Page 10 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Firefighter

I bite down on my bottom lip, wondering if this is totally stupid. What if I tell him to give me the Big O and he runs away mortified that I dared suggest such a thing?There’s a giant dick pressed against your back, silly woman.

“Touch me?”

“Touch youwhere?” his words are a low, heated growl that makes my belly quiver with want.

“One hand under my shirt,” I say, testing the waters.

He slides one hand beneath the hem of my shirt, placing it in the center of my torso.

“Slide it up,” I say, catching a blur of orange fur leap from the bed just as Dean does as directed. His fingers graze the bottom of my breast. “I want your hand full of my tit.”

“Fuck,” he grunts, grabbing my breast and kneading it.

I whimper at the touch I’ve craved for an embarrassingly long time. Even when I was dating other guys or Dean had a girlfriend, it was always his touch I wanted more than anything.I’m still not convinced this is reality, but if I’m dreaming, I’ll throat punch the person stupid enough to wake me up.

“Put your other hand inside my panties,” I say on a moan.

He’s slow about it, dipping his fingers beneath the hem with agonizing leisure. I arch my hips into his touch, desperate to feel the pressure of his touch.

“Touch my pussy,” I pant.

“Gladly.” His fingers slide into my wet valley, that delicious friction nearly undoing me in the first two seconds.

“Do I make you this wet, sweetheart?” he whispers against my ear.

“I think that answer’s obvious. But if you want to know for sure, then put a finger inside me and find out.”

His middle finger plunges into my wet channel, his palm grinding against my clit.

“Kiss me,” I plead.

The combination of his mouth on mine, one hand squeezing my breast, and the other gyrating against my mound is almost too much to take. But when Dean slides a second finger into my channel, I’m done for. I reach behind me, gripping his cock tight as I come apart.

“Fuck, Heather,” he groans, quickening the pace of his hand between my legs.

I see stars behind my eyes as my hips arch off the bed. He swallows my cries with his greedy mouth. Warm liquid coats my hand as he groans. A wicked part of me is so fucking pleased I made him come with me. If I had any doubts that he thought the kiss was a mistake, they’ve now been eradicated.

6

DEAN

Sunlight cuts through the blinds,alerting me that another day has dawned. I don’t know how long I slept after we made each other come last night, only that it was the best night of sleep I’ve had in months. Maybe longer.

I reach for Heather, eager for the warmth of her soft body, but the bed is empty.

Panicked, I roll out of bed and pull on a pair of sweatpants. I hurry down the hall, slowing when I discover her sitting on the floor, back against the couch. There’s a tablet in her hand and a cat curled up beside her legs.

“You’re up,” she says, smiling but not looking up. Her focus is on the screen and whatever she’s drawing.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to sleep so late.” I move around the back of the couch—she’s right, the thing’s a piece of shit I’ve been meaning to replace—to spy on her screen. From where I’m standing, it looks like some black and white map. “What’s that?”

“Side project,” she says.

“You draw maps now?”

“Mostly for fantasy and romance authors, yes.” Aries stretches out, pressing his paws against her bare leg.

My cock grows hard just thinking about those same bare legs under my sheets. She was so fucking wet last night. As much as I want to discover if she’s still that wet this morning, I stay behind the couch and simply watch her draw. I’ve waited too long for this to happen between us to rush it.