Page 757 of Hell Hath No Fury
He stepped forward, only a few inches away. His eyes were a curious gray color, like the concrete floor beneath them. His gaze drifted over her face and then down, down her body. She realized this was the first time he had really examined her, as if she’d given him permission. In baring herself, she’d bared a little of him to. Their bodies were so different, his large and scarred, hers small and trembling. But inside each mirrored the other, heat and uncertainty and wanting.
The way her arms reached up lifted her breasts, turned each breath into a request.Touch me, feel me, know me.But he waited.
“I could get fired for this.”
“For having sex in here,” she said breathlessly.
He looked around, as if realizing they were in the fire station for the first time. “Maybe. For having sex with a victim, definitely.”
She flinched.Victim.Was that her? An accident, the tiny flick of a flame where it didn’t belong, and her life went up in smoke, and she became a different person—a victim.
Victims needed protection from other people, from themselves. But she didn’t want to be treated like glass. She wanted to shatter.
* * *
He was coming apart, crashing up against the jagged rocks of her breathlessness, her bravery. He was supposed to be the courageous one. But burning buildings could only hurt him on the outside. What she had done coming here and holding onto that damned bar—she left herself vulnerable.
He didn’t want to hurt her. Well, maybe just a little. Enough to make it sweeter for them both. He could sense the tension trapped beneath the surface, shimmering beneath her skin. It made him hold her tighter—too tight—so afraid she would turn to smoke in his hands.
He had been thinking about her, dreaming about her. But no matter how much he liked her, he wouldn’t have sought her out. Leaving was too easy—a habit now. At least that was what he told himself, when he called up the hospital to see if she’d had any complications. She had been released a few hours ago, and now she was here.
It didn’t seem real. Maybe he was still dreaming, lounged out on the sofa. Shit. While he probably should ride the wave either way, he had to know. This was too important to leave to chance.
He narrowed his eyes. “Tell me something about you.”
Uncertainty pierced the arousal in her expression. “Like what?”
“Anything. Why did you have so many of those folded birds in your apartment?” He’d seen them amid the wreckage, soggy little remnants of a life he knew nothing about.
“For my job. My business. Lucky In Love Wedding Stationery and Embellishments.”
That was the name of her business? Jesus. Well, she had been lucky to get out of the fire unscathed. Physically, anyway. The jury was still out on her emotional state. This sudden proposition in the middle of the firehouse could be some sort of cry for help. A coping mechanism, maybe. Best not to know. Then he would have to be honorable… or not. He wasn’t sure he couldwalk away. As long as she was down for it, this was happening.
And after, would he leave her in his dust?a voice whispered in his mind. He couldn’t imagine doing that either. She looked at him with those fiery eyes, and he burned up inside. He was the risk-taker, and this felt like the biggest risk. To want her, need her—it was personal and terrifying and he couldn’t have moved from her side to save his life.
Her lips looked dry, chapped, and he wondered if they were always like that or if it was just because of the fire. He bent his head and pressed his lips to hers, then licked along the bottom. Cool air raced over his skin as she sucked in a breath. He licked her top lip before darting inside. She was made up of little gasps, pearls of water strung on a blade of grass, and she tasted just as fresh.
He had the urge to lick her everywhere, her nose and her eyelids. But that would probably freak her out, and it wasn’t a real sort of plan anyway. More like a latent instinct to devour her, to hide her away where no one could see her.
A little crazy.
He dipped lower instead, along her jaw and down the skin of her neck. And got distracted. How was she so soft? When he sucked, she groaned, the sound vibrating against his lips. When he nipped, she shuddered.
“You okay?”
She made a frustrated sound. It sounded like a growl beside his ear. He sipped at the hollow of her throat, teasing with the tip of his tongue. God, she was fun.
Surprised at the thought, he raised his gaze to meet hers. He finally recognized this feeling. It was like being inside the twister, at the eye of the storm. Quiet and still while the fierce winds blew around them, drowning out the rest of the world. Intimate, sexy, and so damn personal, but instead of making him need to leave, he wanted more.
* * *
Kennedy needed more than gentle touches and wicked lips. She needed hands and roughness.
“Don’t tease me,” she demanded, though it sounded more like begging.
His knuckle raised her chin, his eyes met hers. “Ask nicely.”
“Do. It. Please.”
