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He waited. He wasn’t going to ask the question again. He expected an answer.
“I want what you’re offering, Brick. I don’t know all of what that means, but enough of me does to take the first steps toward it. I trust you enough to do that. I just need to know what you expect of me, how I can be that for you.”
“And for yourself,” he added. “That’s also pretty damn important. I can help you with that. For now, stand just like this. Don’t move.”
He cupped the side of her neck. One large finger slowly slid behind the shell of her ear, along her neck, beneath the lobe. A touch like that said a man wanted to know a woman, learn her. Use those little gestures to find where her heart was, her soul, the center of what aroused and sheltered her. It reinforced what she’d just said.
She could give him her trust.
“What’s your safeword, Les?”
She couldn’t think, and looked to him in desperation.
“You can choose your own later. For now, it’s my given name. Jefferson. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
He shifted to a full grip of her throat. His hand was almost big enough to circle it. The change from gentleness to inexorable pressure was startling. "Feel your pulse against my palm. Look into my eyes as I hold you this way, feel what it does to you. Focus on me and what I want from you. Feel your response to that build, like your whole body, heart and soul are answering that demand.”
As he maintained that still, stronger-than-firm clasp, sensation speared through her, impaling her and holding her fast. He was doing nothing but staring at her face, gripping her throat, but as the seconds passed, her body became rigid with arousal, paralyzed by the force of her response. She honestly couldn’t move. A tiny gasp came from her, a little moan.
Flame flared amid the gray smoke of his eyes. “Yeah, baby. There you are. You know your Master.”
A whole civilized world vanished, leaving the two of them, her soul agreeing and surrendering to his with a painful surge of relief. Someone who knew her, who understood her. She didn’t have to question that knowledge, because he was demonstrating so well what she’d needed and wanted for so long, but been afraid to grasp.
Except with him.
The reason his badge number was in her password, the reason she’d worn the charm, it was all there in his grip.
He dropped his other hand and opened her jeans with a deft pull. “Get rid of these. Panties, too.”
No more barrier between his hand and her flesh. He didn’t let go of her throat, making her comply while he held her that way. It kept her from being able to bend as she normally would to remove the clothes. But the awkwardness tightened the screws on that arousal. She was obeying him on his terms.
She toed off her shoes and socks, then removed the jeans and panties. The cool air touched her sex, belly and thighs, her buttocks. Her T-shirt brushed her hip bones. Eyes still on hers, an unspoken requirement that she hold his gaze so he could watch every change in her face, he cupped the side of her breast, fingers following the shape of her bra.
“Take this off. Leave on the shirt.”
She reached behind her, which pressed her breast into his palm, and unhooked the garment, then fumbled the straps through the short sleeves, stripping it off. A moan broke from her as his hand closed fully over the curve, thumb stroking the nipple through the cotton.
His command, coupled to his full attention, was the most erotic thing she’d ever experienced. She wasn’t sure she’d survive it.
She licked her lips, a new sound escaping them as he dropped the other hand to her thigh again. “Why aren't your legs spread for me?" Thrilling menace lay in the soft words.
All her normal sass was beyond her reach. She couldn't quip, "Because you told me to stay still." She could only shift to comply, her movements still awkward because her body was weighted like deep water by his demands.
When he stroked the tops of her thighs, her mound, she changed her mind about her cause of death. She was going to catch fire. Good thing she was with a fireman, but she suspected he had no interest in quenching her flame. He wanted her to burn hot and hard, leaving nothing but ash.
“That term you used,” she said. “About a fire, when it’s taken over...”
“Fully involved. It means the structure is already lost to the fire. All we can do is contain and control it.”
He brushed a kiss over her ear, following it to her throat, above his grip. He nudged her chin up even higher to press his teeth to it. She inhaled his scent, trembling at the scrape of his jaw against her flesh.
“I contain the fire that consumes you, and I’m the one controlling it. Aren’t I, Les?”
“Yes. Yes, Sir. Oh…”
His lower hand moved again, teasing over the silky hair between her legs and finding her clit, stroking the labia with the touch of a man who knew a woman’s body.
