Page 64 of The Night Belongs To Fireman

He was quiet for a long moment. “So you built an animal refuge. Just like that.”

“Well, it took almost a year to build it and hire the staff. It’s still a work in progress. I’m really interested in the rescue dog project.” She wondered why he was being so silent. “Does it seem strange to you? I wave my father’s magic checkbook and ta-da! … instant animal refuge?”

“No,” he said softly. “I mean, yes, I’m not used to that kind of power. But that’s not what I was thinking. I was thinking that you have an incredible heart. You could do anything in the world, and you choose to help animals. I admire you.”

She sat up and pushed the hair out of her eyes. “Are you teasing me?”

“Hell, no. I’m being sincere.”

“If you look at it another way, I’m a spoiled rich girl who plays with animals because that’s all her daddy will let her do. My biggest claim to fame is being kidnapped when I was little.”

With a sudden move, he flipped her onto her back. “Why are you so hard on yourself? You’re doing something you love and you’re trying not to hurt the people you care about. I think you’re amazing. And if there’s any spoiling to be done”—he pinned her arms to the side—“I’ll do it. With my weapon of looooove.”

With that, he dragged his tongue across her nipples until she whimpered from the hot pleasure coursing through her.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you are to me?” he murmured against her breasts. “In every respect. But especially your body.”

“Excuse me?” She tried like hell to frown, but it was hard when her nipples were responding like spring shoots to sunshine. “Especially my body? What kind of thing is that to say?”

“Shallow but true. I mean, look at you. This skin.” He nuzzled her chest, his hair tickling her nipples unbearably. “These perfect boobies.”

“Boobies?” She gave a snorting laugh and tried to tug her hands free. A pointless effort, with his strong hands still binding her.

“Yes, I said boobies.” He nipped at them gently, taking first one, then the other into his mouth. “Perfect,” he mumbled. He inserted his thigh between hers. Firm muscles and hot skin pressed against her mound. She squirmed against the intrusion, then went all liquid inside.

He shifted to nudge the little knot of nerves that had been craving his attention. How did he know? The man was a magician. She yelped, then snapped her mouth shut.

“Don’t keep it in,” he murmured. “I like to hear your sounds.”

“I don’t make sounds.”

“Yes, you do. I love your sounds. They turn me on. Especially when you don’t even know you’re making them. The more sounds, the merrier. Sounds, smells.”

“Smells? Ew.” She tried to close her legs, but he merely wedged his thigh closer.

“Your scent is one hundred percent pure erotic. Kind of spicy, like cinnamon or something. But also fresh, like morning rain. Rose bushes. One whiff and I go a little crazy. I just can’t help it. And then there are the textures.”

“Textures?” she said faintly. He was moving against her with a slow grind. The rhythm seemed to take over her entire being. Her heartbeat raced to catch up.

“Yes, textures. Is that weird, that I notice textures? Well, I do. For instance, the skin on your inner thigh is softer than anywhere else on your body. Guaranteed. I’ve cross-checked your entire body. The inner thigh wins.” He nudged her legs open. They fell apart like sliced butter. “But it might be time for another inspection.”

Then suddenly her hands were free, his strong ones were under her ass, her legs were draped over his shoulders, and his mouth was on her sex. He burrowed into her soft privacy, opening the outer lips like petals on a flower.

That was it for talking. No more banter, no more soul-baring, nothing but moans and shrieks and pleas for mercy.

She didn’t really want mercy, of course. She wanted more. More of what she seemed to experience only with Fred. When the rolling wave lifted her up toward the blinding sky, when it tossed her into the air and spun her around until gravity no longer applied … when she shrieked and sobbed, her only anchor his warm mouth latched to her sex, a shocking thought came to her.

All her life she’d craved freedom. In bed with Fred, she felt freer than she’d ever dreamed. Free to say whatever she wanted. Free to feast herself on his strong, eager body, free to have one screaming orgasm after another, free to tease and fight and laugh.

Free to forget all about the evil man who might still be hunting her.

Chapter 19

“I need to take a couple hours off this afternoon,” Fred told Rachel one morning, after a few of the most deliriously sex-drenched days he’d ever experienced. Not that he was worn out; not at all. He’d be happy to continue indefinitely, but he’d gotten a phone call from the firehouse.

“What’s up?” They were about to start Greta’s training session in the park across the street. Rachel wore a grungy T-shirt with the words “Bite Me” emblazoned across the front, along with ratty sweatpants. God, she was adorable. He couldn’t look at her without counting the minutes until they could go back to bed.

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