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He gave her no quarter. “And you’re not answering the question.”
“Yes.” Lucy marshalled all the nonchalance she could into her voice, but it still came out breathy and soft. Oh, God, he was so close, she could feel the heat radiating from him. His right knee less than an inch from her left. Elbows, hands. Mouth. Inches away. “I think you’re a nice guy.”
It went right to his fucking head, of course. “You like me.”
His smile was cocky, and God help her, Lucy wanted to capture it with her mouth. To claim it so she’d know how good confidence like that tasted. “Probably more than I should.”
His auburn brows lifted, but his eyes went darker, like melted milk chocolate. “You make that sound like a bad thing.”
“It’s not bad,” she said immediately. She wanted to add that it was complicated, she couldn’t let herself like him because he was a firefighter, and she couldn’t—wouldn’t—take the risk. But she couldn’t make herself say anything else, because her brain had left the building at the sight of Sam’s firm, full mouth, moving closer to hers.
Oh, hell, she was the one moving, and even though she realized it, knew where it would take her and what that might mean, she couldn’t stop. “It’s not bad,” she repeated.
“Lucy,” Sam whispered, his lashes fanning up to frame his wide stare. But he didn’t move away. “Are you—”
Before he could finish the sentence she was certain would end in the word “sure”, she kissed him.
13
Sam was dreaming. No, wait, that couldn’t be right. He’d dreamed of kissing Lucy before, probably far more often than he should anddefinitelyfar more often than was proper, and it had never once been this good. This hot. This real. Lucy exhaled against his lips, the warmth anchoring him in the moment and telling his brain that, no, he wasn’t dreaming and yes, this was actually happening, and the rest of him didn’t fucking hesitate.
He pressed his mouth to hers a little harder, increasing the contact by just a degree as he moved his lips. The friction was soft and sweet, but it shot directly to his cock all the same, daring him to escalate. A noise crossed Lucy’s lips that dared him even more, some sound caught between need and want that made him want to wreck any barrier between them so he could have her on every last part of him. Sam moved to cup her face, wanting to pull her closer. The kitchen stools and breakfast bar made the position of their bodies totally awkward even though the kiss was goddamn perfect, and he lowered his hands to her shoulders, guiding her off her bar stool as he slid off of his own to meet her.
A sigh drifted up from Lucy’s chest, her arms knotting over his shoulders. Sam parted her lips with a glide of his tongue, his knees damn near buckling at the intoxicating heat of her mouth. She was only four or five inches shorter than him, and it proved to be the perfect alignment for their bodies, allowing him to angle over her, his mouth on hers and their chests crushed together. They kissed hungrily, tongues exploring and sliding, retreating only long enough for a breath before starting again. Sam needed more of her,allof her, everything right fucking now, and he hooked his arms beneath hers, refusing to lose the connection of their lips as he walked her backward to the nearest flat surface.
Lucy’s shoulders bumped against his pantry door, her fingertips digging into the cotton of his long sleeved T-shirt just above his shoulder blades. “This is crazy,” she whispered when he broke off to tilt her head up with one palm, using his lips and tongue to coax her into a moan. “Oh, God. Please do that again.”
“Please.” Sam’s laugh was dark and loaded with everything he wanted to do to her. “So polite.” He repeated the path of his mouth, stringing heated kisses over her neck, and her moan turned into a whimper.Yes. “What could I do that would make you ditch those pretty manners, I wonder.”
He slid a kiss, this one harder, over her mouth, before letting his lips hover over her ear. “Could I touch you, right here?”
Sam dragged his fingertips from her back to the side of her rib cage, his palm splayed wide and his thumb—the lucky fucker—hooked an inch from the curve of her breast. When he stopped, waiting for consent to keep going, Lucy nodded vigorously.
“Words,” he demanded, knowing it was bossy but not caring. “I need you to say it.”
“Y-yes.” She inhaled, seeming to reset. Reaching down to twine her fingers around his, she lifted his hand higher, bringing the outer heel of his hand to the spot where her breast met her body and his fingers around the full weight of her.
“Yes, I want you to touch me here,” she said, kissing him to punctuate the words.
Well, he’d finally found the thing that might kill him. Not that he wouldn’t die happy as fuck.
Sam smiled against her skin. “So pretty.” He stroked his thumb over her nipple, his dick jerking at the way she hardened and gasped. She arched into the touch, her fingers tightening to fists that clutched his shirt as he worked her body with his hand. He didn’t tease or touch her lightly, shoving right past anything sweet in favor of straight-up sin. The barrier of her sweater and bra quickly became too much for his greedy hands, and he pushed past the thin material of both to cup her breast, skin on skin.
“Oh, God,yes,” Lucy whisper-moaned, arching even higher, wordlessly seeking more of his touch. Sam wasn’t about to deny her—he’d move an actual mountain right now for the privilege of making her come. He took a second to rake a gaze over her, her head tilted back and curls wild around her face, her perfect breast spilling into his palm, her tight, brown nipple just begging to be tasted, and he didn’t hesitate. Sliding his opposite hand around her back and between her shoulder blades, he levered her up at the same time he leaned down to close his lips around her. The sound Lucy made was both criminal and unbelievably hot, and he adjusted the pressure of his fingers and mouth, using her moans and the motion of her body as a guide. Unable to help himself, he freed her other breast to give it the same treatment, tasting and licking until she writhed under his touch.
“Please,” she said, the husky need in her voice turning his cock to iron.
“Again with those manners.” Sam slid one hand to her belly, pausing for her nod and whispered “yes” before dipping lower, stroking her pussy over her jeans. Lucy’s head fell back, her eyes squeezed shut, but he used his free hand to cup her face, bringing their gazes level.
“Uh-uh. Eyes wide open, baby. I want you to know exactly who’s making you come.”
In an instant, Lucy’s eyes flew wide, her body turning rigid beneath his hands. Sam’s pulse skidded from want to worry. He lowered his hands out of instinct, then took a step back as the look on her face registered in full.
“We can’t…I can’t do this…with you.”
The words sliced through him harder than they should have, but it was a clear no. He’d never argue with that.
He let go of her, taking a half-step back. “Okay.”
