“Hard. And fast. And up against the wall.”
She’d never done it up against the wall. Sex was meant for bedrooms, by candlelight, with soft, sexy music playing. But her body seemed to think otherwise because desire unspooled in her—and so did her own patent curiosity to be with him. She’d figured one dance would get him out of her system, but that was child’s play. To eradicate this man from her head, maybe she needed to do the deed once and for all. A one-night-only performance, and then she’d never have to think about him again. Yes, she reasoned—as much as she was capable of reasoning given the swirls of lust clouding her mind—one time with Smith and then she could wipe her hands of this desire that had lodged a permanent home inside her. She hoped this wouldn’t complicate their friendship, but a one-night stand was safe, she reasoned. They could give in to the lust this time, and still be friends tomorrow, right?
Of course.
Besides, she liked the idea of being taken. Liked it a heck of a lot, judging from the way the hairs on her arms stood on end and her skin sizzled. “Storage room. Now,” she said, in between pants.
She led him to the small room a few feet away. Once inside, she kicked the door closed, dimmed the light, and went for another kiss before she could think twice. Thinking was out of the question now. She’d made her decision—she was going for it. Taking a one-way ride on the Smith train and then she’d get off it for good.
She zoomed in on his abs again, running her hands across his stomach. My god, he was pure male perfection. He felt even better than he looked in the calendar—and he looked damn spectacular in those pages. She needed nothing more on this earth right now than to map his strong body with her hands. She yanked off his shirt so she could have free rein.
“Jamie,” he warned as his shirt fell to the ground.
“What?”
“Are you sure?”
“Am I sure of what?”
“If you take off anything else, I am going to be f**king you. Got that? This is your warning.”
She blushed at his crudeness. But it turned her on even more. She had no idea why, especially since she didn’t use those words herself, so she didn’t know what to make of her reaction, but she was aching for him. She trailed her eager hands across his pecs, so solid, so strong. “What if I don’t want to listen to that warning?”
“Then I am going to need to find out if you’re as wet as I think you are right now.”
Jamie was used to Smith the sweet talker. Smith the flirt. Smith the upstanding fireman who saved people when they needed to be saved. But Smith the dirty talker? Who knew that would ignite her? She’d always wanted romance, sweet nothings, poetry—pretty words to make her swoon.
This was beyond swooning.
She was a live wire, and her veins were flooded with heat.
“I want you to find out how turned on I am,” she whispered, fingering the hem of her skirt, half-shocked that she was inviting him in like this.
He arched an eyebrow, and perhaps he was surprised too that she was going along with everything.
“You better be,” he said roughly, grabbing her wrists, and pinning them over her head, as he backed her up against the shelves. The wood edge pressed into her spine, and it should have hurt, but instead it was yet another sensation that reminded her of how hot he was for her, and vice versa. “Because if I take off your panties and you’re not f**king soaked through, I am going to have to hold you down hard.”
Her eyes widened in surprise with his words. She raised an eyebrow, feeling daring and risqué in a way she never had before. “Is that a threat or a promise?”
He grabbed a hand, lowered it, and pressed it against him. She moaned at the feel of his steely length through his jeans. “You think I’m joking?”
She shook her head, grinning like a lust-struck fool. “I want to touch you.”
Who was this woman saying these things? But they were coming out of her mouth, matching his dirty words as best she could, as he rubbed her palm over his erection.
He shook his head as if he were tsking her. “You will, but first things first. Before I let you touch my cock, I need to know how much you want me. I need to feel how”—he leaned in, his mouth buzzing its way to her ear—“slick you are between your legs. I want your panties to be so damn soaked you can’t put them back on afterward.”
She was on fire, lit up all through her blood and bones and breath. Every cell in her body was comprised solely of desire and reckless need.
“Please touch me,” she whispered, and he dropped her other wrist.
With strong hands, he gripped her hips and lifted her onto the shelf, shoving paper towels and washcloths to the floor in one quick sweep of a hand. He was commanding. He was determined. He was a man who knew what he wanted—and he wanted her. She might regret this in the morning. Hell, she might regret it in an hour, but right now there were no regrets.
She wanted him. She wanted him hard and wild. Like she’d never had it before. One time, one night.
“I’m going to make you come in my hands, and then I am going to take you.”
Chapter Three
Jamie’s panties alone—red lace with a white flower in the middle—were a turn-on. But the feel of them. They were so hot and wet that Smith had no choice but to rip them off. She spread her legs wide, and he felt her against his fingers and cursed. “Fuck, you’re hot, woman.”
“You made me this way,” she said, her head falling back as she gave in, rolling her hips against his hand.