Never Too Hot (Hot Shots: Men of Fire 3)

He groaned, said, “Only you would ask me to do that,” and then he was kissing her again. She threaded her fingers through his to pull him through the driving rain, up the stairs. On the porch, he picked her up, carrying her through the living room, up the stairs and kicking open his bedroom door. He put her down on the floor, making sure there was a slow slide of her body against his the entire way.

He reached for the hem of her shirt and with painstaking slowness he raised the thin, wet cotton up over her stomach, then her rib cage, and finally, over her br**sts. Her pants came off next, just as slowly, and she relished every single sensation.

The roughness of the fabric against her sensitive skin.

The gentleness of his hands.

The heat from his body, which singed her in the most delicious way.

And then she was standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and panties and even though she'd been practically naked that first night, this felt different. More real, somehow. Real enough that all the insecurities that had been chasing her for thirty-three years decided to take that moment to race into the bedroom and wind themselves around her, whispering vicious things about wrinkles and cellulite.

She thought she'd outrun her past, the years of self-hatred. She was stunned to realize she'd been wrong.

She wanted to push away from him, hide herself behind a thick cover, but then he said, “God, you're beautiful,”

and the reverence in his words worked like magic to strip away her fears, the conviction in Connor's voice making Ginger believe, for the very first time in her life, that she truly was beautiful.

He swept his thumbs across the upper curve of her br**sts, where they swelled over her bra cups. “You're so soft.”

Pleasure rippling through her at his gentle touch, Ginger closed her eyes and arched her back slightly into his hands, her own hands finding his hips so that she could hold herself steady on increasingly unsteady ground. He slid one strap off and then the other. With nothing to hold up the lace, her ni**les popped over the edge, into his waiting hands.

“So perfect.”

His thumbs circled the tight buds, tightening further at his teasing caress. Her entire being was focused on two square inches of skin. She'd never felt pleasure so exquisite, never knew her br**sts could be so incredibly sensitive. Connor's erection pressed hard against her belly and she felt an answering warmth between her legs.

“For four days I've had your taste on my tongue. And I've wanted more. So much more.”

A thrill shot through her in the same moment his mouth came down over her ni**les. Cupping her br**sts, he pushed them together so that he could easily move from one to the next, laving them with long, soft strokes of his tongue.

“Connor,” she moaned as she arched herself even closer to his incredible mouth.

At the sound of his name, he took one of her ni**les between his lips and sucked it into his mouth, his teeth gently scoring the sensitive flesh. One hand still cupping her br**sts, the other moved to her backside, splaying one butt cheek and dragging her tighter against his shaft as he slipped one thigh between hers.

As he moved his attention to the other nipple, her arousal grew so intense that she couldn't help but grind herself against the hard column of his leg. He encouraged her with his arm, helping her move in perfect rhythm to his tongue and lips on her br**sts. And then, his fingers were on her belly, moving swiftly toward her wetness.

And then, sweet Lord, his fingers found her clitoris. She opened up her legs for him as she rocked against his fingers, wanting desperately for him to keep touching her, just like that, right there, where it felt so good. She was so close, just on the verge of breaking apart into a million little pieces, when he pulled his hand away and took a step backward. Away from her.

The loss of his heat, of his touch, felt like ramming straight into an iceberg.

But then, it hit her what must have happened. She reached out to him. “Did it happen again? Your hands, did they go numb?”

He looked down at his hands, clenched into fists. “No. I could feel you. Too well.” He winced. “I can't control myself around you, Ginger. I'm too rough. I'm going to hurt you. God, I don't want to hurt you.”

She could barely believe what she was hearing. Was he really apologizing for wanting to make love to her so badly that he was losing control?

“I'm tougher than I look.”

She needed to let Connor know how much she wanted this, that she was desperate for his fingers and hands and mouth on her. Fast or slow, she didn't care. All she cared about was the pleasure of touching and being touched by him.

Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra and let it fall to the floor between them. “I loved what you were doing to my br**sts,” she said in a hoarse voice before stepping back from him and stripping off her panties.

Boldly taking his hand, she placed it onto her mound, trembling as his rough fingers made contact with her heavily aroused skin, full with desire.

“I loved what you were doing right here too. Do it again, Connor. Take me higher, take me all the way over the edge.” She went on her tippy toes and whispered into his ear, “And don't worry about me. I can handle you.”

He moved her so fast from standing in the middle of the room to flat on her back on the bed that she lost her breath. A heartbeat later, his head was between her legs, his mouth replacing his hand. Crying out, she arched up into his lips as his tongue slid into her wetness, then up to her clitoris, then back down the length of her labia.

His hands held her hips steady as she forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but feel.

And then, oh God, there it was, a higher peak than she'd ever climbed before, and she was exploding beneath him, her body wracked with spasms of ecstasy. Through it all, he continued licking and sucking and plunging with his tongue, never letting up, not until he'd wrung every ounce of pleasure from her body.

Tears pricked her eyes, not just from the pleasure, but from the intense emotions that Connor's care with her body stirred up. The way he touched her, kissed her, stroked her, made her feel beautiful.

Special.

“I didn't know,” she said when she could finally speak. “I didn't know it could be like that.”

Running kisses along the insides of her thighs, then up her belly and her rib cage, he found her br**sts again with his hands and mouth.

“I need to be inside you.” His eyes held hers in the near darkness. “Now. Before I explode.”

oaned, said, “Only you would ask me to do that,” and then he was kissing her again. She threaded her fingers through his to pull him through the driving rain, up the stairs. On the porch, he picked her up, carrying her through the living room, up the stairs and kicking open his bedroom door. He put her down on the floor, making sure there was a slow slide of her body against his the entire way.

He reached for the hem of her shirt and with painstaking slowness he raised the thin, wet cotton up over her stomach, then her rib cage, and finally, over her br**sts. Her pants came off next, just as slowly, and she relished every single sensation.

The roughness of the fabric against her sensitive skin.

The gentleness of his hands.

The heat from his body, which singed her in the most delicious way.

And then she was standing in front of him in nothing but her bra and panties and even though she'd been practically naked that first night, this felt different. More real, somehow. Real enough that all the insecurities that had been chasing her for thirty-three years decided to take that moment to race into the bedroom and wind themselves around her, whispering vicious things about wrinkles and cellulite.

She thought she'd outrun her past, the years of self-hatred. She was stunned to realize she'd been wrong.

She wanted to push away from him, hide herself behind a thick cover, but then he said, “God, you're beautiful,”

and the reverence in his words worked like magic to strip away her fears, the conviction in Connor's voice making Ginger believe, for the very first time in her life, that she truly was beautiful.

He swept his thumbs across the upper curve of her br**sts, where they swelled over her bra cups. “You're so soft.”

Pleasure rippling through her at his gentle touch, Ginger closed her eyes and arched her back slightly into his hands, her own hands finding his hips so that she could hold herself steady on increasingly unsteady ground. He slid one strap off and then the other. With nothing to hold up the lace, her ni**les popped over the edge, into his waiting hands.

“So perfect.”

His thumbs circled the tight buds, tightening further at his teasing caress. Her entire being was focused on two square inches of skin. She'd never felt pleasure so exquisite, never knew her br**sts could be so incredibly sensitive. Connor's erection pressed hard against her belly and she felt an answering warmth between her legs.

“For four days I've had your taste on my tongue. And I've wanted more. So much more.”

A thrill shot through her in the same moment his mouth came down over her ni**les. Cupping her br**sts, he pushed them together so that he could easily move from one to the next, laving them with long, soft strokes of his tongue.

“Connor,” she moaned as she arched herself even closer to his incredible mouth.

At the sound of his name, he took one of her ni**les between his lips and sucked it into his mouth, his teeth gently scoring the sensitive flesh. One hand still cupping her br**sts, the other moved to her backside, splaying one butt cheek and dragging her tighter against his shaft as he slipped one thigh between hers.

As he moved his attention to the other nipple, her arousal grew so intense that she couldn't help but grind herself against the hard column of his leg. He encouraged her with his arm, helping her move in perfect rhythm to his tongue and lips on her br**sts. And then, his fingers were on her belly, moving swiftly toward her wetness.

And then, sweet Lord, his fingers found her clitoris. She opened up her legs for him as she rocked against his fingers, wanting desperately for him to keep touching her, just like that, right there, where it felt so good. She was so close, just on the verge of breaking apart into a million little pieces, when he pulled his hand away and took a step backward. Away from her.

The loss of his heat, of his touch, felt like ramming straight into an iceberg.

But then, it hit her what must have happened. She reached out to him. “Did it happen again? Your hands, did they go numb?”

He looked down at his hands, clenched into fists. “No. I could feel you. Too well.” He winced. “I can't control myself around you, Ginger. I'm too rough. I'm going to hurt you. God, I don't want to hurt you.”

She could barely believe what she was hearing. Was he really apologizing for wanting to make love to her so badly that he was losing control?

“I'm tougher than I look.”

She needed to let Connor know how much she wanted this, that she was desperate for his fingers and hands and mouth on her. Fast or slow, she didn't care. All she cared about was the pleasure of touching and being touched by him.

Reaching behind her back, she undid her bra and let it fall to the floor between them. “I loved what you were doing to my br**sts,” she said in a hoarse voice before stepping back from him and stripping off her panties.

Boldly taking his hand, she placed it onto her mound, trembling as his rough fingers made contact with her heavily aroused skin, full with desire.

“I loved what you were doing right here too. Do it again, Connor. Take me higher, take me all the way over the edge.” She went on her tippy toes and whispered into his ear, “And don't worry about me. I can handle you.”

He moved her so fast from standing in the middle of the room to flat on her back on the bed that she lost her breath. A heartbeat later, his head was between her legs, his mouth replacing his hand. Crying out, she arched up into his lips as his tongue slid into her wetness, then up to her clitoris, then back down the length of her labia.

His hands held her hips steady as she forgot how to breathe, how to think, how to do anything but feel.

And then, oh God, there it was, a higher peak than she'd ever climbed before, and she was exploding beneath him, her body wracked with spasms of ecstasy. Through it all, he continued licking and sucking and plunging with his tongue, never letting up, not until he'd wrung every ounce of pleasure from her body.

Tears pricked her eyes, not just from the pleasure, but from the intense emotions that Connor's care with her body stirred up. The way he touched her, kissed her, stroked her, made her feel beautiful.

Special.

“I didn't know,” she said when she could finally speak. “I didn't know it could be like that.”

Running kisses along the insides of her thighs, then up her belly and her rib cage, he found her br**sts again with his hands and mouth.

“I need to be inside you.” His eyes held hers in the near darkness. “Now. Before I explode.”