The Hot Line (10 page)

Jenna rolled her eyes heavenward and planted her hands on her hips. “What are you, twelve?”

Ignoring her, Megan said, “Live a little. Have an adventure.” She grabbed another pair of skimpy panties. Her eyes sparkled as she examined them. “Ooh, how about these?”

“Whoa. Hold it right there, Megan. Those panties are far too skimpy for me to parade around in.”

Megan’s grin turned wicked. She held the panties out. “So you’ll do it then?”

In spite of herself, Jenna laughed. “Yeah, right after I hang myself.”

After giving Nick a lift to the liquor mart, Dean pulled into his friend’s circular driveway and killed the engine. He reached for his door handle, but a movement behind the big bay window gained his attention and stopped him cold. The sight of one very curvy, luscious woman—the same woman who’d had his libido in an uproar since she’d arrived in Chicago—drew his focus and rattled him more than dice in a Yahtzee cup.

Jenna.

His thoughts scattered like dust in the wind and his body grew needy at the mere sight of her. Earlier in the evening, after catching a glimpse of her lush backside as she leaned over a stack of lingerie, he thought he’d go mad with the need to fuck her. Ever since he’d set eyes on her, his mind had been swimming with naughty, delicious ideas. Ideas like how good it would feel to cradle that magnificent ass of hers while she stood before him in one of her most daring, most provocative pieces.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and shifted in his seat, his raging hard-on causing him a great deal of discomfort as it fought to break free from its zippered cage.

Something about Cassie’s friend from Iowa had reminded him that all work and no play had made for some very interesting—and very scandalous—fantasies of late.

Jesus, what he’d do to see her in that sexy red-hot teddy from her new line. What was it she called it again? Oh yeah, the Siren line. Siren, all right. One glimpse of that barely there lingerie had all his sirens going off without warning. He could only imagine how he’d react if he actually saw the little spitfire in that sexy getup. He’d likely blow a fuse and cause a citywide blackout.

Not that he ever expected to see her wearing the red teddy, however. Jenna had barely spared him a glance since their first meeting. Not only did she take to him like a cat to water, but she also went out of her way to avoid him whenever possible. The sexy siren always seemed so agitated when he was around, like his nearness was right up there with a bee swarming by her.

Dean didn’t ordinarily let his libido rule his actions, but the thought of seeing that luscious body of hers all decked out in her professional attire, while he imagined, or rather fantasized, about what she wore under it, propelled him into motion.

He twisted around, reached into the backseat, and grabbed two bottles of wine. “I’ll help you carry these in.” Even though Cassie had ushered him out the door earlier, warning him that the show was for married couples and industry professionals only, Megan and Sara seemed to have other plans. He wasn’t sure what they were up to, or why they’d asked him to stop back later, but he sure as hell wanted to find out.

Nick shot him a knowing glance and snatched the bottles from his hands. “If I let you through that door, Cassie will have my balls.”

Dean snorted and slapped Nick on the back. “I hate to break it to you, Nick, but she already has your balls.”

Nick slapped Dean in return. “Don’t worry, pal. Maybe an intelligent, sexy woman will want your balls someday, too.” The crazy son of a bitch flashed a smart-assed grin, his voice full of laughter.

Dean held his palms up. “Every girl I’ve ever been with has tried to
crush
my balls.”

Nick’s grin broadened. “Maybe they just weren’t the right girls for you.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Dean said, rolling one shoulder. “Either way I’m off relationships.” He ran through his motto: Keep it light, keep it simple, keep it sexy. Casual sex he could handle, but relationships, forget about it.

Nick reached for the door handle, but before he climbed from the passenger seat, he said, “One of these days you’ll get it, Dean. You’ll know what I’m talking about. The right woman will come along and you’ll be down on your knees in record time.”

Dean had no problem going down on his knees. In fact he loved going down on his knees. As long as it had nothing to do with a marriage proposal.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Dean said, shaking his head adamantly. “I’d rather take matters into my own hands than be shackled to the old ball and chain.” Grinning, he rubbed his palms together, emphasizing his point. “No woman is going to run my life and dictate my every movement.” He’d had enough of that possessive behavior from Kate Saunders, the model Cassie had set him up with months ago. Even though they’d broken up, she still hung out at the Hose and clung to him like dryer lint. The truth was he had more important things on his plate, like finishing his psychology thesis if he wanted to move beyond active duty to counseling fellow firefighters injured on the job.

Nick cast him a skeptical glance and then took note of the time. “Shit, I gotta go. We’re running late and I hate for Cassie to worry.”

Groaning, Dean snagged the rest of the bottles from the backseat and murmured, “Talk about pussy-whipped.” With little time to spare before he made his way to the station, he climbed from the driver’s seat, slipped his keys into his front pocket, and hastily made his way to the back entrance.

They found Cassie standing at the door anxiously awaiting their arrival. Once they stepped inside, she quickly grabbed Nick’s hand and ushered him into the living room. “What took you so long? The show is almost over and I need your help to pick out the perfect negligee for our wedding night.” She winked at Nick. “Not that it’s going to be on long.”

Over his shoulder, Nick cast Dean a wry grin. “Now that’s what I’m talking about.”

Dean threw his head back and laughed out loud. Smart-ass son of a bitch!

After depositing the wine on the counter next to the cheese and fruit trays, Dean popped a strawberry into his mouth and followed Nick into the living room. When he rounded the corner and took in the vision before him, his brain nearly shut down.

Sweet Mother of God!

What he expected to see was Jenna all decked out in her business attire. What he saw instead left him with the inability to form a coherent thought.

Scented candles, strategically placed around the room, gave off a soft, romantic glow and set the stage for seduction. His body began trembling with pent-up need as he watched Jenna parade around the room in a sexy red negligee—the same negligee that had been invading his thoughts for the last few hours.

The silky fabric clung to her flesh like a second skin and showcased her supple figure to perfection. Unlike the other waiflike girls he’d dated, Jenna was the epitome of lush femininity. Soft, round, and luscious in all the right places. The kind of woman he could take to his bed and keep there forever. Now why in the hell had it taken him so long to figure out just how much he loved a curvy woman?

He bit on his strawberry and momentarily ignored the juice dribbling down his chin. Craning his neck for a better view of Jenna, he let his gaze wander, taking pleasure in the sight of her luscious, half-naked body. Wavering candlelight bathed her body in a seductive glow and glistened on her flesh. Jesus, the woman had a body made for sex.

With him.

Right here.

Right now.

He swallowed his strawberry and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. Damn, what he’d do to bite into a ripe berry and drip the sweet nectar all over her perfect body and then lave it clean.

Rosy nipples puckered beneath the thin fabric and drew his focus. Suddenly it took effort to think and breathe. As he devoured her from afar, a rush of sexual energy hit him so hard he faltered backward. Shifting his stance he drove his hands into his pockets and leaned against the doorframe. Without question, she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever set eyes on.

There was nothing he could do to deter his cock from rising to the occasion. A low growl of longing crawled out of his throat and gained the crowd’s attention. Jenna angled her body, her gaze brushing over the room. When her green eyes locked on his, she stopped midstride. Her mouth formed an O, but no sound came out. A soft red hue traveled up her neck and colored her cheeks. For a minute he wondered if that sexy red blush had also reached her nipples. He licked his lips, his mouth watering to find out.

Body aching to join with hers, Dean stood there, gauging her reactions, tracking her every movement, thinking about how good she’d feel between his legs.

They stared at each other for a long moment, and then something in her gave. Equal amounts of surprise and pleasure raced through him when Jenna swept her gaze down the length of him, her perusal pausing briefly around the vicinity of his crotch. Holy hell! Her visual caress ignited his blood to near boiling and threw him off guard. Jenna had the ability to set him on fire with just one smoldering look.

He was barely able to leash his control when her pretty tongue snaked out to moisten her plump, red-painted lips.

Mmmm…more red. That particular shade was quickly becoming his favorite color.

Dean pulled in a quick breath as Jenna’s eyes traveled back up to meet his. In that instant, when their gazes collided, they shared a long heated look—one that screamed of passion, sex, and long, lusty nights.

Sweat collected on his brow and it took every ounce of strength he possessed not to cross that room and ravish her, caveman-style.

As sexual awareness leapt between them, Jenna drew her bottom lip between her teeth and folded her arms over her chest, covering her milky cleavage. Even though her actions said one thing, the unbridled desire burning in the depth of her eyes and the hardening of her nipples told an entirely different story. An X-rated one to be exact.

Out of nowhere a burst of possessiveness rocketed through him and shook him to the core. He cleared his throat, rattled. Where had that come from? He hadn’t anticipated how deeply the heat flaring in her eyes would affect him, on all levels. Suddenly his very well-rehearsed motto ran though his mind, but despite that, every instinct in his body warned him that a night of wild sex with Jenna would be anything but casual.

As silence stretched on, his gaze left her face, his body registering every delicious detail as he panned her curves. Chestnut curls were piled high on her head, exposing the length of her long sensuous neck. Dean dragged in a huge breath. That was where he wanted his mouth. Right where her creamy neck melted into her collarbone. Everything in him ached to touch her, to taste her, to fuck her hot little body.

His glance traveled lower and settled at the apex between her bare legs, to the thin scrap of material that barely covered her pussy. He moistened his lips. His nostrils flared. His balls tightened and his cock hardened to the point of pain. He clenched and unclenched his fingers, fighting the natural inclination to cross the room, throw her over his shoulders, and haul her upstairs. His entire body ached to lay her out buffet-style, tug aside that silky pair of panties, and press his hungry mouth over her pussy until she cried out in euphoria.

At that moment, sheer force of will was all that had kept him upright. He needed to get her somewhere private. Fast. Because all he could think about was sinking to his knees—in record time—diving into her sweet cunt and pleasuring her like he’d never pleasured another.

Oh, yeah. Now that was what he was talking about.

A
hush fell over the crowd as Jenna stood stock-still, imagining a hard-bodied Dean standing stark naked in the doorway, sinewy muscles flexed, bronzed flesh glistening with perspiration and desire…
for her.

“Damn you, Megan,” she whispered under her breath while she visualized the crowd naked. Well, not the whole crowd, just one man in particular, actually.

Moisture pooled between her thighs as her lascivious body beckoned Dean’s from across the room. Although she tried to stay focused on the task at hand, the man simply drove her to distraction. She became totally preoccupied by his blatant masculinity and how he’d managed to turn her from a businesswoman into a libidinous slut in record time.

He stood there, leaning against the doorjamb and looking like sex incarnate. Flustered, Jenna folded her arms across her chest and diligently tried to blink away the delectable image of that lethally honed body stripped naked, hers for the taking.

Shifting from one leg to the other, she bit down on her bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, wondering if he could see her aroused nipples.

With a roomful of people watching, she knew she really needed to pull herself together. But how could she possibly strut around half-naked while her cunt throbbed for the man standing across the room, looking so damn sexy he made her mouth water.

Her eyes traveled up his body and met his glance. He gave her a look that suggested he knew her every little secret, her every fantasy, and he was more than capable of fulfilling them. Her mind raced, conjuring last night’s sexual solo act, while she pictured him doing just that.

She swallowed past the lump in her throat, wanting nothing more than for Dean to take her upstairs, turn the lights out, and rid her of the unnecessary barrier of clothes separating skin from skin, while he took charge of her pleasures and indulged in every sinful fantasy she had. A burst of heat coiled through her and warmed her body from the inside out. She could feel color crawl up her neck and stain her cheeks.

A noise in the crowd brought her attention back around to the task at hand. She summoned every ounce of control she had and forced her rubbery legs to move.

With her professional demeanor somewhat back in place, she strived for normalcy and sashayed across the floor, showcasing the sexy red negligee. Unfortunately, knowing Dean was in such close proximity proved too much of a distraction.

Her legs quivered, her skin came alive, and her vision went a little fuzzy around the edges. She exhaled slowly and willed the room to stop spinning. One more piece to go and then she could get the hell out of her revealing new line and back into her business suit before she did something telltale, like throw herself at Dean and really make an ass of herself. The truth was, the man had never even given her a second glance since she arrived in Chicago. Obviously she wasn’t even his type. He probably gravitated more toward women with long, lithe figures—toward someone like Kate Saunders, the lingerie model. Undoubtedly she’d be his perfect complement.

Unable to help herself, she cast him another glance. Sensual overload set her loins on fire and gave her pause. When she tried to resume her pace, her legs failed her miserably.

Just when she thought things couldn’t get any worse, the room turned upside down. Arms flailing, Jenna shrieked and reached for something concrete to grasp on to, refusing to embarrass herself further. What she didn’t expect was for that
something
to be
someone
.

“Whoa,” Dean said, catching her before she fell to the floor, tits up. One strong arm slipped around her back and pinned her body to his. Densely packed muscles pressed against her breasts and made her nipples tingle and tighten in euphoric bliss. As she tried to right herself, her hands automatically snaked around his neck like a scarf and her fingers burned as they touched his bronzed flesh.

Cradled in his muscular arms, she shifted, until the two of them were joined hip to hip. She could hardly believe how good his rock-solid body felt wrapped around hers, how good their groins felt mashed together. Suddenly, her mind raced with indecent thoughts. Thoughts like how the only things separating her passion-drenched pussy from his cock were a measly pair of jeans and a thin pair of silky panties. She shuddered involuntarily.

He pitched his voice low, his eyes turned serious, his tone genuine. “Are you okay?”

He dipped his head, bringing his mouth to within a hairbreadth of hers. His warm, strawberry-soaked breath caressed her cheeks and aroused all her senses. With just one tiny flick of her tongue, she’d be able to taste those sensuous lips of his and finally discover if he tasted as good as he looked.

His hand connected with the small of her back, intimately. His warmth seeped under her skin, burning her body from the inside out. She felt like a wild animal in heat, and her skin broke out in moisture, as goose bumps pebbled her flesh.

Jenna knew she needed to disentangle herself before one of the other firefighters in the room grabbed an extinguisher and hosed her down like a carnal beast.

Groaning, she straightened and stepped back, removing herself from the circle of Dean’s arms. She drew a rejuvenating breath and worked to banish her lascivious thoughts.

She tried to keep her voice steady but her words spilled out like a leaky faucet. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Just lost my footing for a second. Must be my new shoes. Thanks. Thanks so much.”

Dammit, woman, stop babbling.

She stepped back and wobbled on her heels, completely overwhelmed by his intimate touch and the way it filled her with heat.

Dean made a swift move, gripped her elbow, and hauled her to him, once again joining them chest to chest, hip to hip. His nearness made her breathless and melted her brain cells. Never in her entire life had she felt such powerful sexual stirrings.

His hand slid down her back and hauled her impossibly closer. His corded muscles were bunched, and his gaze flew to her face. She glimpsed a fierce protectiveness in his dark eyes before they softened and locked on hers. “Are you sure you’re okay?” When he furrowed his brow with professional concern, her insides went all gooey, like a warm chocolate-chip cookie straight out of the oven. “Maybe I should check that ankle.” He brushed a loose strand of hair from her face, and in that instant, something deep in her soul told her that not only was Dean the kind of guy who’d take charge of a woman’s pleasure, but he’d be eager for it, too.

Reminding herself she had a captive audience watching her every move, she drew a sharp breath and locked her knees to avoid collapsing.

“I’m okay,” she whispered with effort, her hands falling to her sides. She rolled her ankle to prove her point. “Nothing broken.”

When Dean leaned forward, his hot breath caressed her neck. Heat and desire ambushed her pussy and scattered her ability to form a coherent thought.

“You sure? You look a little flushed.”

The deep timbre of his voice flustered her even more, and his raw virility did the craziest things to her libido. Since a reply was beyond her ability at the moment, she simply nodded her head in response.

He brushed his thumb over her cheek. “I have to go,” he said, his voice deep and sensuous. “I’ll be at the firehouse.”

Why was he telling her that? Damn, if only she could think straight, if only she could breathe. “Okay,” she whispered, thrilled to find her voice still functioning.

His grin appeared slowly, looked sexy; his voice was like a rough whisper. “If you have any other emergencies, Jenna, I’m your man.”

Emergencies? What other emergencies did he expect her to have? And why was he telling her this? And how could he expect her to think straight when he let her name roll off his tongue like that? Like he was tasting it, savoring it.

She opened her mouth to ask what constituted an emergency and why he thought she was clumsiness personified, but then slammed her mouth shut, answering her own unasked questions. After she’d been stumbling around like a bumbling idiot all week, it was no wonder he expected more emergencies. And with all the candles burning around the room, he probably expected her to set the house ablaze.

With a suggestive edge to his smile, he said, “You know the number.” Dean stepped back and disappeared around the corner, out of her line of vision.

Number? What number?

Before she had a chance to comprehend Dean’s parting words, Megan stepped up beside her, grabbed her hand, and squeezed. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Jenna nodded toward the floor. “It’s these damn new shoes. The heel must be loose or something.”

Megan grinned like the Cheshire cat. “The shoes, huh?” she asked, tossing her a knowing smile.

Jenna furrowed her brow, annoyed at her friend’s perceptiveness. “Yeah, the shoes,” she bit out. Without giving Megan the chance to press for more information, Jenna tugged on her hand and said hastily, “Come on. I have one more outfit to go and then I’m going to bury myself under a rock.”

“Don’t worry about it, Jenna. I think Dean has that effect on all women. Every chicky in that room wanted to be rescued by him.” As Jenna ushered her down the hallway, Megan cast a glance over her shoulder. “And all those other women in there are married.”

When they stepped into the bedroom, Jenna reached for the last piece in the line, a sexy red bustier, and wondered why she found the thoughts of Dean with another woman so disconcerting.

Damn him.

Blocking those thoughts from her mind, she turned her back to Megan, removed the negligee, and pressed the bustier to her chest. “Can you help me tie this?”

Megan stepped up behind her and tied the silky lace bindings together. Tight.

Jenna took shallow breaths and fidgeted. “Not so tight. I can hardly breathe. Can you loosen it?”

“We don’t want it to fall off.” Megan stepped back without honoring Jenna’s request, despite her labored breaths.

Jenna fanned her face. “We also don’t want me to pass out from lack of oxygen.”

Megan pulled the door open and, with a wave, urged Jenna to join her in the hall. “Come on, you look gorgeous. One strut around the room and then I’ll get you out of this.”

Unfortunately, one strut around the room became thirty minutes later. Once Jenna finished the show, and before she had time to get changed, she was bombarded with questions and orders. After covering her body with a long cotton robe, she easily slipped into professional mode and discussed business with other industry professionals.

As the crowd dwindled away, she went in search of her friends, needing desperately to get out of the constricting bustier. She found Megan, Cassie, and Sara in the kitchen, all gathered around the delicious looking fruit and veggie trays.

She crooked her finger at Megan, gesturing for her to follow. “Can you help me?”

Arms wrapped around Nick’s waist, Cassie piped in. “Great show, Jenna. We’re all going to head to the Hose for a celebration and a game of pool. As soon as you get changed, we’ll go.”

As Jenna took in the loving couple, a burst of envy whipped through her and caught her off guard. Whoa, that came out of nowhere. Especially since Jenna had never thought about love or long-term relationships before. Okay, so maybe she had thought about it a time or two, or a billion, but she’d always tamped down those thoughts and turned her attention to her career. And the truth was, the self-absorbed men in her small hometown were far from marriage material.

Marshaling her emotions, Jenna crinkled her nose. “You all go ahead. I need to do a bit of paperwork first, and then I’ll catch up with you.” Jenna turned her attention to Megan and ruffled the lapels of her robe. “Can you help me get out of this thing?”

Megan waved her hand. “Go ahead. I’ll be right there.” She popped a chocolate-dipped strawberry into her mouth and reached for another. Jenna eyed the fruit tray, her stomach grumbling from hunger, reminding her she’d skipped dinner in her quest to perfect her lingerie display. Not that she could swallow anything now, with the damn bustier still on. It’d likely get stuck in her windpipe.

As Jenna moved down the hallway, her thoughts returned to Dean, and she recalled the way her body had reacted so easily, so readily to him. It amazed her that she craved him with a fierce intensity unlike anything she’d ever felt before. Out of nowhere a shiver prowled through her and tingled all the way to her toes, reminding her she was a woman with needs.

And fantasies…

She slipped into the bedroom, secured the door behind her, and flicked on her bedside lamp. In search of a loose-fitting outfit while she awaited Megan’s rescue, she rifled through her closet, but the sound of an engine roaring to life in the driveway drew her attention. Jenna took two measured steps toward her window and peered out just in time to see her friends pile into a car and disappear down the driveway.

Eyes wide in disbelief, she banged on the glass pane. “Dammit, Megan.” How could her friends have forgotten about her, leaving her there to expire from lack of oxygen?

Jenna hastily crossed the room, grabbed her suitcase, and flung it onto her bed. The old bedsprings grated and made an ungodly sound. She tore through her supplies in search of her trusty sewing kit. If she couldn’t get the damn bustier untied, she’d cut herself out of it. After a thorough search turned up nothing, she angled her head and glanced at her nightstand, to the spot where she’d left her cell phone. When her gaze settled on a small white business card, her pulse leapt into gear and her libido roared to life.

Was that what she thought it was?

Surely it wasn’t.

She whisked the card off the table, turned it over in her hands, and read the print. She gulped air.

Oh God.

It was.

Her heart picked up tempo, while her palms moistened. As she stroked her thumb over the numbers, her body tightened and burned with desire. Her pussy clenched and throbbed in heated anticipation, urging her to call…
the Hot Line
.

A low groan crawled out of her throat, her legs widened involuntarily, and one hand slipped in between, touching the swollen spot that quaked the most, attempting to quell the hot restlessness deep inside her before she shattered into a million tiny pieces. Her hands spent a long time between her legs, working to release the long building tension.