“No. No. No. No.”
“Four denials?”
“I swear,” he said, breaking the contact to hold up his hands, as if they were proof.
Yeah, Lisa had always been flirty with him. She was slated to shoot the annual fireman’s calendar next month, so she was always hanging around, suggesting ideas for locations and even poses. How about if you had one hand on the ladder and Becker was unrolling the hose? Smith had simply shook his head. The calendar didn’t need to be classy, but it needed less Chippendale and more of the rough-and-ready smolder that had made it a bestseller. Hell, the latter was why the battalion had been voted the hottest in the country, and Smith was damn proud of that accomplishment because all of the calendar proceeds went to the burn center at the local hospital.
“Why are you asking about her?”
“Just wanted to know…” she said, letting her voice trail off, and the lingering silence felt like some kind of invitation. She looked up at him and her pretty brown eyes held his gaze for a beat. Then one more. She swallowed and her lips parted slightly. She didn’t take her eyes off him.
Holy shit. Did she want him as much as he wanted her? The possibility that this wasn’t one-sided felt like a bolt of adrenaline shooting through his veins. He’d always figured she’d never give him the time of day. That he wasn’t her type whatsofuckingever. But maybe, just maybe, there was a little something there for her, too. He had to seize the moment. Had to tell her. She probably could figure it out anyway, since she’d been snug against him a minute ago. He swallowed any fear, looked her straight in the eyes, and told her the flat-out truth: “There’s nothing going on with her because the only one I want to have anything going on with is you.”
She blinked several times, as if she didn’t believe him. Or maybe she was just processing what he’d said. She raised an eyebrow, challenging him. “Really?”
“Yes. Why do you think I wanted to dance with you?”
“Because you’re a dancing fool,” she said, returning to their jokes.
But he was undeterred now. “I meant what I said about you being the prettiest woman here and the only one I want to dance with,” he said, then launched into the important question of the night. “If I kissed you right now, would you smack me or kiss me back?”
She shot him a sly smirk. “Why don’t you find out?”
“I believe I will.”
He threaded his hands through her hair, resisting the desire to pull hard and crush her mouth to his, knowing he’d need to take it slow with a woman like Jamie. He might want to devour her, to kiss her hard and fiercely, but he had to rein it in. Restraint was the name of the game. He’d never be the right guy for her the way he wanted to take her. Bite her. Do bad things to her. So he’d allow himself just a kiss.
He ran the tip of his tongue across her lips. He nipped lightly, tugging her lip in a way that made her gasp.
Slow it down, he told himself.
He brushed his lips against hers, holding back as best he could. She tasted so damn good though, the faintest bit of wine still on her lips. Her lips parted, inviting him in for more, and he swirled his tongue against hers.
The next thing he knew she was backing them up against the wall. He responded by crushing his mouth to hers and twining his hands tighter into her hair. He kissed her hard, ruthlessly, wanting to consume her with deep, greedy kisses, but cursing himself for it. Jamie needed sweetness, tender kisses and touches. He forced himself to ease back, breaking the kiss. She whimpered at the lack of contact, but then he moved to her neck, layering soft kisses on her collarbone that made her sigh hungrily.
“Oh, Smith, that feels so good,” she whispered.
She felt pretty f**king good to him too, so he nibbled on her shoulder, and then she grabbed hard on his ass, bringing him close, and that did him in. He pressed his teeth into the sweet flesh of her shoulder, biting down.
He braced himself, figuring she would pull away.
Instead, she moaned softly, almost as if surprised. He pressed his lips to the bite mark, soothing away any pain.
“Sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t be,” she whispered. “Do it again.”
…
She’d never been into biting. But then, she’d never been bitten.
Something about the pleasure and sweet sharp pain drove her wild, though, and heat pooled between her legs, especially when he bit her again. There was the slightest bit of stubble on his jaw, and the bristly feeling of it against her skin ignited all her desire to be taken.
That word echoed in her lust-swamped brain.
She leaned back and stretched her neck to the side, inviting more.
Smith blazed a trail of hot kisses and sharp nibbles along her shoulders and her neck. She grabbed for his waist, pulling his body closer, so she could feel the weight of him against her, his trim stomach, his legs, and the best part of all—that fantastic hardness. She rubbed her thigh against his erection and ran her hands across the firm planes of his belly through his T-shirt. He hissed in a breath at her touch.
“Damn, woman, when you touch me like that, it makes me want to take you.”
Her eyes widened. “Really?”
He pulled back to look at her, his voice now a low rasp. “Yes.”
“How do you want to take me?” Jamie had never been talked to like this before, but it turned her on, she was learning. She’d always liked the flirty way he’d talked with her, but that was just the tip of the iceberg with him. His mouth was so much dirtier than she’d imagined, and his words made her feel alive, electric. Somewhere, in the back of her mind, she knew better. But accessing that part of her brain was becoming difficult. Rational thought crumbled when he kissed her. Reasons to walk away fell through her fingers after he’d touched her.