Light Her Fire (Private Pleasures 2)

Josh put the bag he’d carried upstairs on the counter and glanced at her. She read his silent message loud and clear. He hadn’t expected Rusty to be so…attentive. She smiled back and shrugged.

Rusty lumbered in with the remaining groceries and dropped them on the counter. “You’ve come at a perfect time. Thanks to the city council, we’ve got a bunch of new gear to go with our new chief.”

“I feel safer already.”

Rusty made a face. “Yeah, that’s kind of the idea. It’s more for appearances than anything. Mayor Buchanan’s trying hard to convince some fancy bourbon maker to set up their main distillery here in Bluelick. They like our small-town land prices, and the credibility of a Kentucky address, but they”—he made air quotes—“expressed concern about our infrastructure and whether we had the services to help them protect their investment. Instead of pointing out our track record, Buchanan stumbles all over himself getting the council to approve a lot of unnecessary”—his eyes cut to Josh—“improvements. No offense, Chief.”

Josh merely looked at his watch. “Don’t you and Cooper have a standing date with Pat and Vanna about now?”

Rusty’s expression suggested he was getting the hint, and he didn’t much like the message. He’d always had a protective streak, and apparently he’d decided a woman rebounding from a long engagement needed protection from big bad Chief Bradley. In response to Josh’s not-so-subtle prompt to go join the other firefighter on shift, he just shook his head and laughed. “Not when we have a guest. C’mon, Mel.” He took her hand and tugged her toward the stairs. “We’ll check out the trucks first. I’d let you slide down our pole, but you’re in a skirt, so…”

Yeah. It was painfully obvious she wouldn’t be sliding down anyone’s pole anytime soon. She followed him downstairs to the garage, and spent the next half hour oohing and ahhing over two shiny red trucks and a bunch of gear, while Rusty did his best impression of a junior-high dance chaperone, constantly angling to position himself between her and Josh.

When he suggested they go upstairs and take a look around the living quarters, she spoke up. “Why don’t we save that for another time? It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you from your dinner.”

“Good plan,” Josh said. “I’m off duty. I’ll walk you out.”

“I’ll walk you out, too,” Rusty added, and shouldered his way between them.

“I’ve got it covered,” Josh said at the same time she insisted, “I know my way.”

“Say hey to your folks for me,” Rusty called, a bit pointedly, as Josh put a hand to the small of her back and steered her toward the door.

“Will do,” she called back, and waved, until Josh unceremoniously shut the door, leaving them suddenly alone on the firehouse stoop.

“Holy shit, what a nightmare. There’s only two guys on shift. I thought they’d be so absorbed with dinner and Wheel of Fortune they’d ignore us and we could use my office to—”

“I don’t suppose…” Oh boy, was she really going to suggest this?

“You don’t suppose?” His lips curved into a smile and he toyed with the top button of her blouse.

She remembered the feel of those long, capable fingers between her legs, and licked her suddenly dry lips. Apparently yes, she was really going to suggest this. “I don’t suppose you’d like to take a tour of my workplace? It’s not far.”

“How far?” he asked, his voice carrying a note of desperation that sent her system into overdrive.

“Just across the square.” She gestured in the vague direction of the medical offices of Dr. Ellie Swann, Bluelick’s newest, and only, general practitioner.

He stepped closer. “I’m guessing all the patients are gone this time of night?”

“Yes,” she breathed, wondering exactly when her lungs had sprung a leak. “It should be completely deserted.”

His slow grin weakened her knees. “Sounds like the perfect time for a fire inspection.”

Chapter Three

Josh stood behind Melody, waiting not-so-patiently while she dug her keys out of her purse. Both of them were slightly winded from their mad dash across the town square, and the sound of her quick breaths had his brain fast-forwarding to the moment he’d be inside her, thrusting for all he was worth, and she’d have her head thrown back, panting like that just for him. The image sent another powerful surge of lust through him, and he gave in to the compulsion to touch her. He ran his hand along her back, starting with the nape of her neck and trailing down, down, all the way down, until her keys clattered on the polished oak floors.

“Uh-oh, butterfingers. Better pick those up.”

Her laugh licked along his nerve endings like a playful tongue. “If you were any kind of gentleman, you’d pick them up for me.”

He smacked her very tempting ass. “I’m no gentleman.”

She gasped, then turned, met his eyes, and gave him a look that grabbed him by the balls and wouldn’t let go even after she turned away. “That’s handy, because tonight, I’m no lady.”

Small-town grapevines obviously couldn’t be trusted. Prim, proper Miss Bluelick had a wild streak, judging by… Christ, she was limber. The thought blew everything else out of his head as he watched her bend forward from the waist, effectively pushing her mouthwatering curves into his groin, and reach for the fallen keys.

“I can see that.” He sank his fingers into her hips. “You’re a very bad girl.”