell, I feel like Levi, when he used me to practice what to say before he confessed to his best friend that he’d fallen for the guy’s little sister. But I get it now. Sometimes, you’ve gotta rip off the bandage, even when you know it’s gonna sting like salt in a papercut. My transfer request burns in my back pocket, the ink barely dry. But after last night with Maya, I have no choice. Zilch. Zero. I’d give up a thousand great stations to be with her.

I rap twice on the wooden doorframe, my heart pounding as if I’ve just finished a four-story climb in full gear.

“Yes?” Chief glances up from his paperwork. Catching my expression, his brow pinches. “Mack? Is everything all right?”

No sense in delaying the inevitable. “Sir, I…” My throat tightens as I drag out the folded form. “I’d like to request a transfer.”

He pushes back in his rolling chair and rises, his sharp eyes studying me. “Transfer?”

“Yes, sir.” I lay the form on his desk and stare at it.

“You’ve been here three years now. You’re one of the best on a crew that’s as close as any I’ve seen in my thirty years in the department. Why the sudden desire to leave?” He picks up my form, scanning it and apparently zeroing in on theReasonbox. “Personal?”

“It’s complicated, sir. I—” The station alarm cuts me off, its piercing wail followed instantly by flashing orange lights.

Sure enough, within seconds, the dispatcher’s voice crackles over the speaker, calm but urgent. “Structure fire at 367 Columbus Avenue. Ladder 24 respond immediately. Multiple reports of heavy smoke, potential victims trapped…”

I’m already flying down the stairs two at a time with Chief hot on my heels. I sprint for my gear, the usual adrenaline flooding my system. Maya’s already at the rack, efficiently stepping into her turnout pants and boots with practiced grace, her movements precise as she pulls the suspenders over her shoulders and secures each buckle with nimble fingers. Even in her rush, there’s no wasted motion while she shrugs into her coat, the reflective stripes catching the bay lights as she works her way up the snaps. The sight of her slight frame disappearing into the bulky gear does nothing to diminish the electricity that crackles between us when our eyes meet briefly before she turns to grab her SCBA.

Once geared up, I haul into a crew seat, keenly aware of Maya at my side. Once we’re buckled, Brock activates the emergency lights and pulls out onto Columbus. Turning left, he navigates through bumper-to-bumper traffic that presses on with impatient honks as if the flashing lights and blaring siren are mere suggestions to get the hell out of the way.

“Restaurant basement kitchen fire,” Jake reports through our headsets as he reviews the dispatch details on the tablet. “Multiple victims and heavy smoke conditions reported with not all employees accounted for.”

“We’ll need to sweep both floors,” Chief says, his voice sharp and commanding.

“Engine 17 reporting, as well,” Jake informs us as billowing, black smoke comes into view up ahead.

“I can take primary search on the basement level, Chief.” Maya is already checking her air supply gauge, her voice as steady as always.

My grip tightens on the truck’s safety bar until my knuckles turn white. Of course, Maya volunteers for the most dangerous assignment. It’s exactly why I fell for her. That unwavering courage, that fierce determination. But now, hearing her calmly offer to descend into what could be a backdraft waiting to happen, I understand why the department bans dating between firefighters at the same station. Every cell in my body screams to protect her, to volunteer myself instead, to do anything to keep her away from what could become a deathtrap in seconds.

This isn’t about Maya’s abilities. Hell, she’s one of the most capable firefighters I’ve ever worked with. But love and logic don’t exactly play nice together. She’d kill me, and rightfully so, if I so much as dared to suggest another assignment for her, so I blurt out the next best thing. “I’ll assist with the search.”

Maya’s head snaps toward me so fast she probably gave herself whiplash. And that look in her eyes? The one that could melt steel? It screams she’s pinned me as the overprotective boyfriend I’m trying my damnedest not to be. Hell, even her glares are sexy, which definitely isn’t helping my judgment right now.

But Chief shakes his head as we pull to a stop. “Need you on ventilation, Mack. You’ve got the reach we need for the saw. Jake, you’re with Maya on search and rescue. Brock, hose line deployment.”

How can I focus on ventilation when all I can think about is Maya moving through that smoke-filled basement, where one wrong step, one missed sign could…?

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