Page 27 of Airhead

She controlled what happened to her heart. The fact that she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anyone, or anything, in her life had everything to do with parts of her body far south of her chest.

His grasp on her waist was still loose, but she didn’t want it to be. She slipped her hands from behind his neck to his shoulders, sinking her fingers into the muscle there. Pulling him downward, she raised herself up on her toes. “I’m not looking for love,” she said, drawing her metaphorical line in the sand.

“And that’s exactly when you find it,” he shot back before dipping his head and kissing her like he’d already had.

Desire rushed through her like he’d set a Zippo’s flame to the spray from a can of AquaNet. She couldn’t have stopped even if she’d wanted to. All of her self-denial melted away under the heat of it. She was kissing him back on the next heartbeat, desperate to touch him and taste him everywhere she could.

Her fingers yanked at the hem of his T-shirt, pulling it upward so she could slide her hands underneath. Fuck he was rock solid, with hard muscle built on the job not in a gym. It was functional, practical. She didn’t have enough blood going to her brain to figure out why that was such a turn-on but it was—it was proof that he wasn’t all flash and show. Logically, she knew it would be better if he was, but reasoning had taken a backseat to the want firing through her.

“Whoa, slow down,” Frank said when she started in on the button fly of his jeans. “We have time.”

“No we don’t.” And she wasn’t sure she could now that they’d finally started—not that she was going to admit that to him. “The clocks already ticking on someone noticing we’re missing.”

He curled his fingers around her wrists, but didn’t move her hands from where they were so cruelly close to what she wanted. “And is that a bad thing?”

“You know it is.”

There would be talk—the kind that got back to the firehouse, and then it would really spread. Before she could come up with a game plan to deal with the gossip, she’d be just another notch on Hartigan’s bedpost to them. It wasn’t fair, but it was what it was.

He shook his head at her statement. “I don’t know that.”

It was pretty to think so, but this was 1981. Things had changed, but she’d still be at fault and he’d be the stud. That they both wanted to be here didn’t matter. It was the kind of small time thinking that had made her want to get out of Waterbury in the first place. Sometimes this town crowded in on Katie, and it was enough to make her want to scream into the wind—or give in to what she really wanted and have a one-night stand with Frank Hartigan.

“Frank,” she said, her heart slamming against her ribs. “Do you want me?”

He took her hand and cupped it against the thick line of his hard cock. “What do you think?”

Lungs tight with hope-soaked razor wire, she sucked in what air she could and laid it all on the line. “Then fuck me right here, right now.”

For a second, he didn’t say anything. Just appraised her—not because he was checking out her boobs or something, but with caution, as if she was offering up the one thing he’d always wanted but never thought he’d actually get. “You sure?”

She pulled her hand free from his hold, hiked up her mini skirt, and hooked her thumbs in the waistband of her panties, hesitating only long enough to clock that he was looking at her like he’d never seen something he wanted so much in his life. Then she shoved her underwear down her legs.

“What do you think?” she echoed.

After that, there wasn’t the time or inclination for more talk. She sank to her knees and went back to work on his button fly before yanking his jeans down, along with his jockeys, freeing that glorious dick of his. Long and thick, she wrapped all ten of her fingers around it—or at least she tried. There really wasn’t much she could do to encompass him. She stroked his cock while looking up at him and watching. He fought to hold onto his control as she double fisted him, pumping up and down in slow, sure strokes.

“Jesus, Katie,” he said, his voice strained. “You don’t have to⁠—"

Whatever he was going to say next transformed into a harsh groan when she opened her mouth and took him in as deep as she could. Hands still at the base of him, she worked him with her hot mouth, tongue and fists getting a little farther each time, relishing the way his body reacted to her touch.

“Katie.” He whispered her name like a soft curse. “Get off my fucking dick before I lose it.”

Looking up at him, she just winked and kept going.

“Is that what this is?” he ground out. “A game of torture?”

She lifted an eyebrow in mocking retort because they both knew they were having the time of their lives.

“Watch out, honey,” he said, promising a whole lot with that warning. “Two can play at that game.”

He was breathing hard when he put his hands on her shoulders, holding her in place as he stepped back. His eyes went dark as he watched her wipe the corner of her mouth with her thumb and then suck the moisture off of it.

Frank moved fast for someone who could be mistaken for an oak tree. He had her up in the air on the next inhale, and before she could even think to exhale, her ass was barely on one of the two-drawer filing cabinets. With her legs spread wide, Frank’s fingers traced circles around her wet opening as he kissed the ever-loving hell out of her. All she could do was plant her hands on the corners of the cabinet and lean back to give him better access as pleasure washed over her.

Just when she thought she couldn’t take it any longer, he moved from sliding in and out of her clenching core to circling her clit as he kissed his way down her neck, teasing and nipping at her sensitive flesh, stringing her tighter and tighter with each swipe of his thumb and brush of his lips.

If there was a world outside of the supply closet, Katie didn’t give a fuck any more. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was the way Frank was touching her. Hot need curled in her belly in rhythm with the speed of his strokes as he alternated between teasing her clit and sinking two fingers in her pussy, making things better and worse at the same time until everything was too much and not enough.