Page 10 of Flashpoint Feelings

Instead of backing down, she fists her hands in my shirt and pulls. “Stop talking and kiss me.”

A voice in the back of my mind screams about regulations and careers and consequences, but I shove it aside. I’ll deal with the fallout later. I crush my mouth to hers, swallowing her gasp of surprise. Her lips are soft but demanding as she kisses me back with the same intensity she brings to every task. Because, of course, she does. I should have known Maya would approach a kiss like she does everything—all in, no hesitation.

My free hand spans her waist, and I press her back against the elevator wall, my hips pinning her firmly in place. I rarely use my size as an advantage, but all bets are off with this firecracker who seems to know exactly how to make me forget every single reason kissing her is a terrible idea. Plus, Maya doesn’t seem to mind. She’s stretching up on her toes as if she can’t get enough. And I know the feeling. She nips at my bottom lip then soothes the sting with her tongue. A groan rumbles up from my chest as heat floods my veins. Every brush of her lips, every slide of her tongue against mine, sends electricity crackling across my skin.

To hell with professional boundaries. To hell with department regulations. Right now, at this moment, all that matters is how perfectly Maya fits against me, as if she were made to be here. I tilt her head, adjusting the angle to deepen the kiss. A soft sound from the back of her throat nearly undoes me. It’s a cross between a whimper and a sigh that confirms she’s powerless against whatever this molten heat is between us.

My thumb traces the line of her jaw as our tongues tangle and explore. She tastes like heaven and sin wrapped into one irresistible package. And when she tugs my bottom lip between her teeth, pleasure shoots straight down my spine.

Despite her tiny frame, or maybe because of it, Maya kisses as if she’s trying to climb inside me. When I slide my hand into her hair, loosening that precise ponytail, she arches into me with a soft moan that vibrates through my chest. Her fingers trail fire up my neck, threading through my hair, dragging me closer. The sweet pressure of her curves against my chest is maddening. I want to touch her everywhere, to memorize every inch of her.

I work my way down her neck, stalling when the rapid flutter of her pulse under my lips makes satisfaction curl in my gut. Her breath comes in quick gasps that match my own racing heart. I pull away enough to peer down at her, and I’ve never seen anything more beautiful than Maya Thorne with her guarddown, her usual rigid control scattered at our feet like confetti. With a groan, I lower back down, searching for that sensitive spot just below her ear. And when her nails scrape my scalp, I can’t help but growl against her skin.

“Mack,” she breathes, and I’ve never heard my name sound like that before. Like a prayer and a curse wrapped into one breathy syllable.

I capture her mouth again, gentler this time, but no less intensely. She melts into me, all that fierce energy softening as she kisses me back with equal tenderness. Somehow, it’s even more devastating. I trace the seam of her lips with my tongue, memorizing their shape, their taste, knowing I shouldn’t continue but unable to stop myself. Jake and Brock’s warnings echo in my head, but I shove them aside. I’ll handle the consequences later.

My hand at her waist slides lower, gripping her ass to pull her against my rock-hard length. She freezes at the contact, and in a heartbeat, I know things have gone too far. Maya’s palms slide to my chest and press hard, pushing me away.

I step back immediately, the blood pounding in my veins. Her lips are swollen and pink, her features cast in a soft glow from the elevator’s emergency lights, but her expression is wary. I draw a ragged breath as her chest heaves.

“Satisfied?” Her breathless tone undermines her attempt at casual. “Got that out of your system, so we can get back to work?” She runs a palm along her hair, smoothing some tendrils of dark hair that have escaped and frame her flushed face like delicate wisps of smoke.

A laugh bubbles up in my chest. Partly at her stubborn pride and partly at the absurdity of thinking one kiss could ever be enough. I itch to reach up and trace her jawline while I study her, memorizing how she looks right now, attempting to get back to business, but still disheveled. Because of me.

“Sweetheart, if you think one kiss will get you out of my system, you clearly haven’t been paying attention.”

“I’ve been doing nothing but paying attention to the way you’ve been acting the last few days,” she exclaims, exasperated.

My heart stutters at her words. All this time, I thought I was the only one stealing glances, cataloging every subtle change in her expression, tracking her movements across the station like some lovesick teenager. But she noticed me. Of course, she did. Maya misses nothing. It’s what makes her such a damn good firefighter.

“That so?” I manage, trying for casual even as satisfaction unfurls in my chest. Something about knowing she’s been as hyperaware of me as I’ve been of her makes me want to pin her against this elevator wall all over again. “And here I thought I was being subtle.”

An amused glint flickers in those ice-blue eyes. “About as subtle as a five-alarm fire.” Her lips quirk up at the corners. “The way you’ve been avoiding me, volunteering for extra equipment checks, switching positions during drills…”

Called out completely, I can’t help but grin. “In my defense, I was trying to be professional.”

“How’s that working out for you?” she challenges.

“About as well as your attempt to get me out of your system with one kiss,” I counter, watching with satisfaction as her cheeks flush crimson.

Her breath catches, and for a moment, I think I see something vulnerable flash in those ice-blue eyes before her walls slam back into place. She smooths her uniform with quick, efficient movements, busying her hands, so I don’t notice them trembling slightly. But I do.

“We can’t do this again,” she says firmly. “You know we can’t.”

Damn it.

“I know.” But that kiss? It wasn’t a cure. More like throwing gasoline on a fire that was already burning out of control. I can’t resist reaching up to brush my thumb across her bottom lip, still pink and swollen. She shivers, and satisfaction curls in my gut. At least, I’m not the only one affected here. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

“Mack.” My name comes out as half warning and half plea. It shouldn’t make my pulse kick up, but here we are.

“You started it,” I remind her with a grin, trying to lighten the moment before the reality of our situation crashes back in.

She rolls her eyes, but I catch the hint of a smile she’s fighting. “What are you? Twelve?”

“Not even close.” I waggle my eyebrows at her, earning another eye roll even as her cheeks flush a gorgeous shade of coral. “Want me to prove it?”

“We have an inspection to complete,” she says as if I’ve forgotten, but there’s a huskiness to her voice that nearly breaks my resolve.

---