Page 67 of Faking It with the Firefighter

ABIGAIL

I turnedmy phone on Do Not Disturb on the drive home and breathed a sigh of relief when we didn’t find my brother waiting for us on my front porch swing. My pulse was erratic, and I couldn’t quite figure out what to do with my hands.

Rex, on the other hand, was cool as ever. He drove like he didn’t have a care in the world, relaxed and confident, occasionally moving his hand off the gear shift to place it on my thigh. The warmth of his palm against my leg sent shivers through me, and by the time he pulled up outside my house, I couldn’t quite breathe right.

Rex came around to my side of the car and let me out. When I fumbled with my keys, he gently took them out of my hands and opened the front door for us. Then his hand swept down my spine, and he let me enter the house ahead of him. His fingers lingered near my tailbone, every touch winding me tighter.

We stripped our shoes and jacketsoff. I left my purse hanging on one of the hooks by the front door. Then, barefoot on my wooden floorboards, we faced each other.

“I feel like I’ve stepped into an alternate universe,” I admitted.

Rex moved closer, his palm sliding down my side to fit into the indent of my waist. “In what way?”

“In the way that Rex Montgomery is the sexiest man I’ve ever seen.”

“Ouch,” he replied, tugging me closer. “You’re saying you didn’t find me sexy before?”

“Not since I was about seventeen years old,” I said, smiling as I adjusted the collar of his shirt. I let my eyes lift up to meet his and added, “That was before I realized you’re actually kind of a bad boy.”

He laughed, and then he kissed me. From there, Rex’s fingers were braiding in mine, and he was tugging me up the stairs to the bedroom.

I’d been with men since my divorce—the aforementioned men who treated me like a conquest. But this felt different. It felt like there was more on the line, like I was giving something to Rex that I hadn’t given to anyone since my ex-husband.

A part of me.

The part of me that hid behind thick castle walls and crocodile-infested moats. The part of me that craved being loved and cared for, that wanted someone to look at me and see a woman to cherish. I wasn’t just the tough, impulsive troublemaker. I was human, and I needed to be taken care of once in a while. I needed to be loved.

But being loved required opening the gates and letting someone in. Last time I’d done that, my ex had taken a lookaround and pointed out the crumbling furniture and moth-infested tapestries on the walls. He’d said,Not good enough.

That’s why my heart felt like it was thumping out of my chest when Rex dragged my dress’s zipper down. Why my hands trembled as I unbuttoned his shirt. Why my breaths came short and fast when he swept his thumb over my cheek and brought his mouth down to kiss mine.

There was so much on the line right now. It was all of me, offered up to a man who may or may not deserve it.

But Rex sighed against my lips and touched me like I was made of precious crystal. His eyes were liquid and dark as he pulled away to look at me, and his voice was reverent when he said, “You taste like heaven, Abigail. I could keep kissing you until the sun comes up.”

I couldn’t help the smile that bloomed over my face. In my marriage, sex had become a chore. Badabing, badaboom, get the job done, clean up, move on. We’d stopped kissing. We’d stopped touching.

To have a man like Rex tell me that just exploring my mouth would be enough for him for hours…that was intoxicating. It was powerful enough to help me shred the last of my nerves as I hooked my arms around his neck and pulled him in for another kiss.

His hands were possessive and unhesitating as they swept down my sides and traced the line of my panties. He pulled me close enough that I could feel the ridge of his cock against my stomach, and he groaned into our kiss.

“You drive me so fucking crazy,” he admitted in a low growl. “I dream of having you, Abigail. I wake up wanting the taste of you on my tongue.”

Walking me backward, he hooked his fingers into my underwear and pushed it down to the floor. I stumbled over them, laughing, and Rex caught me. He scooped me in his arms and laid me down on the bed, draping his body over mine. It was warm and safe and exciting, and all I wanted was for him to press himself inside me so I could finally,finally, feel full and stretched and his.

But Rex had other ideas. He caught my wrists above my head and pinned me down while he kissed my neck, my jaw, my clavicle. Transferring both wrists to one hand, he plumped my breast and took my nipple in his mouth. I arched off the bed with a gasp, and Rex replied with a dark chuckle.

His hips were cradled between my knees, and the soft undulations of my body were nearly beyond my control. I needed friction. I neededhim.

As if he could sense my need, Rex deliberately slowed down. His mouth went on a long, sinuous path from my breasts to my stomach and down below my navel as he gradually released my wrists. He inhaled the scent of me and smiled at my flush.

Then he parted my lips—and devoured me. I threw an arm over my eyes and bit back a sob. Pleasure shattered through me, almost too big to reckon with. When I came back to myself, Rex wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and watched me with dark, dark eyes.

“I want you, Abigail,” he said quietly.

“Yes,” I replied. “Please. Now.”

“I want you more than I’ve wanted anyone. I feel like I’m going to break apart the minute I’m inside you.”

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