Never Too Hot (14 page)

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Authors: Bella Andre

Tags: #Romance, #Fiction, #General, #Suspense, #Contemporary, #Divorced women, #Fire fighters

BOOK: Never Too Hot
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Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra and let it fall to the floor between them. “I loved what you were doing to my breasts,” she said in a hoarse voice before stepping back from him and stripping off her panties.

Boldly taking his hand, she placed it onto her mound, trembling as his rough fingers made contact with her heavily aroused skin, full with desire.

“I loved what you were doing right here too. Do it again, Connor. Take me higher, take me all the way over the edge.” She went on her tippy toes and whispered into his ear, “And don’t worry about me. I can handle you.”

He moved her so fast from standing in the middle of the room to flat on her back on the bed that she lost her breath. A heartbeat later, his head was between her legs, his mouth replacing his hand. Crying out, she arched up into his lips as his tongue slid into her wetness, then up to her clitoris, then back down the length of her labia. His hands held her hips steady as she forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but feel.

And then, oh God, there it was, a higher peak than she’d ever climbed before, and she was exploding beneath him, her body wracked with spasms of ecstasy. Through it all, he continued licking and sucking and plunging with his tongue, never letting up, not until he’d wrung every ounce of pleasure from her body.

Tears pricked her eyes, not just from the pleasure, but from the intense emotions that Connor’s care with her body stirred up. The way he touched her, kissed her, stroked her, made her feel beautiful.

Special.

“I didn’t know,” she said when she could finally speak. “I didn’t know it could be like that.”

Running kisses along the insides of her thighs, then up her belly and her rib cage, he found her breasts again with his hands and mouth.

“I need to be inside you.” His eyes held hers in the near darkness. “Now. Before I explode.”

Together they yanked off his pants and pulled off his shirt until he was levered over her, completely naked.

Ginger was sure that nothing and no one had ever felt this good. She wanted to touch and kiss every inch of him, take her time exploring his perfection. But those explorations would have to wait, because he was pushing her thighs apart with one knee and lifting himself up her body so that the head of his penis was pressed up against her open folds. And then, before she could take her next breath, he was inside her, in one long stroke.

“You’re so tight,” he groaned, going completely still as her body stretched to accept his thick member. “So wet.”

She could feel him throbbing against her womb, her body answering with more wetness and fluttering way down deep in her belly.

“Please, Connor,” she begged, not knowing the right words to ask for what she wanted, but knowing it was waiting for her just the same.

But those two simple words were magic, because a moment later, he began the long, slow slide out, then back in. Out. In. Out. In. Over and over again until she was delirious with desire and the peak that she’d crested only minutes earlier was, amazingly, back within reach.

She pulled his face down to hers so that she could show him with her kisses how much this lovemaking meant to her. That it was everything she’d been waiting for. That being with him was so much more than anything she’d ever felt before.

And as they kissed, he grew bigger still inside her until that moment when she felt her hold on her body give way again to another mind-blowing orgasm and he was throbbing and pulsing inside of her, pushing harder, higher, deeper as they both came.

Panting hard, her skin still slick from the rain, but mostly from the intense heat they’d generated, Connor shifted their weight so that his back was on the mattress and her head was cradled against his chest.

One of his arms over her hip, one leg wound against her, exhaustion swept over her, the perfect kind of tiredness that came from having given all of herself. It was similar to how she felt after an all-day painting marathon, but far more special.

Because she wasn’t alone.

Connor breathed her in, the delicious scent that was so unique to Ginger. Her name said it all; sweet and spicy mingling together in the perfect package.

He hadn’t meant to attack her like that. Hadn’t meant to bury his face in her breasts, between her legs. Hadn’t meant to pound her hard into the mattress. But he hadn’t been able to help himself.

It was the first time he’d ever completely lost control with a woman.

And yet, as he lay there with Ginger warm in his arms, he knew it had been about more than just making her come, more than loving the feel of her soft flesh in his hands.

She was so incredibly beautiful, inside and out. He’d felt her surprise when he’d said as much to her, and he’d wanted so badly to erase all those years of fat camps, all the horrible things her husband had done to her. He knew he’d never find the words, but here in his bed, in the dark, he could show her how special she was.

Closing his eyes, he took several deep breaths to try to steady his heartbeat, counting backward from one hundred to let her fall asleep, but somewhere around thirty, he was kissing her again and she was responding by rubbing her breasts against his chest. Wanting to go slower this time, he kissed her along her forehead, her cheekbones, her chin, then her neck and collarbones. His hands ran softly over her breasts, to her waist and hips.

Rolling her over so that she was lying on top of him, he said, “You make me crazy, Ginger,” his voice rough with desire, and then she was grinding against him, bringing him back in record time.

“You. These.” He cupped her breasts together, then closed his eyes and tilted his face up to rub himself on her like a lion would his mate. “There are no words,” he finally said a moment before he sucked one taut nipple in between his lips.

She arched her back to give him better access to her breasts and he was laving both breasts at once, his tongue darting, his teeth lightly scoring her nipples, his stubble brushing against her flushed skin.

He could feel how ready she was as she rocked into his erection and then he was pushing up into her again, sounds coming out of their mouths that they couldn’t control, and everything was connected, his mouth on her breasts, his hands on her hips as she rode him faster, harder, his desire for her growing bigger, stronger than anything he’d known was possible. And then, she was crying out, slamming herself against him as she reached the pinnacle and started to fall.

Her orgasm was so sweet he swore he could hear the angels sing as she came, and then he stopped trying to hold on to his self-control and gave himself up completely to pure pleasure.

Minutes later, with Ginger’s curves pressed up tight into him, her breathing soft and even as the storm raged above them, Connor fell into the deepest sleep he’d had in two years.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

 

SNIPPETS OF the previous night slowly came to Ginger as she woke up. Remembrances of intense pleasure. Connor’s mouth on her. Moaning—screaming—his name as she came. And then as she grew more fully awake she realized that she was in his bed, and he was still there with her, his large arms holding her tightly against him.

He was running the tip of his fingers over her hips, the small of her back, the side of her breasts. But she hadn’t yet tasted him with her lips, her tongue, and now it was what she most wanted, so she put her hands on his chest and said, “I want to give you pleasure.”

He groaned and shook his head. “Sweetheart, I don’t know if I can let you—”

This time she finished his sentence with a kiss, pushing him flat on his back on the bed.

“You’re so beautiful,” she whispered as she ran kisses down his face, his shoulders, his chest. The deeply ridged muscles on his stomach rippled and tightened as she brushed her fingertips over the peaks and valleys.

His erection bumped into her forearm and she shifted her attention lower, to his impressive penis. Her mouth watered and she didn’t think, she just did what was natural and bent over to taste him. Her hair brushing against him made him groan again and then she was pressing her lips to the soft, hot skin stretched across the head of his cock. She’d never thought the word before, but it was the perfect description for his magnificent erection.

His hands threaded into her hair, helping her take him deeper. She was amazed by how sexy this was, how good it felt to give him such deep pleasure. She moved her mouth slowly back up, then down him, once, then twice. With every stroke of her tongue, he grew bigger, harder. And then, she was on her back on the bed and he was driving in between her thighs, and she was crying out his name.

They lay together in silence for several minutes as sunlight streamed in through his window. To say that Ginger had rocked his world wasn’t even cutting into the surface. Still, a warning light went off behind his breastbone, one he wanted to ignore but couldn’t.

He’d promised himself that he’d keep his distance. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her. Instead, not only had he been all over her last night, but they’d been in such a hurry all three times, they hadn’t used a condom. Hadn’t done a single thing to prevent diseases. Or pregnancy.

“Ginger, we need to talk.”

She scooted away from him slightly, pulled the sheet up to cover her gorgeous curves. “I knew you were going to say that.”

That was when he saw the faint scar on her shoulder. “Right there,” he said, running two fingers over the slightly discolored skin, from her collarbone all the way to the underside of her left breast. “That’s where you were burned.”

She nodded and he leaned closer to run kisses down her skin. “I’m sorry you had to feel that.”

Her fingers threaded into his hair. “I’m okay now,” she said. “Perfectly okay.”

The taste of her still on his tongue, somehow he managed, “We didn’t use anything. I haven’t been with a woman in a while. But the last time the fire station tested us, I was clean.”

“Me too.”

“What about—”

Jesus, he was breaking out in a sweat just thinking about the odds of becoming a father like this. All because he couldn’t keep his hands off her.

“Is this the right time of the month for—”

But she was already shaking her head and saying, “No. I don’t think I’m ovulating.”

She hadn’t blushed when she’d been taking him into her mouth, but now that they were talking about the repercussions of the mind-blowing sex they’d just had, both of them were uncomfortable.

“My cycle is pretty wonky, but I seriously doubt we’re in danger of anything like that.”

Relief shot through him and he finally let himself smile. “Good.”

“Yeah,” she said, even though she wasn’t smiling back. “It’s great.”

“We’ll have to be more careful next time.”

Her eyes flew to his. “Next time?”

“I told myself I was going to stay the hell away from you, but it was a lie, Ginger. Every last thing about you blows my mind. I don’t think I could keep my hands off you if I tried.”

She shivered, reached for him. “I don’t want you to.”

God, he hated the need to lay it all out like this. But there was no other way. Because if they were going to go forward, he had to make absolutely sure they were on the same page.

“You know I’m going back to Lake Tahoe after the summer to rejoin my crew, right?”

“Of course you will. They’re going to be lucky to have you back.”

She was so damn sweet, it seemed that she almost wanted his career as a hotshot back for him as much as he did. The warning light behind his breastbone shifted as it was shoved to the side by something else entirely.

Something he couldn’t possibly acknowledge.

He knew he shouldn’t reach for her until they were done talking, but he couldn’t help himself and slid her onto his lap anyway.

“Could we enjoy each other for the summer and agree to stay friends when we both go our separate ways?”

She didn’t say anything for several moments, confirming that he was asking for too much. Ginger should be saving herself for a good man, for someone who could give her a future.

Not wasting time on a dead end.

But then, when she smiled at him and said, “It sounds perfect,” he was so glad that he lifted her up and carried her into the bathroom to seal the deal, barely remembering at the last minute to reach into his dresser to grab a condom.

Turning on the shower with his free hand, he ran his hands over her hips, her waist, her breasts.

She reached over his shoulder. “How about I soap you up?”

She moved around behind him and started running the soap between his shoulder blades, down his back, along his arms. Sure, they’d made love repeatedly. She’d held his hands, stroked them, but to take the time to run a bar of soap over the parts of him that were so damaged, well, he wouldn’t ask that of anyone. Especially not when he knew damn well how sickened other women had been doing far less.

“You don’t have to do that.”

Her hands stilled. “Why wouldn’t I want to, Connor?”

His throat tightened, making it hard to say, “I know what my skin looks like. How bad it is.”

She moved back around the front of him. “How bad do you think it is?”

“It’s a mess,” he rasped out. “You don’t have to prove anything to me. What we’ve done is already enough.”

It had to be.

But she didn’t seem to be listening, because she had already dropped the soap to the floor and was lifting both of his hands to her lips. She kissed his knuckles and then the silvery gray skin where they’d stitched it together, the raised and bumpy patches where it had simply pulled away with his melted gloves.

And then she was putting his scarred hands against her chest, pressing his palms flat so that he could feel her heart beat beneath her breastbone.

“Don’t you dare try to tell me what I shouldn’t do, Connor. I’m a big girl. And I’m not scared of you. Not one single thing about you. Even if you think I should be.”

He kissed her then, and as he took her one more time, he couldn’t help but wonder where a woman this incredible could have come from.

And just what the hell he was going to do about her when it came time to head back to California. Without her.

Ginger couldn’t remember ever feeling this exhausted. Or this exhilarated.

Connor was her fantasy lover come to life. Big and strong, almost ruthless in his passion. She’d come violently every single time, and even when she hadn’t thought it could get better, it had.

He was wrapping a towel around her, his mouth on her neck, sending thrill bumps running across the surface of her body, when she realized the phone was ringing. Whoever it was, she’d just ignore it. Whatever they wanted, she’d deal with it later.

But instead of stopping, the phone kept ringing and ringing. Over and over until Connor finally lifted his head from that spot right between her breasts where he could run his tongue over both at once.

“Sounds like you’d better get that.”

More than a little irritated by the interruption, she tucked the towel under her arms and headed into her bedroom to pick up the cordless.

“Hello.”

An unfamiliar male voice greeted her on the other end. “Hi. Sorry to bother you, but this is Sam MacKenzie. Any chance my brother is there?”

Connor was just walking past her door to his bedroom, a towel slung low around his narrow hips. “Yes, he is. I’ll put him right on.” To Connor she said, “It’s Sam.”

Connor lifted an eyebrow in surprise as he took the phone. “What’s up?”

She couldn’t hear what Sam was saying, but as she watched Connor’s expression change back into that ice-cold rock she’d seen more than once, her concern morphed into full-on fear.

“Got it,” he finally said. “Nope. It’s fine. Talk to you later.”

“Connor?” She moved closer. “Did something happen?”

He didn’t say anything for quite a while, just stood there. His face was turned away from her so she couldn’t get a read on him as he said, “The Forest Service has been trying to get hold of me. They called Thursday, left a couple of messages at my house and on my cell. When they didn’t hear back, a friend of ours called Sam to make sure I was handling the news okay.”

Oh God, she knew what he was going to say. “What was the news?”

“I’m out. For good.”

His fingertips were numb as he dialed his voice mail to listen to the Forest Service director’s message.

“After reviewing your case again the Forest Service has decided not to put you back out in the field. And, as I’m sure you’re aware, you are at the end of the appeal process. A member of our reorganization program will be contacting you in a few days to discuss your new options within the Forest Service family. Again, we hope you’ll decide to stay on with the Forest Service in some capacity. You have been a great asset to our organization during the past decade and we are confident that you will be just as great of an asset in the future in whatever new role you take.”

New options?

Future?

From the day he’d graduated high school, Connor had been up in the mountains chasing wildfires. What the hell was he supposed to do with himself now? Teach from a book for the rest of his life? Wear a suit and get a paunch and tell the same stories over and over again about the “good old days” to the rookies?

He felt the bomb that had been building inside of him during the past two years start to detonate, slowly but surely. Blackness was swirling up from deep in his gut—a blackness that he hadn’t wanted to face, not even in the darkest days of his burns and skin grafts—like thick ink soaking straight into his cells.

Two years ago, everything had happened so fast he hadn’t had a chance to brace himself for the hit. Whereas this loss of everything he was, his world falling literally off its axis, was almost coming in slow motion.

But at the same time that the agony was prolonged, it gave him time to try to find something to hold on to, anything, just as long as it would keep his head above water for a little while longer.

Ginger’s arms came around him, then, and as she murmured how sorry she was, he realized the answer was right here.

As long as he could keep losing himself in Ginger, he might be able to keep the demons at bay.

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