Rapid Entry: Firehouse 69, Book 3 (2 page)

That snagged their attention.

Noah slipped an arm around his shoulder and leaned close. “Did the fire have you…fired up?”

Gage glared at the arm. “You know I don’t swing that way,” he growled.

“Sweetheart,” Noah said in falsetto, “Hoyt doesn’t give me that much leash.”

Gage shrugged him off. “I know you all have better things to do than ride my ass.”

The sound of someone clearing their voice behind them had every gaze turning toward the open door. Sunlight gleamed behind the full figure of the woman who’d claimed his attention since the first moment he’d spied her in Herman’s window.

She fluttered her fingers in a little wave. “I see you got my flowers.”

Gage cleared his own throat and stepped toward her. “I did. Thanks, but it wasn’t necessary.”

“Maybe not,” she said, stepping inside. “But I wanted to do something to thank you.”

“Also not necessary. It’s my job.”

“Maybe so.” A pretty pink blush flooded her cheeks, and she lifted a pointed finger to slide her glasses back up her nose. “And I’m guessing flowers aren’t your thing, so I wondered…”

Gage shook off the last of his irritation with the guys and came closer. “Wondered what, ma’am?”

“Whether you’d have dinner with me?”

The way she said it, in a fast blurt as though she expected him to refuse, had him wondering if she had any clue just how attractive she was. Sure, her frame had a little padding, but her curves were delicious. He lowered his voice. “Only if you let me buy. I’m a little old-fashioned that way.”

She gave a quick nod and flashed an even faster smile. “Great. I’m still at Herman’s. The apartment building’s insurance adjuster just left. The super already repaired the door. The only room I can’t make use of is the kitchen, or I’d cook.”

“You cook?”

She glanced down her figure. “Can’t you tell I like to eat?”

He didn’t like the way she joked about her figure. “We can go out, or you could let me pick up some steaks…”

“I’d like that,” she said. “The steaks, I mean.” She fiddled with her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear before glancing beyond his shoulder. “So the question is, when? I figured you’d probably be here overnight.”

He didn’t mind that she was a little pushy. From the pretty blush that continued to ride her cheeks, he was sure she wasn’t very comfortable being this aggressive. But he sure appreciated the effort. Especially in front of his friends. “Yeah, shift ends tomorrow morning, and I’ll have plenty of time to rest before tomorrow night.” He barely managed to hide a wince at his choice of words. He didn’t want to scare her away by giving her the impression he’d need rest because he meant to sleep with her, although seeing her now, that’s exactly what he hoped. Dressed in a red blouse and black leggings with killer black heels, he wondered whether the underwear she wore was as pretty as the creamy lace from the night before.

Again, she cleared her throat, bringing up his gaze to her face.

“Then…I guess I’ll be over tomorrow night?”

He drew a deep breath. “I’ll come for you,” he said and gave her a smile. She’d be over. Cooking in his place. He’d have her all to himself, and she didn’t look the least bit uncomfortable with that idea.

Chuckles sounded behind him, and he turned to glare, careful to reform his expression before meeting her gaze again. She stood there a second too long, not making a move to leave. “Is there something else I can help you with?” he asked.

“I don’t suppose you’d give me a tour of the firehouse? I’m a writer, and I guess that makes me really curious about…everything.”

Glad for the excuse to lose the chuckleberries looming behind him and to hold on to her attention for just a little longer, he waved his arm. “After you.”

As she headed toward the corridor that led to the rec area, he couldn’t help that his gaze dropped to her very generous bottom.

“Damn, Gage,” Coop said, staring after her. “Her picture didn’t do her justice.”

Feeling very territorial, Gage backhanded Coop’s belly as he passed. “Get lost, or I’ll tell Moira you were ogling another woman’s backside.”

He didn’t care that he’d betrayed his interest to his crew. They could stuff it where the sun didn’t shine. All that mattered was that Viviana had sent him flowers, and that she wanted to see him again. How much of him she wanted to see, well, a guy could dream.

Chapter Two

Viv stared at the screen of her cell phone and groaned.

Her editor had just texted her.
“This shit’s gone viral! Your naked ass is all over the Internet.”

Mary Toomey had the vocabulary of a sailor. Which was probably why she’d never blinked at the first story by Viviana Moore that had crossed her desk eight years ago.

Since the fire two nights ago, Mary had been crowing over the attention Viv was getting. “Your numbers are going through the roof! Can you set the bedroom on fire next?”

Viv glared.
Seriously?
Okay, so maybe that thought had crossed her mind too. Especially after getting a good look at the fireman up close at his station house yesterday. Tall, dark, and broody pushed every one of her buttons.

She’d gladly humiliate herself in front of the world if he gave her one of
those
looks again. She remembered the tour he’d given her of the station, his buddies doing their best to look like they weren’t watching closely. Tension had ridden Gage’s shoulders, and while he’d pitched scary glares at his buddies, he’d given her a look she found hard to describe. One word wouldn’t do. He’d looked as though he imagined crawling right on top of her. Like he’d kiss her silly, then do it again while he bared her skin, inch by inch. Okay, so maybe one word would do. He’d looked
hungry
.

Her phone dinged again, and she frowned. If Mary had her way, she’d coach Viv into manufacturing more public moments, each bigger than the next. But Viv doubted Gage would be into that. And being in the public was very much against her own true nature. Like most writers, she was an introvert and preferred her own company, or the company of her characters, to most people.

Although she’d certainly make an exception for the handsome firefighter. He was the first man in too long to tempt her from her writer’s den. Maybe she was a little rusty holding a conversation with a man, but he hadn’t seemed to mind her clumsy invitation. She hadn’t always been this closed off, this inept.

Viv took a deep breath and pushed the memories aside. Something she had to do less and less as time wore on. Thankfully, her sorrow no longer ate at her constantly. She could get out of bed. She could work, although she really didn’t need to. Not for a while anyway. Mike had made sure of that.

Mike. Even thinking his name made her chest hurt, so she didn’t most days. His death had been long enough ago, she could go through the motions of being normal, long enough until she felt as though she really were.

She checked her watch. It was nearly six p.m.
Normal
would be to bathe and primp for her first real date in forever. With a sexy firefighter. She could almost hear Mike in her mind,
Atta girl, Viv. Time to move on, sweetheart.

* * * * *

Gage stood in front of Herman’s door, pausing to clear his throat and take a deep breath before he knocked.

A moment later, really too quickly for her not to have been hovering there, Viv opened the door.

Taking in the sight of her, he nearly let his jaw drop but caught himself just in time.

Viviana Moore looked every inch the sexy siren her author photo promised on her website. He knew because Coop had emailed him a link. All the guys had emailed him links to her pictures, to naughty excerpts from her books. Maybe another guy would be intimidated by her wide knowledge of kink, but Gage was a card-carrying member of La Forge. There, Gage had seen and done plenty. If the woman wanted to play, he was her man.

And she certainly looked as though she wanted something. Her gaze skimmed his body, and he was glad he hadn’t opted for his usual T-shirt and jeans, but instead wore a buttoned shirt, sleeves rolled at the wrist, and dark khaki pants. Her gaze snagged on his chest again, doing that little side-to-side glance, which gave him time to look as well.

Barely breathing, he took her in. Her dark hair was smooth. The edges that touched her shoulders looked soft like feathers. She wore makeup—a pretty, shiny peach on her eyelids and smoke at the edges. And she hadn’t gunked up her eyelashes with mascara. They looked naturally dark and thick. Her lips. Lord, looking at her mouth glossed with red made his cock feel heavy, because hell, he could already imagine where he’d love for her to lose that gloss.

Quickly, he glanced downward, but there was no help for his growing arousal there. Viviana was…voluptuous. Not a word he used
ever
, but it fit. Her shape was extra curvy, nice full breasts, an indented waist, broad hips. Lord, he loved a well-padded ass and had no doubts hers would make him want to howl. But first things, first. “You still up for cooking? You don’t have to—”

“Yes. Please,” she said, her voice as soft as the rest of her.

“Okay,” he murmured and stepped to the side, indicating with his hand toward the inside of his apartment.

Following closely, he was just as appreciative of the view of her back and bottom.
If I’m reading her wrong, I’m in all kinds of trouble.

Since the floor plan for his apartment was identical to Herman’s, she had no trouble finding the kitchen. He’d laid steaks on a platter on the counter, pans on the stove. Potatoes were already washed, quartered, and sitting in a colander in the sink. He’d stripped corn husks and set the ears to boil.

She pushed up her sleeves and headed straight to the steaks.

“Would you like a glass of wine while you cook?”

“That would be nice.”

But she didn’t pause to even glance back, going to work with a focus he found amusing.

By the time he’d opened the bottle and poured her drink, she’d already rubbed the steak with spices and heated a little oil in a pan. Before too long, the aroma of cooking meat filled the apartment. She washed her hands and reached for the glass of Merlot he’d poured.

Then her glance traveled around the open space. His kitchen was open to the living and dining area. And for once, he wished he’d spent a little time making it…nicer. Sure, it was functional. The leather couch was deep but scarred. He didn’t have much furniture, just a table to set his beer on, a cabinet for his TV and DVD collection. Hand weights were stacked in the corner.

The walls were another thing, covered in pictures—of his firehouse and team, of the places he’d traveled.

“You’ve been to St. Thomas?” she said, striding toward one larger picture of him with Billy and Coop. A trip they’d taken before Billy had married.

“Yeah. It was a good trip. Didn’t do much. Sat on a beach, fished. Mostly drank too much with my buddies.”

“Sounds like fun.”

“It was.” Gage forced a smile when her glance cut his way. He didn’t want to think about Billy. Most days, he didn’t look at the picture at all. Why hadn’t he stored it away?

“That’s Coop,” she said, pointing at his friend.

“Yeah, you met him yesterday.” When her gaze landed on Billy, he took a deep breath. “That’s Billy Truitt. We lost him last year.”

She turned more slowly this time to look at him. “Was it a fire?”

He nodded, and she reached out, touching his forearm. “I’m sorry.”

Gage gave her a tight smile. “He was a good guy. Left a family behind.”

She shook her head. “I know about loss, Gage.”

And then she did something that stole his breath. She leaned in to him and wrapped her arms around him, giving him a squeeze before backing away. “I better turn those steaks.”

As she walked away, he could still feel the impression of her body against him, and he didn’t know what it meant, but she’d felt just right. Perfect. All those soft curves flush against him. Again, his body tightened.

Dinner was quiet. They both tucked into their meal, and from the first bite, he didn’t have to lie about how much he enjoyed it. She blushed every time she caught him staring.

“So, did the guys give you a hard time about me visiting yesterday?” she asked as she pushed back her empty plate.

“They had fun with the flowers,” he muttered.

Her eyebrows rose. “Oh?”

“Yeah, someone tore up some of the roses and spread petals on my bunk. Another put a flower on my pillow.”

She chuckled, and her smile was wide. “Sorry about that.”

“The roses were better than the constant taunts about YouTube comments.”

Her cheeks flushed darker. “I don’t know what
you
have to be embarrassed about.”

“I was the naked one.”

“But you’re…perfect,” she said, waving a hand toward his body.

“And you think you aren’t?” When her expression tightened, he knew that was exactly what she thought. “Seriously, Viviana?” He stood, reached for her hand, and pulled her from her chair. He raked his gaze over her. “There isn’t a man in that firehouse who isn’t envious of me being here with you.”

She tucked her hair behind one ear but didn’t meet his gaze. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’ll have sex with you.”

He stared as her cheeks turned a deeper red. “I don’t know whether to be insulted or to kiss you.”

“I hope it’s the kiss, because I think my mouth needs to be busy before I say something else stupid.”

He tucked a finger under her chin and raised her face, forcing her gaze to meet his. “Baby, you’re hot. There’s not an inch of you I don’t want to touch or kiss. So don’t rush this if you don’t want me all over you.” Her jaw sagged, and he tipped it upward again, closing her mouth. “You don’t know you’re gorgeous?”

“I’m fat.”

He shook his head. “Do I look like I’m not attracted?” When she still looked doubtful, he reached for her hand and brought it to his cock. “Think I’m this way for every woman I meet?”

She gave a little shrug, which angered him, and he pressed her hand around him, molding her fingers over his thickness. “Since the first second I saw you in your underwear, I’ve been ready. Hard. Fucking hoping for a chance.”

She swallowed and gave him a look from under the thick fringe of her dark lashes. “Why did you waste so much time?”

As though she’d tossed a lit match at kerosene, he ignited, pulling her against him.

She hesitated for only a moment before pressing closer, mashing her breasts against his chest, rubbing her belly against his hardness. When he slanted his head, she was there, opening her mouth, accepting his kiss, inviting him inside.

Gage groaned and wrapped his arms around her, one hand reaching for her well-rounded bottom, the fingers of his other hand sinking into her silky hair to hold her still while he ravaged her mouth.

She was sweet and hot, and all that softness was his to push against, and he did, letting her know he wasn’t going to be gentle, that he was damn near desperate now to be inside her.

She tugged at his shirt, freeing it from his pants, and then glided her warm hands up his back, nails raking his skin. A quiver shook him, and he drew back, bent and picked her up. Her yelp was satisfying as he carried her down the hallway leading to his bedroom. He gave her a narrowed glare. “I’m a fireman. Think I can’t handle you?”

She gave him an equally hot glare. “Do you always talk so much?”

He grunted and angled his way into his bedroom, taking three more steps before he dumped her onto his bed. Then he went to work, stripping quickly. Her eyes widened. “You’ve seen everything,” he said. “Don’t you think it’s my turn?”

She shimmied out of her shirt, kicked her heels toward the floor, and wriggled out of her leggings. By the time he was nude, she wore only blush-colored scraps of underwear—a bra with cups that supported but didn’t cover a thing and bikini panties that hid too much.

After cloaking himself in a condom, he crawled onto the mattress—so quickly she startled and scrambled backward, but he didn’t let her retreat far, grabbing an ankle and pulling her across the cotton coverlet toward him, her other leg still bent as she tried to push away. But he was already there, already running his mouth up the smooth skin of her inner thigh. When he kissed her pussy through her panties, she reached down to push back his face, but he nuzzled under her hand and licked the material, following the length of her slit and ending at the top of her folds. There, he latched on to her, sucking, wetting the material until it was no barrier at all, and she was shaking.

When she pumped her hips against his mouth, he gripped the thinnest section of her panties and ripped them, laying the material open before bending again and touching her clit with his tongue. Fuck, she was wet. He wanted her wild. Wanted her clawing at him. Needed to know he could get her off like this. With just his tongue.

He thumbed up the hood and rubbed the flat of his tongue over her sensitive nubbin, listening as she hissed, watching as she writhed and arched. So beautiful. Still wearing that useless bra. Pausing, he raised his head to stare at it. “Take it off.”

Her eyelids were lowered but not closed. She knew he watched. Smoothing her hands over the tops of her breasts, she plumped them up, slipping fingers beneath the cups to fondle her nipples.

Gage opened his mouth and drew on her clit, sucking so hard her legs drew up and wide, and she mewed like a kitten up a tree. At last, unsnapping the bra and drawing away the sides, her hands molded her breasts and pushed them toward him, offering him a glimpse of cherry nipples.

A temptation he couldn’t resist. He gave her mound a kiss and climbed upward, rubbing his chest over her belly, her breasts, letting his cock slide up her inner thigh and between her folds. He gave her a nudge, and then another, not entering. Waiting for her to be sure.

When she wrapped her hand around his length and pulled him upward, forcing him deeper, he dropped his head beside hers and turned to lock their gazes. “You still okay with this?”

“I will be,” she said, her voice taut. She dug her fingernails into his backside.

He flexed his hips and burrowed his cock deeper in her slick heat. “Careful,” he said, nipping her jaw, and then her bottom lip. “This might get rough.”

“A girl can hope.”

Rising above her, he braced his weight on his arms and plunged inside her.

Viv tilted her head, pushing into the pillow beneath her, and stared at the ceiling. God, this feeling. She’d fucking missed it so much.
So…fucking…much
. He was hard and huge, and plowing her with vigor, something she couldn’t return because he took away her breath, each plunge expelling the air from her lungs in hard gusts. She stopped worrying about keeping her belly and breasts tensed to keep them from jiggling, let her hands fall beside her head on the pillow and gave herself over to the pleasure of having a strong man pound inside her.