Page 6 of Up In Flames

I feel them in my core. My balls harden into tight stones. Sweat dampens me everywhere.

Instead of spurring me on faster, my feet slow. “Want me to stop, Jelly Bean?” I ask softly.

In response, she grips my jacket and turns it tight between her hands, which isn’t easy to do given all the layers of protection. She bites her lower lip and moans.

“Jelly Bean?”

She hides her face against me. “Don’t. Stop,” she pants.

Good enough. Carefully, I move her up and down, stroking over her as best I can while moving forward towards her front door, using my fingers to further the end she’s seeking. She weighs nothing in my arms. I could carry ten of her.

“Grip Pete’s jacket. Don’t let it fall.” Because then everyone will know what I’m doing to her.

And she does, one hand still twisting into my outerwear, one hand clutching at his. Her fingers turn white from the force as mewls and little cries escape her. My middle finger tempts fate and inserts just past the fingernail, just a little… just enough… and my thumb presses on her clit a tiny bit harder as I tighten the circles.

And she’s fast. Not even a second later, she devolves into shudders. She silences her cry against my chest, screaming open-mouthed without sound into my jacket.

The oddest sort of contentment and victory speed through me.

I just gave Nina the rescue of her life.

Sure, I’m proud of myself. What man wouldn’t be?

CHAPTER 3

Nina

I can’t believe what just happened. To me. With him. With Sampson Dean.

When he caught me mid-air, I thought I’d go up like a piece of dry paper. Not only did he slide along the most sensitive part of me, but the way he flipped me over as he caught me told me he was strong. Really strong. Like… supernaturally strong. I write dark vampire romance for a questionable living. Of course I’m impressed.

Because his hands are so big and his fingers so long, he hit exactly where I most need to be touched. I was sure he hadn’t noticed… hoped he hadn’t noticed… until our gazes clashed like battling armies. A ring of fire blazed across his dark pupils and into the green of his eyes. His jaw tightened. Sweat sprang up on his brow.

But he didn’t stop touching me, didn’t remove his fingers or change his hold. All he offered me was a brief apology while he studied me to gauge my reaction.

That was the moment when I should have said, “Get your hand off my pussy, mister!”

But I didn’t.

And damned if that boy doesn’t know his way around a clit. That meaty finger moved with perfect pressure against my sensitive bundle of nerves, almost like he was so practiced in pleasuring women, he could do it blindfolded.

Or, during a rescue, while carrying the damsel in distress to safety.

Fine. I’ve been in the desert too long. It couldn’t have been him and his perfect touch bringing me to the fastest orgasm I’ve ever experienced. It must have been abstinence, right?

Fuck, I came for him. I came for my enemy in broad daylight and in sight of half the town.

Now, what do I do?

“Jelly Bean,” he whispers against the top of my head as I come down from my high.

Can someone please kill me now?

When we hit my sitting room, he deposits me on the couch, finally removing his hand. I ignore the way my core crunches with the loss, and focus instead on how he gently places Mr. Mittens onto the arm of the furniture. The action brings Sampson’s eyes nearly on level with my own.

He remains bent over for three beats too long before he whispers, “You know that was an accident, right?”

I nod quickly, the heat in my face threatening to actually burn me alive. “I don’t—that is, I mean…” I try to stutter out a response that will excuse me from the fool I’ve been. From the horny, single, female who just came for him like a sex-deprived lunatic.