How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (11 page)

One by one, he drew a toe into his mouth and swirled his tongue around it. At first she jerked. Then she stilled. He feathered kisses along the arch of her foot and over her ankle, and heard what he hoped was a sigh. Moving from leg to leg, the smooth skin of her calves enticed him. Each received meticulous attention of nibbles, soothed by kisses. He inhaled her peaches and cream fragrance, knowing he’d never be able to taste of the sweet fruit again without thinking of his Cassie. His hands stroked her toned thighs, while his mind recalled how tightly they’d squeezed around him to push him through her barrier, breaking her cherry. She was his first virgin. He’d been her first man. Three years and they’d shared so much.

“Roll, angel.” He tilted her to the side so he could unzip her leather skirt and slid it over her hips, dropping it onto the floor. She wore a tiny swath of black lace attached to a narrow black elastic band. “Your ass has been my fantasy for years.”

“Yours, too.”

Delighted by her two-word confession, he smacked one of her ass cheeks. “Like my tight bubble butt, do you?” She giggled and he pressed kisses to each cheek of her most delectable behind. He slipped his thumbs under the warm ebony silk and tugged her thong off, tossing it over his shoulder.

The aroma of fuchsias, a wild flower that grew abundantly in Chile, reached his nose, conveying his thoughts back to the lush, green countryside. Renata used to bathe in fuchsia water. He shook his head to clear his mind.

And spied Cassie’s shaven pussy.

He stilled. Anger, hot and unforgiving, rolled through him. He ran a finger between the folds of her labia. “What the hell is this?” The tone of his voice deepened to a dangerous level.

“I shaved tonight.”

“You shaved for him? Does that bald motherfucker like his women bald as well as obedient?”

“No. No, it’s not like that at all. Untie me, Quinn. I need to see your face.”

Strong emotions of betrayal and fear of losing Cassie overtook him. She was the continual beam, the bright ray of sunshine in his world of obsidian emotions. God, she was everything of value in his life. Confusion muddled his cognizance. His familiar bedroom faded away and the opulent coastline of Chile shimmered into his consciousness. The labyrinth of inlets, canals and twisting peninsulas lined with magnificent greenery and dotted with occasional waterfalls and lakes, once a place of beauty to him, was now a memorial of death. Bouquets of exotic blooms and humid earth replaced the delicate fragrance of the peaches and cream lotion Cassie wore. His fingers curled into fists.
Damn
Renata for her treachery.

A red haze of fury covered his vision, or was it the spilled blood of his team members? He trembled as memories of gunfire rang in his ears. The acrid smell of gunpowder and the coppery stench of blood filled his nostrils. He’d been deceived. His whole team had been betrayed, set-up and damn near destroyed. Only two people knew about their mission that night—Renata and his contact in the State Department. And only one had confessed.

“You used me. Filled my mind with lies.” He forced air into lungs constricted with resentment and revenge.

“What? You’re not making any sense.” She pulled at her restraints. “Get this shirt off me so we can talk sensibly. Enough games.”

“Oh, you like playing games, don’t you, Renata? You move from me to the next guy as quickly and easily as you change underwear. The cartel paid you well for your loyalty, didn’t they?” He rolled off the bed and stormed out of the bedroom. Renata’s cries—no, Cassie’s—followed him. Jealousy and anger had him so damned confused. He needed space, time to think and a cold beer. Maybe two.

Twisting off the bottle top, he guzzled a long drink. He shook so badly, beer dribbled down his chin and chest. He slammed the brew on the counter and reached for some paper towels to hold under running water to wipe his face and upper torso. Sweat poured out of him, and he gulped deep breaths of air to calm the shakes. His first assessment had been correct. He was too emotionally damaged for Cassie. One whiff of Renata’s favorite exotic flower and he’d had a full-blown flashback. What had he said to Cassie? He couldn’t recall.

She was so precious to him. If he hurt her, he’d never forgive himself. Yet someone had to talk to her about the choices she was making. Hell, next thing she knew she’d be saddled with some loser like him…or worse, if that were possible. He took another pull off his beer. Maybe if he talked to Becca, explained how reckless Cassie was behaving of late. Asked Becca to keep an eye on his angel. He upended the bottle to his lips. Lord knew, someone needed to explain the consequences of her actions to her.

Furball jumped onto the counter and headbutted Quinn’s arm, meowing his I-need-a-treat plea. “You’re eating me out of house and apartment, cat. And let me tell you one damn thing. Lucky for your sorry ass, you’re a male and not female. ʼCause, just between us, I suck at relationships with women.” He stroked Furball’s head twice before holding a snack triangle for him to eat. “Easy now, don’t mistake my skin for a piece of salmon.” He glanced toward the hallway leading to the bedroom. “I’m more the ass type than the fish variety.” Quinn drained his beer, tossed the empty container in the trash and trudged back to the bedroom to face Cassie.

Why in the hell did I let myself fall in love with her? Who the hell am I kidding? One dose of her sassy sunlight and I was fuckin’ toast.

If she didn’t stop struggling, she was going to suffocate under her own blouse. Cassie laid still and breathed slowly. God, this thing was hot and drawn tight. Who was the idiotic expert who claimed cotton breathed? Once she got out from the humiliating position of her shirt pulled over her head while she lay completely naked on an empty,
deserted
bed, she was going on a feminine rampage.

Men. Not a single one of them had a lick of sense. Ryder and his bright idea of making Quinn jealous. Micah and his touchy-feely tactics. Quinn with his hot-and-cold affections and spontaneous temper tantrums. All of them deserved a good old-fashioned ass-whooping and she was just the pissed off woman to deliver.

What soured her mood even more was that her body still hummed with desire for more of Quinn’s touch. Being stroked and kissed during the temporary loss of her sight was a real turn-on. Every cell in her system honed in on whatever part of her body he worked. The man certainly knew his way around the female form, how to arouse and whip into a sensual frenzy.

Which brought to mind another question that deserved answering in a damn big hurry: just who the
hell
was Renata? Some other woman Quinn was seeing? He would pay big-time if he was having sex with both her and someone else.

Footsteps sounded in the hallway. She ground her molars together and tensed. Victim number one in her feminine retribution approached.

The bed shifted and dipped when he sat, his naked hip warmed her waist. “Are you all right, angel? I shouldn’t have left you tied up like this.” Oh, so he was back to being Mr. Nice Guy now. His lips pressed a kiss to her navel and around the mounds of both breasts. “I’m sorry for the way I acted.” His tongue flicked across her beaded nipples, already straining for his attention.

Her eyes narrowed beneath the fabric of her shirt. What made him think he could kiss her so casually? After all he’d accused her of? After calling her by another woman’s name? A simple “I’m sorry” was supposed to erase leaving her tied up like this?
Not on your freaking life, bucko.

The material pulled her arms while he untied the knots in her sleeves around the posts of the headboard. “I’ll rub your shoulders to get the circulation going again. I should never have left you tied up while I walked out to cool off.”

Her fingers curled into her palms.
Oh look at how nice and concerned Mr. Moody Ass is now.

Once her arms were freed, pain rushed in. Her nerve endings pinged and pronged throughout her shoulders and arms as blood flow returned. She gasped to swallow the aching while a couple of moans eked out from her throat.

“You okay?” Quinn tugged her blouse off her head and arranged it around her body, gently and with tenderness, as if he really cared. His fingers massaged her shoulders and arms, while steam built inside her like a teapot without a release valve. Mr. Moody Ass had the nerve to smile, as if his charm would just melt away his offensive behavior. “Although, I gotta admit, you looked damned appealing laying there in the middle of my bed, naked with your face covered up like that.”

She belted him.

Her fingers were curled so tightly when she gave him an uppercut to the jaw, she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to cut or comb hair again. “You ignorant asshole! How dare you say I looked good with my face covered up? Were you referring to the adolescent joke about putting a bag over every woman’s head so we’d all look alike? How dare you?”

He flopped onto his back, his hand to his chin. “Ow! You made me bite my tongue.”

She straddled him, shaking her fist under his nose. “You’re lucky I didn’t hit you in the balls, then you could bite on those for a while. You had no right to leave me tied up like that and then to make that stupid-ass remark.”

“Look, I’m sorry. Okay? I had a bit of a flashback.” He blinked and then winced at his uncustomary admission. “I got jealous when I saw you’d shaved.”

“Flashback? Of what? A parade of bald hootchies!”

His eyes narrowed. “I think it’s time you calmed down. You’re overreacting.”

“Overreacting, my ass. I went through all these preparations for you tonight, you big, unappreciative jerk. I even suffered the advances of Ryder’s godson. And let me tell you, he was one touchy-feely prick.”

He rolled her over, tucking her beneath him. “Calm. The Fuck. Down. Did I ask you to get mixed up with someone else?”

His thick thighs encased her legs, the dark hairs setting off her nerve endings from her scalp to her soles. Why, oh why, did a touch from any part of his body always excite, bringing her sensuality to life? Not that she would think about that now—or pay attention to his cock growing long and thick against her abdomen—not when she was so damn angry with the man inside the firm mound of muscle embracing her.

“Yes, you did. You told me to leave your apartment yesterday and forget about you. So, that’s what I did.” She hiked her chin, hoping to hell she pissed him off half as much as he’d done to her.
Paybacks are hell, Quinn Gallagher.

His teeth grazed her chin. “I think you may have misunderstood,
bébé
.” His accent imitated Micah’s.

Okay, she’d play the game. She knew just the buttons to push. “Oh,” she cooed, inserting a breathy quality to her voice, “you sound just like Micah. I just adore how possessive he is. He’s
all
man. Not afraid to show his attraction to a woman in the slightest.”

Quinn’s head slowly rose from her neck where he’d been nuzzling and nibbling, his whiskered stubble sending delightful shivers through her system. The grey overtook the blue of his narrowed eyes as they fixated on hers. “You little green-eyed pain in my ass. You want to see possessive?”

His fingers clenched the lapels of her blouse and rent it open. One or two buttons zinged against the wall over her head. He practically vibrated with anger. Even the ink of his tattoo shone darker in the dusky light of his bedroom. “I’ll show you more possession than you ever imagined. Because no one touches you, but me. Do you understand?” His finger slipped into the moisture of her folds. “No one makes you wet like this, but me.” His thumb circled her clit while he repeatedly chanted she was his and no one else’s.

Demanding lips covered hers in a passionate, almost frantic kiss. One hand cupped the back of her neck while the thumb of his other hand continued its slow, torturous odyssey around her clit, moving closer with each pass. His tongue invaded her mouth and stroked every surface, which somehow soothed the burning sensations created by his thumb nearing her core of need. He had her emotions ricocheting from searing desire to sweet appeasement. All she could do was anchor her arms around his massive shoulders and hope she’d survive the whirligig ride he had her on.

He released her lips and pulled back far enough to stare into her eyes. “I’ve been fighting possessiveness for you like a four-alarm fire. Half the time when you’re around me, I’m so damn horny, I can’t think straight. I keep telling myself you’re off limits. Hell, you’re my superior’s sister, for Christ’s sake. And being seven years behind me, you’re too damn young. You entice me like no one I’ve ever met. I adore your combination of fun nature and feistiness.” He lowered his head to kiss her breasts. “God, how I love your sweetness.”

Her hands swept across his straight dark hair, holding him to her breasts for he knew how to do the most fabulous things with his tongue and lips. And, as angry as she was with his earlier behavior, his mouth on her was like a powerful, sensual eraser. “Don’t stop. Take me to that place only you can take me, Quinn.”

Two of his fingers entered her and began a slow rhythm; her hips rose to match every stroke. He released her nipple and laved his tongue over the beaded point. “I have yet to figure out what it is about you that appeases my savage beast. You have a way of soothing my soul, even when I’m in a dark place where I don’t think anyone can reach me.”

So her brother was right. Something had hurt Quinn—ruthlessly, extremely, irrevocably. She’d gladly give him everything she had to get him to open up. He needed to strip off that scab of protectiveness covering the deep wound. Once he did, the poison he so carefully guarded could channel out of his soul. Because she suspected it was slowly eating him alive.

She’d have to proceed with caution. Hadn’t her years of counseling taught her that? Weren’t her biggest breakthroughs a result of unbridled high spirits from something totally unrelated? Would making love give him the same healing euphoria?

“Show me, big guy. Show me how possessive you can be. Make me cry out your name when I climax.”

“You need proof, do you? Proof you belong to me and no one else?”

I guess now isn’t the time to remind him of his nearly packed U-Haul out front.

His lips and hands were like multiple entities, touching her everywhere at once. Her skin scorched from his touch, stung from his gentle biting and succumbed to his kisses. For a fraction of time, it was as if she levitated from the bed, so seduced was she by his agitated, wild lovemaking. Whispered words and promises were shared. Pleas were uttered and surcease offered to ease immediate desires.

When he finally pressed his thumb upon her clit, she trembled and shuddered as his name exploded from her lungs. He held her to him until the tremors eased and all the while he feathered kisses over her face and neck, whispering words of praise and love. At least she thought that’s what they were. She wasn’t quite sure since the buzzing in her mind obliterated part of her hearing. Slowly, she slid from disorientation to reality again. The burning in her lungs eased and her heart rate returned to normal.

On a stretch, Quinn reached to open the drawer of his nightstand and palmed a foil packet. He settled on his back. “Want me to teach you the proper way to put on a condom?”

“There’s a wrong way?”

He smirked as he shifted on the sheet, folding and shoving a pillow under his head to raise it. “Well, there’s the ordinary way to put a rubber on and then there’s the exceptional way.” A slow, sexy-as-hell smile spread. “And, baby, we don’t do anything ordinary.” He passed her the pack. “Straddle my thighs and tear open the wrapper.”

She eyed his cock standing tall and proud like a soldier ready to conquer anyone who came close. Her gaze swept back to his. “Straddle your thighs?”

The blue was back in his mesmerizing eyes. “Do what I tell you, angel.”

After sliding back to straddle his thick, muscular legs, the hairs tickling her bare bottom, she tore the edge off the foil. “The wrapper says the condom’s flavored.”

“Yeah, I bought strawberry, your favorite.” Quinn extended his palm. “Put the edge you just tore off here and slide the condom out without unrolling it. Then give me the rest of the wrapper. See the opening band? You’ll place that in your mouth after you squeeze the tip to get the air out so the condom doesn’t break. Then you’ll basically push against the rolled up rubber ridge until it covers my cock.”

She glanced at the fragrant strawberry latex in her palm and then at him. “So I’m putting this thing on you with my mouth?”

“Damn straight.” Now there was a pun if ever she’d heard one.

She put the ribbed edge in her mouth, leaned over him and positioned it over the end of his pecker and rolled it on with her lips. The groans from Quinn indicated her technique was to his liking. She sat back, quite pleased with the strawberry-covered cock. “Condoms do stretch. Right?” She pointed. “Because I swear you just got bigger.”

Male laughter, deep and rich, caressed her. “Straddle me, sweetheart. Take all you want. Fuck me hard or easy. Any way you want it, that’s how I’ll give it to you. Take tops this time so I can watch your beautiful breasts.”

His hands encased them while she slowly eased onto his shaft, his thumb and forefinger pulling and twirling her nipples. “That’s it, go slow so I can enjoy every sweet inch of your tightness. God, it’s like squeezing into a snug glove of heat and moisture.” He could charm her any day with that deep, sexy voice of his.

She moved her hips in a leisurely pattern. “You know I’m still kinda pissed at you. Gigantic orgasm, or not.” His hands settled at her hips and he winked. No doubt he didn’t give a shit as long as she kept riding him. “And just wait until I see Ryder again. Don’t think I won’t give him a good going over for his stupid-assed ideas to get you in bed.”

A fine sheen of sweat beaded Quinn’s forehead. “Ryder was part of this…” He waved an open hand, the corners of his mouth quirking upward. “Seduction?”

“Hell yes. I stopped at his place for a smoothie after work and he asked where you were. I told him you were moving to get away from me, because you hate me.”

He pulled her toward him and kissed her. “I don’t hate you, angel. Nothing could be farther from the truth. Trust me.”

She increased her movements a little more and decided to face his changing temperament head-on. “Trust you? Mr. Mood Shifter? First you’re jealous, then you’re all over me like you can’t get enough of me, and then you storm out like I’m damn repulsive. You’ve got me raw inside. So emotionally raw, I don’t think I can take much more.”

“Hell, baby, I don’t mean to hurt you. I’m just not good enough—”

She shook her fist under his nose and his eyes widened. “If you give me that stupid song and dance again about how you’re not good enough for me, I’m going to send you out of Clearwater with two black eyes.” She leaned in until they were nose to nose. “Do you hear me, Quinn Hudson Gallagher?”

The man had the audacity to smile. “Yes, ma’am.”

“I’m trying to be nice here, but I’ve gotta tell you, I’m tired of listening to men. I don’t think a single one of you knows what the hell you’re talking about.” But, oh how nice they felt when they were inside you—at least this particular annoying man. The muscles in her lower abdomen started to coil with the silent promise of an approaching release.

His dark eyebrow quirked.

“‘Wear sexy clothes,’ Ryder said.” She jerked her hips faster. “‘Wear boner-birther boots,’ he said.” Tremors started low in her belly and, against her will, she flexed harder against him. “‘Make Quinn jealous,’ he said. And what did I get out of it? I got tied to the bed with my shirt pulled over my head and left there while you went off to fantasize about some bitch named Renata.” Her climax started overtaking her. “And now, dammit all to hell, I’m going to come with another woman’s name on my mind. Damn you for that.”