Page 45 of Embers in Autumn
“Dean,” I whispered against his mouth, tasting him and myself all at once. “I need a shower now.”
He kissed me back, a low rumble escaping his chest. “Mind if I join?”
I pulled back just far enough to see the glint in his eyes, the curve of his smile. The cocky firefighter, but there was warmth under it—always warmth.
I smiled, breathless, my face still flushed. “I thought you’d never ask.”
He chuckled, kissing me once more before easing me off the counter. My legs wobbled when my boots hit the floor, and his hands tightened at my waist to steady me. Strong hands, capable hands, the kind that could fight fire one moment and cradle me the next.
I brushed hair from my face, still shaky, still flushed, and laughed under my breath. “I’m blaming you when the counter creaks every time I set a book down.”
Dean smirked, leaning close. “Worth it.”
And as he laced his fingers with mine, guiding me toward the stairs to my apartment above, I realized just how dangerousthis had become—because my heart, not just my body, was already falling for him.
The narrow staircase creaked beneath our steps as Dean followed me up, his hand warm at the small of my back. My apartment door clicked shut behind us, the quiet inside louder than the drizzle tapping at the windows. I didn’t let myself think. Thinking was what always slowed me down, what always wrapped me in fear. But now, I just wanted to feel.
I tugged at his sweater, pulling it over his head in one swift move, and his laugh rumbled through the air. His chest was solid, warm, still damp with sweat from what we’d just done, and I pressed my palms against him, needing more.
“Bossy,” he teased, his hands finding my hips again.
“Get used to it,” I shot back, walking him backward toward the bathroom.
The light flicked on with a soft hum, I turned the water on hot, steam filling the small space instantly, then turned to him. For a heartbeat, I just looked. The firefighter, the father, the man who kissed me like I mattered. And God, I wanted him.
I reached for his belt, unbuckling it without hesitation, pushing his jeans down. He hissed when I brushed against him, hard and ready again. My lips curved.
“Still have energy for me?”
His jaw flexed. “Try me.”
I stripped my own dress and shirt in quick movements, boots and tights kicked aside, until I stood before him in nothing but my bra and panties. His eyes darkened, trailing every inch, but when his hands lifted to help, I stopped him with a shake of my head.
“My turn,” I whispered, sliding my straps down slow, watching his chest rise faster.
The bra hit the tile, followed by my panties, and the look in his eyes nearly undid me—but I stepped into the shower first, thewater cascading hot down my skin. I held out a hand, raising a brow. “Coming?”
He was in seconds later, the spray plastering his hair to his forehead, water rushing over the hard lines of his shoulders. He reached for me, but I pressed him back against the wall.
“Amber—”
“Shh,” I hushed, kissing him hard, my hands splayed across his chest as the water poured over us. I kissed down his throat, biting gently, then lower, until I dropped to my knees on the slick tile. His groan echoed off the walls when I wrapped my hand around him, stroking slow.
“Jesus Christ,” he muttered, his head thudding back.
I smiled up at him, then leaned forward and took him into my mouth, the water streaming down both of us. He cursed, his hand tangling in my wet hair, not guiding, just holding on. I set the pace, slow, then faster, until his breath came ragged and his thighs tensed under my grip, muscles straining, and I knew he was close. The sound that tore from his throat when I slid my mouth off him made my body clench with want.
I rose slowly, water cascading down both of us, his cock standing thick and hard between us. His chest heaved, his eyes burning into mine, but before he could say a word, I kissed him. Deep, wet, desperate. His groan vibrated through my lips as I pressed him back against the tile, taking control of the kiss until his hands shook against my hips.
“Not yet,” I murmured, biting lightly at his jaw. “I’m not done with you.”
I turned, bracing my hands against the wall, water rushing over my back, slicking my hair down my spine. I looked over my shoulder, breathless but steady. “Fuck me, Dean.”
His answer was a guttural curse. Then his hands gripped my hips hard enough to bruise, and in one smooth thrust he slid inside me, filling me so deep I cried out, the sound echoing offthe wet tile.
“Christ, Amber,” he growled, his chest flush to my back now, his mouth at my ear. “So tight, so wet. I could live inside you.”
The words made me shudder, my palms flattening harder against the wall as he drove into me again. The pace was brutal, water splashing, steam fogging everything, the world narrowing to the thick thrust of his cock, the heat building sharp and fast inside me.
