Ablaze

Black smoke billowed down the hallway, obscuring Nick’s view through his face shield. His peripheral vision tracked two teenagers in the Westbridge Academy’s conservative uniforms hurrying toward the exit, clutching hands and sobbing. He thought about stopping the girls to ask if they had seen anyone else left in the building, but the air of panic surrounding them indicated they wouldn’t be responsive.

Seeing they required no assistance, he and his partner moved on, Paula taking the lead. As they progressed down the hallway, the smoke thickened, settling lower to the floor. He reached for his SCBA automatically as they checked each classroom, quickly but methodically.

At the last room in the hallway, where the fire had originated, Nick and Paula stepped inside, dropping to a crouch as they moved through the room, searching for anyone remaining. His low vantage point allowed him to avoid the thickest concentration of the acrid smoke and improved his visibility.

The room appeared to be a science lab containing several long black tables with three chairs at each. All of the tables were bare of the clutter of academic paraphernalia, indicating either everyone had grabbed their belongings, or no one had been in the room when the fire started.

Under that assumption, he didn’t expect to find anyone but indicated with a hand signal to Paula that he was checking the adjoining lab, as procedure dictated. With Paula behind him, he entered the second room, and his heart stuttered when he saw someone lying facedown on the floor in the corner. Nick moved closer at a rapid pace, identifying the form of a woman when he knelt beside her.

As Paula joined him, he rolled the woman onto her back and lifted her in his arms, not taking time to check her vitals. She settled over his shoulder easily. The woman was a negligent burden on his way from the building, and he emerged into fresh air seconds later, his partner close on his heels. Paula broke off to rejoin the group of firefighters gathered round the engine.

Nick went straight to one of the ambulances, where an EMT waited to care for her. He lowered the woman onto a waiting stretcher and stripped off his SCBA then pushed back his face shield, preparing to find his chief to inform him the building was clear. Nick’s eyes fell on the face of the woman, and he caught his breath. Even the black smudges couldn’t disguise her finely honed features. With olive skin and dark brown hair, she was a striking contrast to the crisp white sheet and pillow on the gurney.

Her eyes opened as the EMT slipped an oxygen mask over her face. The rich brown color reminded Nick of pools of molten chocolate. The bewilderment in them made his heart ache. Without removing his elkskin gloves, he took her hand and squeezed gently. “Everything’s going to be fine, ma’am.”

For a long second, her gaze didn’t waver from his. Nick had the sensation she was peering into his soul. He squirmed at the thought, breaking eye contact when he caught sight of the chief. It was a struggle to release the woman’s hand, much to his surprise. Glancing down once more, he saw her eyes had closed again. The sound of her harsh coughing remained with him as he made his way to Brady, the chief. Her frightened eyes haunted him, and it took all his willpower to push away thoughts of her and return to the business at hand. Never had he experienced such a connection in such a way, and the woman’s image stayed with him as he rejoined the rest of the crew extinguishing the fire.

***

Breathing hurt. Coughing hurt even more, but Miri couldn’t stifle the urge. The oxygen provided some relief from the burning, acrid sensation in her throat and lungs but didn’t repress the reflex to clear the congestion. She was vaguely aware of the EMT hovering beside her, monitoring her vitals every few minutes, but couldn’t manage to converse yet. Her throat was too raw. Even the thought of speaking made her wince.

The approach of a firefighter, stripped of his Nomex jacket, with a white T-shirt and red Nomex pants, distracted her temporarily from her misery. Miri’s eyes widened when she recognized the black-haired, blue-eyed hunk as the man who had carried her from the building. Her stomach clenched with nerves—or the urge to vomit after a prolonged coughing fit—as he approached, a smile displaying his firm lips, set in a tanned face, to their best advantage.

He tapped the EMT on the arm. “How’s she doing, Manny?”

“Pretty well.” He pointed to the pulse oximeter attached to Miri’s finger. “Her oxygen is ninety-eight.”

“Will you be taking her to the hospital?”

Miri moved the oxygen mask. “No.” She hardly recognized the hoarse voice emerging from her throat.

He turned his attention to her. “How’re you feeling, ma’am?” “Thirsty.”

“I can take care of that.”

She watched him walk away from her, heading toward the red engine emblazoned with PHFD on the side in black letters. The loose fit of his pants hid his buttocks and legs, but the T-shirt clung to his defined arms like a lover, revealing each bulge and flex.

When he returned, water bottle in hand, Miri quickly dropped her eyes to hide the fact she had been staring. The instant attraction to her rescuer disturbed her. She wasn’t the type to have her head turned so quickly, and definitely not just by physical attributes. She tried telling herself gratitude was the only thing she felt for the man, but knew it wasn’t true.

“Here you are, Ms.—” He unscrewed the cap before handing her the bottle.

“Zorga. Miriam Zorga.” She handed the mask to Manny, nodding to acknowledge his cautionary words of sipping slowly, and took a small taste. The water was like Heaven, though tainted by the flavor of smoke lingering in her mouth. After two more small sips, she looked up at the firefighter. “Thank you for the water…and for saving my life.”

He inclined his head. “That’s my job.”

“Still, I want to repay you. May I buy you dinner Friday night?” Miri’s eyes widened at the invitation. What was she thinking? She never dated a man unless she had known him for a decent length of time, knew his character, friends, interests and flaws. She did not go out with men she had just met, no matter how sexy. She certainly wasn’t the one to issue the request. A retraction hovered on the tip of her tongue, but his reply cut it off.

“It’s not every day a beautiful woman offers me dinner. How can I say no?” His blue eyes sparkled, as if he sensed she had been about to withdraw the invitation.

She couldn’t graciously change her mind now. Miri forced a small smile. “Does Poplin Hills Country Club suit you?”

“If that’s what you want.” The idea didn’t seem to thrill him. “I’ll pick you up if you’ll give me your address.”

“No.” She winced at the panic in her tone, hoping the lingering huskiness masked it. “We’ll meet there. Seven-thirty?” She held her breath, expecting him to argue. Hoping he would, giving her an out from the evening. She wouldn’t feel at all guilty for rescinding the invitation should he prove to be forceful or controlling. To her disappointment, he simply nodded.

“I’ll see you then.” He started to turn but paused, looking down at her. “I’m Nick Martin, by the way.” Then he was gone, fading back into the chaos of the scene on the front lawn of the staid private girls’ school.

She blushed upon realizing she hadn’t even caught his name before asking him to dinner. Hormones were to blame for her spontaneous action, which alarmed her further. She hadn’t surrendered to the pull of hormones as a teenager. It’s about time you did, whispered a sly voice in her mind—the voice she was careful to always repress and tune out. This time, it refused to be ignored, whispering all sorts of erotic suggestions about how the dinner date with Nick might end. Much to her surprise, she didn’t want to ignore the voice this time.

***

Miri groaned at the sight in the mirror. Her attempt at sexy had ended up closer to disheveled. Thick hair hung around her face in a tangled mass, refusing to lie sleek, as she had envisioned. The black silk pants she hadn’t worn for years reminded her why she hadn’t worn them with the way they clung to her thighs, accentuating the cellulite she hid under skirts and looser slacks. The red shirt dipped too low, exposing what should have been generous cleavage on a different woman, but merely accented what she lacked.

Miri glanced at the clock, biting her lip. She had twenty minutes until she was supposed to meet Nick. Availing herself of valet parking would give her five extra minutes to fix the disastrous sight she currently presented. In record time, she stripped off the slacks and shirt, standing before the mirror in plain beige panties and a simple bra, grabbing her hair and pulling it back. Her hands were adept at forming the bun she wore every day, so that took little time. She secured it with pins and turned to her wardrobe, once again examining her available clothing. Everything seemed wrong, which had already led her to the two sexiest pieces she owned, and look how they had turned out.

With a sigh, she selected an A-line brown skirt and camel turtleneck sweater with subtle threads of gold woven throughout. Adding gold hoops and a pearl necklace made the outfit dressy enough for the country club, though boring. She chose to look on the bright side as she scooped up a gold clutch and hurried from her small house. Boring was sure to be a turnoff to the all-male Nick Martin, who must be accustomed to dating beautiful women. If he had no interest in her, that saved her the effort of fighting her attraction to him. The thought provided little consolation as she pushed her beige Saab four miles over the speed limit through the sparsely populated streets of Poplin Hills.

***

She arrived five minutes late, to find Nick sitting at the bar, watching for her. She nodded to the maître d’ on her way through the spacious entryway, sparing no time to admire the antique teak wood, gold accents and deep red carpeting. The surroundings were familiar to her.

As she approached, Nick eased off his barstool, drink in hand. He tugged at the tie around his neck, as if unaccustomed to such accoutrements. With a critical eye, Miri examined him, noting he was sexy in the black suit but obviously uncomfortable. Her choice of restaurants was clearly a failure.

“I’m so sorry I’m not on time,” she said in a rush when reaching him. “I’m never late…” She trailed off, deciding not to elaborate on why she was tardy.

He shrugged. “Don’t worry. The beer is cold, and this is a nice place to wait.” His expression betrayed the small white lie. Miri bit back a gasp at the electricity flaring between them when he took her hand. “All that matters is you showed up.”

She cleared her throat, resisting the urge to tug her hand from his. The contact discomfited her. Not because he was a stranger, but because she liked it too much. “Are you ready for dinner?”

He nodded as the maître d’ appeared at their side, as if psychically summoned. Nick didn’t release her hand while they followed the man to a round table draped with a red tablecloth. Gold candleholders shone in the muted illumination from the crystal chandelier above the table. The flames from the red candles provided a cozy glow to accentuate the overhead lighting.

She breathed a sigh of relief when he had to let go of her hand as she prepared to sit at the table. The lightheadedness his touch had inspired almost faded, though she still felt giddy. Inner alarms screamed warnings about his effect on her, but Miri tried to ignore them as Nick pulled out her chair and seated her. Once again, his touch made her breathless.

Awkward silence fell between them as the maître d’ departed after promising their server’s attention shortly. She stared across the table, struggling not to stare into his sinfully blue eyes while trying to avoid the appearance of rudeness by ducking his gaze. She couldn’t strike a balance and ended up looking away.

“Do you come here often?” His mood was difficult to discern. He didn’t seem nervous, merely out of his element. Nick’s voice didn’t betray anything other than mild curiosity.

She nodded. “I have a lifetime membership.” Miri didn’t share the complete history of how it came to her. Her mother’s numerous sordid marriages weren’t a topic for first-date discussion. “It was a gift from my stepfather. He owned Poplin Hills Country Club a few years ago.” Stepfather number four, to be precise, and the only one she had ever loved as a father.

His brow furrowed. “Richard Grazier was your stepfather?”

She nodded, struggling to maintain an indifferent façade as she studied him subtly, searching for a hint of avarice. More than once, she had disappointed a suitor who thought her stepfather had left her a large inheritance. His death had been several years after the divorce, and Miri had refused to accept anything from him other than companionship at that point. His other children and current wife had been relieved.

“It was hard on the town when Mr. Grazier passed. Everyone loved him.”

Her heart softened at his sympathetic tone, and she struggled to make an intelligent response while hiding the tears in her voice. Thankfully, the arrival of the waiter prevented a reply, allowing her a minute to compose herself as Nick ordered a steak. Her order of grilled tilapia came automatically, and the server moved away.

The sommelier arrived within seconds, handing the wine menu to Nick. “What will you have this evening, sir?”

Miri almost grinned at his deer-in-the-headlight look. It was clear he wasn’t a wine aficionado. Smothering her mirth, she said, “I don’t believe we’ll need a bottle tonight, Jules. Would you please bring me a glass of Sauvignon blanc?”

Jules turned to Nick. “For you, sir?”

“Beer’s fine.” Nick seemed unbothered by the wrinkling of the sommelier’s brow as he left the table.

Again, the conversation lapsed. Miri asked a few meaningless questions, as did he, while accomplishing nothing but killing time. Out of desperation, she asked about his family. That was a topic she rarely broached with a stranger, for fear of having to give reciprocal information, but something needed to move along their exchange.

His posture relaxed, and he began telling her about his large family, all currently living in Boston.

As Nick spoke of his relations, Miri tried not to let envy plague her. As she laughed along with him at his shared remembrances, she couldn’t help contrasting his childhood to hers. Nick’s had been full of family and love, while hers was one long stretch of loneliness, with no siblings to share the trauma of uncles and stepfathers constantly coming and going, and a mother who was more concerned about her sex life than her daughter’s welfare.

As their meal arrived, she asked, “Why are you in Oregon if your family is in Boston?”

“I wanted to see something besides Boston. I ended up here after traveling a few years.” He shook his head. “It’s funny. I thought I wanted to break away from the family traditions, but I ended up a firefighter just like my brothers and father, in spite of myself. It just took me a few years longer.”

Her eyes widened. “Everyone in your family is a firefighter?”

“Just about.” Pride shone in his eyes. Before she could ask anything else, his expression dimmed. “My oldest brother isn’t a firefighter now. He married a woman who hated the whole idea, so he gave it up.” It was clear what Nick would do in a similar situation. Miri would hate to be the woman who might ask him to give up his career.

As they ate, they managed to fill the meal with stilted, meaningless conversation. By dessert, Miri had marked up the date as a disaster and was admonishing herself about rash behavior when the bill arrived.

After settling the check, Miri rose to her feet, not waiting for Nick to pull out her chair. He rose just after her, putting his hand on her lower back as they left the restaurant. She searched for a painless way to close the evening, while getting across the point that she didn’t want a repeat. It probably wasn’t a concern. What man would want a second date with her after this calamity?

Outside, she handed a slip to the valet, noticing Nick didn’t. They stood in silence as the young woman brought forth her Saab. At the curb, Miri turned to him, extending her hand. “Thank you for allowing me to repay you for saving me, Nick.”

His lips twitched, as if repressing laughter. “My pleasure, Miri.” He took her hand, caressing the palm with small circles of his thumb.

With a decisive nod, she pulled her hand from his and slid inside through the opened car door. Miri looked up at him, trying not to let her eagerness to escape show. “Well…good night.”

He nodded but made no effort to walk toward his own car, wherever it might be. She waited for him to speak or move, so she could close the door and drive away, but he just stood there. “Good night,” she said again, allowing a hint of exasperation to show.

“I’ll follow you home to make sure you get there safely.” “There’s no need—”

He tapped on her windshield, already setting off in the direction of the self-parking area. “I’ll catch up with you,” he called over his shoulder.

She gritted her teeth and resisted the urge to run over him as he stepped in front of her car. No, she didn’t want to dent the pristine grill, and blood would never come out of the beige paint.

As he jogged away, she slammed the door and shifted into drive, hitting the accelerator with a vengeance. All the way to her quiet home, she seethed with anger at his high-handedness. If he was pulling this stunt to get her to invite him in, he was in for a disappointment. Yes, he was too sexy for words, but she didn’t like his attitude. He was too blunt for her tastes. She had cultivated a sophisticated life, courtesy of the time she had spent as Richard’s stepdaughter. Nick would never fit into her existence. She couldn’t even imagine him in her immaculate brick home, decorated in neutral colors with pastel accents.

She squirmed as an unwanted mental image came to her, of Nick sprawled across her periwinkle Egyptian-cotton sheets, with his hair tousled, his chest gleaming with sweat and the flush of passion still in his cheeks. Okay, there was one place he would complement her décor, but she refused to let her self-control slip enough to allow him into her home, much less the bedroom.

By the time Miri parked in her garage, Nick’s red Dodge Ram had caught up with her. He stopped at her curb, bounding out without invitation, to meet her at the door leading into the kitchen.

She pasted on a cool smile, valiantly ignoring the pool of heat that formed in her stomach when he touched her arm. “Thank you for the escort. It was unnecessary but appreciated.”

He chuckled. “You don’t lie well, Miri.”

A blush swept through her cheeks. “Pardon?”

“You don’t appreciate my chivalry. You’re too busy trying to figure out what my angle is.” He lifted an arm, resting his palm on the door behind her and bringing himself much closer.

Her spine stiffened. “You’re mistaken, Mr. Martin. If you’ll excuse me, I’m tired.”

“Liar.” His breath brushed her cheek. “You’re thrumming with need. How long has it been since a man touched you here…” He brushed a hand across her hip. “Or here…”

His hand moved higher to cup her stomach before inching up to just below her breast. “Or here?”

Breathlessness made it difficult to speak. “I…I’ll scream…”

“No, you won’t, because you want this. You wanted it from the moment you saw me.” Nick leaned closer still, his lips brushing against her cheek. “Want to know how I know?”

She thought she shook her head but couldn’t be certain. Every nerve in her body responded to his touch, and her brain couldn’t seem to coordinate movements.

“It was the same for me.” His voice lowered an octave. “From the moment I looked into your eyes, it was like a fist in the gut. I’ve thought about you all week.”

Miri summoned a reserve of mental clarity. “I haven’t thought about you at all. I want you to go now, or I’ll have to call the police.”

He ignored her, leaning closer still, almost touching her lips with his. “You want me. Why fight it?”

“How can I want you after that disaster of a date? We have nothing in common.” She chewed her lower lip, finding it difficult to concentrate with his proximity. “We could never have anything besides a physical connection.”

“We have sex in common. Why does it have to be more complicated than that?” He kissed her then, just for a second, but it was long enough to melt her insides. “I don’t want a relationship. I saw what love did to my brother. That’s the last thing I want.”

Finally, they had something other than the physical in common. “I don’t want to fall in love either.” After seeing the way her mother moved from lover to lover so casually, Miri had decided at a young age she would rather be alone than have a string of affairs. She had maintained her resolve to avoid relationships, never meeting a man worth compromising for.

But it had been so long since a man had held her. Her last lover had been a memory for three years now, cast aside because he wanted a deeper emotional commitment than she would give.

“Great. We know what we want from this. What’s the harm?”

She shivered at his breath against her lips. “I don’t have one-night stands.”

“How about two nights…or a week?” His husky laugh danced along her nerve endings, exciting them to a fever pitch. “Take it one day at a time, and we’ll move on when we’re no longer hot for each other.”

She stared into his eyes, swimming in the molten desire reflected there. Her brain said no, but her body softened against his, and Miri licked her lips. She cursed her weakness, even as she put a hand on his chest. “Do you want to come in?”

***

He swallowed up the space inside her home. Feng shui had failed in this instance. “You really like beige, don’t you?”

Her neutral color scheme suddenly seemed boring next to Nick, and she had to resist the urge to hide the pastel pillows spread over the beige sofa. She owed him no excuses for her tasteful home, she reminded herself. “It’s elegant.”

Nick shrugged, dismissing the topic. “Coffee?”

She exhaled a breath she hadn’t been aware of holding. It had been so long since a man had violated her sanctuary that she had forgotten how the process worked. Had she expected him to leap on her, take her on the floor and leave? Miri shook her head at the thought, squashing the ripple in the back of her mind that liked the scenario. “Of course. I have Seattle Sunrise or Mocha Mulberry.”

His brow quirked. “Never mind. I’m strictly black, plain.” “Your loss. May I offer you an iced tea?”

Nick scanned her apartment. “Do you have beer?” She shook her head. “I rarely drink at home.” “Tea is fine.”

She turned to the kitchen, leaving Nick to settle on the sofa. As she peered through the opened top of the Dutch door, she saw him tossing her cushions haphazardly in the corner. Miri gritted her teeth to avoid saying something. She wasn’t fitting the man into her life. Simply her bed.

Her hands shook at the thought, and she slopped a bit of tea from the pitcher onto the floor when removing it from the fridge. With a smothered curse, she ripped a paper towel from the roll on the counter and cleaned up the spot.

The dispenser on the refrigerator hummed, but no ice dropped into the glass when she pressed it against the sensor pad. Frowning, she bent at the waist to examine the dispenser just as the ice burst free, exploding from the chute into the glass, on the floor and at Miri.

She slammed the glass onto the counter with more force than necessary and bent to pick up the cubes. How many more signs did she need to know this was a bad idea? What had she been thinking, agreeing to a fling with Nick Martin, a man she had known less than a week? She couldn’t allow libido to overrule common sense. Once he had his tea, she would explain she had changed her mind and send him away.

With that decision made, Miri’s hands steadied, and she was able to get another glass, fill it with ice and put it on the counter. Not a drop of tea spilled from the pitcher as she filled the glasses, and she grasped them firmly before returning to the living room.

Nick hadn’t waited for an invitation to make himself comfortable. He’d kicked off his shoes, removed his jacket and tie and rolled up the sleeves of his light-blue shirt. His sock-covered feet screamed at her from their perch on her antique coffee table. She stared at them when putting his glass of tea on a coordinating coaster.

“Thanks.” He patted the cushion beside him. “Sit with me.”

She eyed the recliner and sat beside him with a soft sigh. Had he read her intentions to maintain distance between them?

Nick took the glass, gulping the tea in three long swallows. Miri watched his throat move, mesmerized by the cords flexing. Her mouth watered as she imagined trailing her tongue across his flesh.

To distract herself, she took a sip of tea and choked on it. Nick came to the rescue by patting her back, managing to knock the rest of the tea down the front of her sweater. She gasped as liquid soaked her front and then gasped again when Nick’s bare hands brushed down her breasts in an effort to remove the ice cubes. She surrendered the glass to him, unable to speak for a moment.

“Come on. You need to get out of that. It’s soaking wet.” He took her hand, and Miri stood when he did, following him down the hall. “Which room?”

She opened her mouth to tell him he had done enough, that he should leave now, but a small, “The door at the end of the hall,” issued from her. What? Why was she so timid, going along with this? She wasn’t that horny, was she?

Her nipples hardened at that moment as heat pooled between her thighs when she ran into Nick’s back. Her body reeled from the contact, forcing her mind to admit maybe she was that turned on. She wanted him more than any man who had ever been invited into her bedroom. Why was she fighting it?

He pushed open the door and stepped in ahead of her, whistling through his teeth. “Nice.” His eyes were on the blonde sleigh bed, complete with a beige velvet comforter that invited stroking. “I may never leave, darlin’.”

“Tonight only. We agreed.”

Nick turned to her, wearing a wolfish grin. “Actually, we agreed for however long it lasts.”

Had she agreed to that just by inviting him in? Miri lifted a shoulder, dismissing the disagreement. He might or might not agree, but they were on a night-by-night basis, with no guarantees.

“Let me help you with that. I’ll bet that virgin wool is scratchy when wet.”

Miri stepped away from him, hoping her cool expression hid the heat spiraling through her as her mind conjured up an entirely different use for virgin wool on wet places. “I can handle it.”

“I know, but it’s more fun if I do it.” Nick cocked his head, winking. “C’mon.”

She stood still, holding her arms loosely at her sides. The first feather-soft touch of his fingers at the waistband of her skirt made her stomach quiver. She sucked in a breath as he pulled the sweater slowly from the skirt, an inch at a time, until her waist was bared. He moved the sweater higher, revealing her stomach, which quaked continuously as his fingers stroked exposed areas.

“Your skin is so soft. Like silk. I can’t wait to taste it.” Nick spoke with an arrogant certainty that he would taste whatever he liked. She didn’t contradict him, not wanting to. Now that she had given in to this insanity, she intended to enjoy it fully. What good were morning-after regrets without a helluva night before?

He pulled the sweater over her head, and Miri trembled at the hunger in his gaze. It made her feel vulnerable and desirable all at once. Had any man ever inspired such feelings before? Maybe her previous interludes had been so tepid because she knew all about the men selected to be lovers. There was mystery with Nick, heightening her anticipation. She didn’t know what he would do next.

His lips twitched. “A beige bra too, Miri?” She shrugged. “I like beige.”

His fingers unfastened the back clasp with confidence, letting the cups lower to just above her nipples. “You need some color in your life, darlin’.”

She shook her head but offered no further protest, too entranced by the way his fingers danced across the silk cups, easing them away from her small breasts with a finesse never equaled by any preceding him. Miri hardly noticed the bra as it dropped to the floor but didn’t miss his fingers caressing her nipples. They hardened again, straining to meet his fingers, begging for attention. A mingled gasp-groan escaped her when he lightly pinched one. “Nick?”

He met her eyes. “Yes?” “Kiss me.”

She had barely uttered the second word when his arms were around her and her body melted against his. Miri tilted her neck to meet his descending head, and their lips touched. She was almost surprised sparks didn’t flare when their flesh met. His lips were firm and demanding but also giving. She molded hers to his, sighing at the electricity humming between them. How could a kiss be so earth shattering?

It only got better when he parted her lips with his and slid inside, playfully pushing his tongue against hers before slipping over the surface. Miri caught his tongue with hers, pinning it briefly before he broke away.

The kiss changed, getting deeper and more passionate. Nick’s hands ventured from her back to her buttocks, cupping and squeezing them as he fitted her pelvis against his. His cock pressed insistently against her pussy, making her dizzy with need.

Nick’s mouth moved from hers and took a leisurely trip across her cheek to her ear. Miri gasped when he twirled his tongue around the tiny hoop in her lobe, darting through the jewelry to lick a sensitive spot. She put her arms around his waist, pressing him closer. He breathed a short laugh into her ear before sucking the lobe and earring into his mouth to bite gently.

When he lifted his head, Miri surged forward, determined to see if his neck was as tempting as she had imagined. Nick jerked at the first stroke of her tongue down the column of his throat then groaned when she sucked skin between her teeth to nibble.

“Why do you scrape back your hair? I bet it’s gorgeous.”

She would have answered it was practical for work, but her mouth was too busy devouring his skin. He tasted sweet, with a hint of salt, and the woodsy fragrance of his cologne contributed to his allure. She didn’t hesitate in her appointed task as he unwound her hair from the bun, letting the dark brown locks fall to the middle of her back.

“God, Miri, I could lose myself in here.” Nick brought a handful to his face, rubbing the strands against his cheeks. “I can’t wait to see you on the bed, with your hair spread out on the pillow.”

“Umm.” Miri kept kissing his neck while her fingers undid the buttons of his shirt to the waistband of his pants. After parting the lapels, she let her mouth venture lower, licking a path across his chest, keeping a hand there to touch the lightly furred skin, running her fingers through his chest hair as her tongue swept over his nipple, eliciting a moan. His hand tightened on her hair, dragging her closer, and Miri surrendered to instinct.

She swirled her tongue around his nipple in small circles, gradually increasing the radius while still stroking his chest with her hand. Her other hand hooked into his waistband and one finger was bold enough to slip inside to caress his waist.

She cried out with surprise when Nick swung her into his arms to carry her to the bed. He didn’t bother to push back the velvet comforter to reveal the nine-hundred-count cotton sheets underneath. The velvet cradled her back as Nick’s body hovered over her front. Her breasts fit perfectly against his chest as he aligned his body over hers. She wriggled, teasing her nipples with the hair on his torso. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He cupped the back of her head, bending her neck to take control of her mouth. “You too,” he said, before touching his lips to hers. The kiss was slow, with each stroke of his tongue branding her as his. She was aware of the possessiveness in his actions and reveled in it but refused to focus on the implications of giving him more power in the liaison than she should.

He eased away from her long enough to strip off his shirt, remove his belt and unfasten his pants, leaving the zipper and button of his trousers open. Miri lifted her hips as he fumbled for the zipper at the back of the skirt, easing the passage of the garment.

Nick touched her thighs, stroking the bare flesh. “I didn’t figure you for a garter belt girl.”

She squirmed as he ran a thumb over the beige garter belt before rubbing the silky hose on her thigh. Should she ruin the illusion and tell him she had resorted to an old-fashioned garter belt and thigh-highs because her last pair of pantyhose had ripped? No. “I need a surprise or two. Keeps things interesting.”

“That it does.” His hand moved higher, past the garter belt and bare skin, to her panties. They were beige too, but he made no comment.

Miri arched her hips when he ran his thumb down her slit, exciting every nerve centered there. Moisture accompanied the motion, and the panties seemed to chafe unbearably against her pussy.

Nick grew bolder, penetrating the elastic side of the panty to caress her pussy. “You’re so wet.”

“I want you.” She was going to go insane if he didn’t move along soon. She groaned as his thumb slipped inside her, probing her entrance. “Please.”

“Not yet.”

She gnashed her teeth when he pulled away again, this time to remove her panties. She reached for the clip on one of the garters, but his hand stayed hers. “I’ll take care of it.” Nick dispensed with the garter belt and panties quickly, leaving only the thigh-highs.

Miri lay there watching him, wondering what he planned next. Should she take the initiative? She wasn’t shy, but there was something so manly about Nick that it precluded her feeling confident enough to demand what she wanted. He might have a dominant personality, but more importantly, he made her want to submit to his whims.

She reached out, running her hand up and down his bicep. “What do you want me to do?”

“Nothing. I just want to look at you.” Nick nudged her thighs wider so he could kneel between them. His gaze never wavered from her pussy as he parted it with one hand. The cool air on heated flesh induced a shiver in Miri, and she held her breath, wondering if she would feel his tongue on her.

Instead, a finger from his other hand circled her clit slowly as he bent forward. His tongue rasped wetly across one of her swollen nipples, teasing her unbearably. He sucked the bud deeper into his mouth as his fingers mimicked the movement to plunge deep into her pussy. Miri arched her hips, straining for more of his hand.

Nick complied with her unspoken request by thrusting his fingers in and out of her while circling her clit with firm strokes. His tongue laved her nipple, and she squirmed under the passionate onslaught. She was so hungry for him, just aching everywhere. It no longer seemed foolish to rush into a fling. Now, she couldn’t get there fast enough. “Please, Nick. I need you.”

He lifted his head from her breast but took his time withdrawing from her pussy, stroking her for another minute before relenting. She was slick with need when he stood up to remove his pants. The sight of his thick cock flooded her pussy with moisture. Miri imagined stroking him, tracing her fingers down the throbbing veins of his shaft and caressing the mushroom head as it spasmed against her hand. She watched impatiently as he pulled a condom from his pocket to sheath his cock before returning to her.

Nick took up the same position between her thighs, stretching out atop her. He didn’t allow his full weight to rest on her as his hand parted her pussy to guide his cock inside her. Miri cupped his buttocks, pulling his cock in as deeply as she could. Her body accepted the length of him with surprising ease considering how long it had been since she had taken a lover.

She arched her hips, meeting his first thrust. The pace was slow, inciting a surge of desire that built in ever-increasing pulses. Miri’s nails formed half-moons in the flesh of his buttocks as he thrust in and out of her, met eagerly each time by her. Nick’s hand slipped between their bodies, his thumb seeking out and stroking her clit in time with his thrusts.

His cock was deep inside her, seeking to learn every inch of her pussy while his fingers memorized her clit. Miri cried out when Nick buried his mouth against her neck to bite her with more vigor than tenderness. His roughness excited her, much to her surprise. She was used to polite lovemaking, not the uninhibited variety that Nick seemed so adroit at.

She closed her eyes, struggling to contain a cry of pleasure as her pussy contracted around him. Convulsions swept through her, emanating from deep in her womb and squeezing his cock to milk every last drop of satisfaction from him. The world looked fuzzy when viewed through the haze of passion obscuring her vision, and her breathing was heavy. It was difficult to draw in a deep breath as she hovered on the edge of coming, just before plunging forward. A cry escaped her as her body went rigid with release.

Spasms shook her, making her pussy contract even tighter around his cock, which spasmed in time with the tremors racking her body. Miri tried to drag him inside her by digging her nails even deeper into the skin of his buttocks as afterglow started the process of making her muscles relax.

He stiffened against her, thrusting frantically a couple of times before staying deep inside her. Nick seemed to make no effort to conceal his husky groan of fulfillment as he let loose his satisfaction. His cock released in spurts that filled her with contentment, renewing milder spasms inside her core. Their bodies shook in time with each other for what might have been seconds or hours, uniting them as one for that short time.

When it was over, he didn’t withdraw from her. Nick turned on his side, bringing Miri with him, and tucking her body close to his. He brushed a kiss across her forehead, murmured, “Thank you,” and held her.

How did she respond? She wanted to weep with the pleasure he had given her. Never had it been so good. What about Nick completely fulfilled her when no other man had?

As he slipped into sleep, emitting soft snores, Miri cautioned herself to be careful. Nick was dangerous to her ordered life and sheltered heart. If he could breach her body so easily, what could he do to her carefully controlled emotions?