Light Her Fire (Private Pleasures 2)

“I don’t usually get so emotional about a…a…physical release.” Not on her own, at any rate, which was how all her other orgasms had occurred. But the things Josh had done to her, the sensations he’d unleashed, had been so overwhelming. “Honestly, I’m not a crier. Haven’t cried after sex since my first…” Abort. Do not mention Roger right now. “Um…in a long time.”

He stared at her for three full heartbeats, and then gently ran his thumb across her cheek, which made her wonder what kind of catastrophe her face was, with mascara and tear tracks everywhere. “That’s okay. Who says I didn’t cry my first time, too?”

“Did you?” She didn’t quite keep the surprise out of her voice. She had a hard time picturing him anything but in total control of himself.

“No.” His smile slid back into place, and he stepped closer. “But technically, we haven’t had our first time yet. I’m willing to let you take your best shot at making me tear up.”

.

Chapter Eight

Josh went for a dive in Melody’s wide blue eyes while he waited for her answer, and then swore when his phone chimed from his back pocket. The station. He knew from the ringtone. Which meant there was an emergency, or at least something the guys on shift considered an emergency.

“I’m sorry. I have to answer that.”

She shook her head, dismissing his apology. “No. Of course you do.”

He hit answer and said, “Bradley,” into the phone, and then listened while Cooper summed up the situation—Civic versus Kenworth on the double A. Full response requested. And that was that. He caught Melody’s concerned gaze as he said, “I’m on my way.”

“Bad?” she asked when he disconnected.

“There’s a pileup on the highway. We’re first responders, and I’ve got more extrication experience than any of the guys on duty tonight. They’re on their way, and will get things started, but I need to go.”

“I understand. Be safe.”

He appreciated her grace in the face of the interruption. “When can we reschedule this? All of the sudden, I could use a good cry.”

Her smile nearly knocked him on his ass. “Tomorrow? Around six-ish?”

“Great. Bluelick?”

“What, Chief?”

He grabbed a handful of the front of her dress and reeled her in. “Let’s aim to take things inside next time.” So saying, he brought his mouth down on hers. Yes, it was the kind of kiss that brooked no objections, but she made it equally clear she had none. She held on tight and drank it in. Drank him in. Her hands raced down his back, along his sides, and back up again, as if she couldn’t stop touching him. “See you tomorrow.”

Her lips found the corner of his jaw and nibbled. He groaned as his schedule flashed across his mind. “Fuck it, I’m covering a shift tomorrow, so Rusty can go to his parents’ wedding anniversary or something. I don’t get off until late.”

“Late’s okay with me, but we can play it by ear.” She drew back and shrugged. “How about you call if you’re up for company?”

The “call me after your shift if you want to have sex” arrangement usually worked for him. Ideal, really, in his not-so-limited experience, so he couldn’t explain why the notion of being her booty call felt less like an ideal situation and more like she’d just shortchanged them both.

“No. That’s not how I want to do this.”

“Oh.” Her smile faded and she stepped back as if stung. “Sorry. My mistake. I thought you wanted to see me tomorrow.”

Well, shit. He’d botched that. “I do.” He slipped his hand around her neck and held her still as he moved back into her space. “But I’m not interested in taking any shortcuts. What I have in mind involves you putting on another of these little dresses and sitting across from me in a crowded restaurant.”

She pouted at him. “Doesn’t sound very private.”

“Not so much, no, but you’ll sit there in your dress and pearls, smiling your Miss Bluelick smile while I stare at you and think up new ways to move you to tears. Most likely someone you know will stop by to say hello—a friend, a neighbor, an old Sunday school teacher. You’ll have to make small talk, and try very hard not to blush and squirm, even though you know I’m imagining your dress on the floor and your panties around your ankles, because the only thing I’m hungry for is between your legs. When you’re so hot you can’t sit still anymore, and you’re so wet you’re worried about leaving a damp spot on your skirt, you’ll give me the look—the one you’re giving me right now—and I’ll come to your rescue. I’ll toss some bills on the table, tell your friend we have to go, and drag you out the door. And everyone in the place will know good, proper Melody Merritt is about to get good and properly fucked.”

The pulse at the base of her throat beat like a war drum. Her mouth worked for several seconds before she produced a sound. “Call me.”

He kissed her again, because he just couldn’t resist those soft lips. When he broke away, she leaned into him, chased his retreating mouth. Mission accomplished. “’Night, Bluelick.”

…

“I’m really glad you called and asked to get together, Mel, but I have to admit, I never dreamed you’d be up for this.”