Reckless (24 page)

“Nothing.” Laughter whispered past her lips for emphasis. God, she'd never felt so perfect in her life. “But this is you and me, together, right?”

“Of course.”

Zoe kissed him, taking the condom from him before running her fingers down the flat plane of his abs. “Then I want to give you everything, too. Please, Alex. Don't just take me. Let me in. Let me have you right back.”

He didn't protest, and Zoe didn't wait. Letting her hand travel lower, she wrapped her fingers around his cock, a thrill sparking through her blood at the groan grating up from his throat. She pumped slowly, pressing her body into Alex's side as they knelt face-to-face on the mattress. He tilted his hips into the movement of her hand, letting his head fall to the side as she kissed her way from his shoulder down to the fold of muscle just above his heart.

But stopping was the last thing on her mind, and Zoe slid her tongue even lower, using her free hand to push Alex's knees farther apart. The sharp lines of muscle wrapped around each of his hips pointed her to exactly what she wanted. Bending lower at the waist, she kissed her way between his legs, replacing the fingers on his cock with her mouth.

“Holy . . .” Alex finished the sentence with a hiss, and Zoe's lips curled into a smile before parting to take him in again. She added her hand back into play, circling her fingers to stroke the base of his cock while she tasted the rest of him with her lips and tongue. His palms turned to fists at his sides, one falling open over her shoulder as her ministrations picked up speed. Alex's exhales gave way to moans, each one daring her into the next glide of her mouth. But Zoe had meant what she'd said. She didn't just want to give herself up to him, as exquisitely good as he made her feel. It was the give coupled with the take that made Zoe burn for Alex hotter than she'd ever thought possible. She'd never wanted anyone with so much pure, sweet intensity.

And she wanted this forever.

“Zoe,” he ground out, his fingertips turning into the heated skin of her shoulder. “This night is going to have a different ending than you're expecting if you keep that up.”

She pulled back to look at him, caught between an honest question and a grin. “Is that what you want?”

Alex bit out a curse, but he guided her back to the bedsheets anyway. “Not this time.” He knelt between her parted legs, reaching for the condom she'd placed on the sheets. Seconds later, he divided the cradle of her hips with his body. All the longing banked in Zoe's blood came charging back as the hot length of his cock slipped over her entrance, and she canted her hips upward for more contact.

“Don't hold back,” she whispered. Alex angled himself over her, spreading his hands wide on either side of her shoulders and closing the space between both their bodies and faces to mere inches.

“You either,” he said, his voice going as soft as his stare.

“You and me, remember?”

Zoe's breath caught in her lungs. “Together.”

Alex filled her with a slow thrust, and she was helpless against the cry spilling past her lips. For a minute, he stayed perfectly still, their bodies joined together and their breath twining between them.

Then he started to move, and Zoe nearly lost her mind.

Steadying his weight between his hands, Alex drew back, the friction of his cock sending bursts of sensation through her oversensitive core. Her muscles squeezed to accommodate the movement, her body growing slicker with need as he pushed back into her heat. Zoe rocked up to meet each thrust, wrapping her hands around the hard curve of his ass to keep him locked against her as she moved. She dug her heels into the mattress, her hips bucking into the slide of his body as he plunged into her sex. Release unraveled from deep between her legs in a hot curl, daring her to break apart in Alex's arms.

“Together, baby,” he said, the promise raking over her skin as he dipped his mouth forward to kiss her. “And I've got you. I swear.”

Zoe arched up to meet him in one last thrust of her hips before she climaxed hard, her pulse racing through her veins while pleasure rolled through her in one surge after another. Alex never stopped making love to her—not when she screamed his name, not when her fingernails curved into the small of his back to keep him close, and not even when she was so filled with bright, beautiful sensation that she couldn't do anything but gasp for breath. He pushed up to his knees, gripping her hips to keep her flush against his cock as he rocked into her over and again, until finally, his hands trembled at her sides.

“
Christ,
Zoe, I . . .”

She grabbed his wrists, dug in tight. “I've got you, too, Alex. Don't hold back.”

He came on a harsh moan, thrusting inside her to the hilt. Zoe blinked up at him, a ribbon of shock spiraling through her at the vulnerability in his release, and the way that even caught up in his pleasure, he was looking right back at her. After one last exhale, Alex lowered his chest to hers, the rapid thump of his heart beating a pattern against her breastbone.

“Together,” he whispered. “Just like this.”

And as they lay there, surrounded by shadow and caught up in nothing but each other, Zoe knew with undeniable certainty that she was one hundred percent, completely over the line, insanely in love with Alex Donovan.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Alex stood outside the battalion chief's office, fiddling with the buttons on his uniform shirt and trying to convince himself not to puke. He didn't get nervous often, but like everything else in his wheelhouse, when it happened, it was an all-in type of affair. Considering his freaking job was on the line, he'd give himself some leeway in the feeling-a-little-tense department.

Provided he got reinstated and not shit-canned.

“Donovan.” Captain Westin's voice slipped through Alex's gut-clenching thoughts, delivering a fresh batch of
other
gut-clenching thoughts, and Jesus Christ, Alex wasn't going to make it through this day.

But it wasn't his fault he'd gone and fallen for his captain's daughter. Or that the thought of her was the only thing keeping him from losing his fucking marbles right now.

“Hey, Cap.” Alex tried on a smile, reaching out to shake Westin's hand. “Thanks for asking the chief to schedule this hearing as soon as possible.” The first Monday morning slot must've cost Westin a few withdrawals from the favor bank, and hell if the realization didn't pang through Alex's gut with renewed vigor.

One corner of Westin's mouth kicked up. “I've been down a man on Engine for four weeks, Alex. I know you think highly of yourself, but I assure you, my motivations aren't entirely selfless.”

Alex coughed out a laugh, his nerves scattering. “Fair enough.” He opened his mouth to tack on a joke to lighten the mood even further, but a figure down at the end of the hallway caught his attention. “We've got a second, right?” he asked, jutting his chin at the door with the chief's name emblazoned across the glass in gold lettering.

“Yes, but . . .” Westin's gaze narrowed in confusion before going momentarily wide as he followed Alex's stare. “Donovan, this isn't a good idea.”

Of course Westin was balls-on accurate. Not that it changed Alex's mind.

He turned toward the spot where Captain McManus stood at the end of the wide expanse of linoleum and office doorways. “I'll be right back.”

Alex's boots thumped out a steady rhythm, his heartbeat kicking in to match it as he made his way down the hall. McManus's normally shifty stare hardened a few degrees at the sight of Alex approaching, but the man stood firm, arms crossed into a menacing knot over his navy-blue uniform shirt.

“What do you want, Donovan?”

Alex inhaled on a five-count before saying, “I want to offer you an apology.”

The thin line of McManus's lips fell open. “I'm sorry?”

“No, sir. I'm sorry,” Alex said, drawing his shoulders tight around his spine. This was going to sting, but the words were still due. Even if it had taken him a while to realize it. “I know you and I had differing opinions on how to run that warehouse fire. While I stand by my reasoning, my actions were out of line, and for that, I apologize.”

“You apologize,” McManus said, disdain darkening the word like a heavy layer of soot. “That's rich, coming from you. But it's going to take more than just slick talk to get you out of this.”

Alex shook his head in a clipped back and forth, his response all truth. “I'm not trying to get out of anything.”

“Well, good, because I'm still going to recommend that you get sanctioned up to your ass.” McManus glared, and although Alex's molars came together hard enough to test their fortitude, he refused to give in to the impulsive urge to tell the guy to get bent.

“That's your prerogative, sir. I stand by my apology either way.”

After a minute of silence on Alex's part and a whole lot of nasty scowling on McManus's, Alex stepped back to break the stalemate. He turned on his heel, retracing his steps back to the spot where Captain Westin had moved closer to listen in.

“Well. I have to admit, that's not what I was expecting from you,” Westin said quietly, his eyes showing his surprise.

Alex straightened the front of his shirt, smoothing his fingers over the FFD crest stitched over the pocket by his heart. “It was the truth. There
is
a difference between recklessness and bravery. Even though McManus and I have our differences, and God knows he pisses me off to no end, I still needed a wake-up call to remember where the line is.”

“It takes a hell of a man to admit something like that,” Westin said, but Alex wasn't about to ditch all his personality traits just yet.

“It's cool. I might've screwed up by knocking McManus down, but we're still going to beat his ass in this year's softball tourney.” Christ, he was practically salivating just thinking about it.

Westin's laugh only lasted for a minute before his expression slid back into seriousness. “You might've done a stupid thing, but you're a good man, Donovan. What you did for Zoe at Hope House this month . . .” He trailed off, and Alex's mouth went Sahara Desert dry.

“It was all part of community service,” he croaked, and okay, yeah, the lie tasted like a mouthful of ashes with a battery acid chaser.

“You had her back out there at that soup kitchen, even when you didn't want to be there.” Westin extended his hand, the pure gratitude in his expression sending Alex's gut into a free fall toward his knees. “I'm grateful, son.”

Oh God, he was on the bullet train straight to hell. He and Zoe had agreed to come clean to her father together, in private, where he'd be able to get used to the idea of them as a couple on his own terms, but damn it, holding back now in the face of the man's sincerity just felt like a lie. Alex opened his mouth, the truth tearing a path toward his lips.

And then the door to the battalion chief's office swung open, killing his confession before it could even fully form.

“Alex Donovan?” the chief's assistant asked, and Alex nodded mutely over his slamming pulse. “Chief Williams will see you now.”

He auto-piloted his way into the chief's office, his spine at full attention. Captains Westin and McManus filed in after him, leaving Chief Williams's assistant to close the glass-paned door with a heavy
thunk
.

“Gentlemen.” The chief addressed all three of them with his trademark steely stare. “This is familiar territory for us, so I think we can skip the pleasantries.”

“Yes, Chief,” Alex said, revisiting his compulsion to throw up. But Chief Williams hadn't earned his reputation as a hard-ass by selling Girl Scout cookies, and in truth, he wasn't wrong about how many times Alex's file had turned up on his desk. They went through a brief recounting of the events of the warehouse fire, both via the official report and McManus's overblown account. Captain Westin filled in a few blanks, bringing the overall story to a way more unbiased level, and McManus countered by blustering on about Alex's shortcomings. Finally—thankfully—Chief Williams cut the whole bitch fest short with a lift of his hand.

“Donovan, you've been unexpectedly quiet over there. Do you have anything you'd like to say?”

Alex paused, pulling a deep breath into his overtight lungs. “I can't argue the events of the warehouse fire in question,” he admitted. “They pretty much speak for themselves per the report. In the same way that Captain McManus didn't appreciate my challenging his orders, I didn't appreciate him putting his hands on me.”

McManus opened his mouth with the clear intent of protesting, but Chief Williams killed the move with a brows-up stare. “Captain, please don't insult my intelligence with an argument here. You've made your thoughts more than plain, and the report contains several statements corroborating a mutual shoving match between you two.”

A crimson flush crept over the captain's face, but he had the wherewithal to keep his trap shut, so Alex continued. “It was my goal at that warehouse fire to do what I thought would keep people safe. I don't set out to be reckless on purpose, but I don't shy away from my job, either. I regret the way this incident played out,” he said, the truth of the statement ringing in his ears. “But I assure you, Chief. I'm prepared to return to Station Eight and do my job to the best of my ability. All I want to do is fight fires and serve the community of Fairview.”

Chief Williams paused for only a second before tapping the manila file folder on top of his desk. “I'm going to be blunt, Donovan. Your track record doesn't speak well for you, and your behavior at this warehouse fire is the crown jewel of your bad choices. Fires are dangerous enough, even when everyone involved in fighting them respects the chain of command.”

Alex's palms went instantly damp, his
yes, sir
wedging in his throat. There had to be some way to make Chief Williams understand how desperately he needed this job, and he scrambled to come up with something—Christ,
anything
—to plead his case.

But the man beat him to the punch. “However . . . both Captain Westin and your peers speak very highly of your skills as a firefighter, as well as your dedication. You've had an entire month to cool off, during which time you've gone above and beyond to complete your community service assignment. All things considered, I believe we can call this one a draw. I'm reinstating you to active duty, effective immediately.”

Relief took the slingshot route through Alex's chest at the same moment McManus blurted out a heated “
What?
”

The chief turned his gaze on McManus. “Donovan might not have been in the right in this situation, but neither were you, Captain. I'd like to advise you to think twice next time you're tempted to put your hands on another firefighter. You're a superior officer in this department. I expect you to act like one. Am I clear?”

McManus paused before finally mumbling, “Yes, sir.”

Chief Williams shifted, splitting his scissor-sharp stare between Alex and Captain Westin. “As for you, Donovan. The next time I see you in this office, I'd better be awarding you a commendation. If you so much as put your uniform on crooked, I will show you the door permanently, and I won't lose a second's sleep over it.”

Alex nodded past the slamming
whoosh
of his pulse in his ears. Holy shit. His job was safe.
He
was safe. “Thank you, sir.”

But the chief just raised one gray brow, his expression going steel-tipped and serious. “Don't thank me yet. You're the one who has to stay in line. Now get out of my office, would you? You've got a shift to prepare for.”

Zoe stood on the neatly kept threshold of Station Eight, the warmth of the late-April sunshine nothing in comparison to the all-out burn spreading through her shoulders. She balanced the two oversized food trays full of mac and cheese more firmly between her palms, wondering if maybe she'd overdone it just a little in the kitchen today. But with the grant proposal having been turned in for a whole workweek and the food drive being complete, Zoe had found herself at loose ends on her Friday off. Alex was on shift, and she'd needed some way to burn all of her nervous energy while she waited for news on the Collingsworth Grant. She'd heard rumblings that the committee had already culled the front-runners from the rest of the applicants, which meant in theory, Hope House could be that much closer to getting the money it so desperately needed.

On second thought, maybe Zoe hadn't cooked enough.

The muscles in her shoulders burned with a fresh wave of exertion, and she snapped back to attention on Station Eight's threshold. The trio of overstuffed grocery bags looped over her wrists gave up a loud crinkle as she shifted her weight, extending her elbow in an awkward attempt to ring the buzzer.

“Whoa! Hey, let me help you with that.” Jones slipped in from behind her to trade the broom in his grasp for both trays.

Zoe's shoulders sang with relief. “Whew, thanks, Mike.”

“No sweat,” Jones said, lifting the trays full of mac and cheese with a slight smile. “Did you cook all of this?”

She bit her bottom lip and gave a well-yeah half shrug, but she'd needed the outlet, and cooking for everyone at Station Eight had calmed her. At least, as much as anything could right now. “If there's one thing I learned ages ago, it's to never come to a firehouse unless you plan to knock with your elbows.”

As if the presence of food had somehow stirred the energy in the building, Cole and Crews stuck their heads down the hallway from the junction into the main common area. “Zoe!” they called out in near unison, and she burst into a smile.

“Hey, you guys. I thought you might like a little dinner.”

“Rookie.” Crews met them halfway down the hall, delivering a hearty nudge to Jones's shoulder. “You just totally got sprung from KP. Thank freaking God.”