Controlled Burn (5 page)

He plucked at the elastic and then dragged down her panties, his hair rubbing her belly and her mound as he bent to take them to her feet. She stepped out of them, then gasped again as he pushed on her feet, telling her silently to spread them.

The pressure on her ankles released, and he nuzzled her belly, the bristles of his whiskers scraping her skin and making it quiver. He scraped over her mound, and she let out a little moan, because moisture was trailing down one thigh, and soon he’d know.

His tongue stroked out and burrowed into the top of her folds, and, at that moment, she thought she’d die. “Jeremiah!” She gripped his hair and tugged, trying to draw him away, but he was insistent, his tongue flicking and rubbing, and her clit grew harder and harder, until the thin hood receded, and he touched it directly.

Her entire body shuddered, and she gave a choked cry, curving over him and gripping his hair to anchor her. Just when she felt ready to burst, she felt him pull back.

He held out a hand. “Lie down, Carly.”

She released her grip on his hair and let him bring her to the blanket, his arms coming around her body to help her settle to the ground. As she lay there, staring upward, he bent and kissed her breasts, taking time to lick and nibble at them before moving downward to kiss her mound.

Carly’s breaths came in shallow, ragged puffs. She combed her fingers through his hair and scraped his scalp, giving encouragement.

Quickly, he rose and stripped off his jeans and underwear.

Apparently not feeling a bit of the concern she’d had when she’d stood nude. And why would he? The man was built like a god. No excess flesh. Narrow waist. Muscled thighs. A thick, straight cock. She wanted to reach out and touch him, but he’d been adamant about her not doing that.

He wrapped his fingers around his shaft and gave one stroke, then ringed himself at the base of his cock and held it, closing his eyes. “Don’t look at me like that,” he growled.

“Like what?” But she knew she looked hungry. If he glanced at her now, he’d see her licking her lips. At that moment, she wanted more than anything to have the courage to lick him up and down, to learn his flavors, his textures. And she wanted to start with the part of him that was most male.
Most interesting.

His eyes opened, and he released himself. He went to his knees then climbed between her legs, nudging her with his knees until she was spread wide. “My jeans,” he said, tilting his chin toward them lying beside her. “There’s a condom in my wallet.”

“For a rainy day?” she quipped breathlessly.

An eyebrow arched. “For a sunny one.”

Her hands were shaking a little, but she managed to slide the condom from an interior pocket of his wallet, and then held it out for him to take.

One corner of his mouth quirked upward, and he shook his head.

She bit her lower lip. She’d never slid one on a cock. Had only had one cock—in college. The experience hadn’t left her wanting more. So here she was, hoping she wouldn’t look stupid as she searched the edge of the plastic square for the little notch, then carefully tore open the packet. The condom fell on her chest.

When she picked it up and pulled at the center to stretch it, she raised her glance.

His gaze was steady and warm. “You haven’t cloaked a man’s cock before, have you?”

She frowned. “It’s that obvious?”

“You looked…worried. And you were concentrating too hard.”

Frowning, she fit the circle to the end of his cock, plucking at the center to make sure she’d left room for his ejaculate to fill it—just as she’d learned from a You Tube video using a banana. Then she slowly rolled it down his shaft. When she’d gotten the edge near the base of his sex, she arched a brow. “That okay?”

“Perfect,” he whispered through gritted teeth.

Still holding him, she gave into her curiosity, encircling him with her fingers. They didn’t meet. Carly swallowed, and her breathing grew more rapid. “We’ll fit, right?”

His mouth curved slightly. “We’ll fit. Have you been with anyone else?”

She jutted out her chin. “Of course.”

“Really?”

She glared upward. “A couple of times, with this guy in my government class in college.”

“And that’s it?”

She shrugged. “I haven’t been that interested.”

“Why change your mind today?”

She couldn’t meet his gaze, and instead trailed a finger down his length. “You did.”

Jeremiah sighed and lowered his torso to rest on one elbow while he slipped a hand between her legs. His fingers thrummed against her pussy, and then a single digit slipped inside.

At the intrusion, she stiffened and forced herself to breathe deeply.

He slid another inside, all the while watching her face.

Her lip trembled, and she bit it. Feeling his fingers swirl inside, she groaned and lifted her knees, needing to rock up and down as he began to stroke in and out.

Carly forgot to school her features, giving herself over to the sensations his fingers produced. A cool breeze wafted between their bodies, and her nipples tightened harder. She cupped one, caressing herself, and noted how his gaze followed the motion and that his fingers stroked faster.

Obviously, he liked watching her, so she put both hands into play, massaging her breasts, assuaging some of the ache he built inside her.

The touch of his thumb rasping over her clit made her arch her back, and she cried out, “Please. Please, Jeremiah.”

He withdrew his fingers and braced his weight on both hands. “Guide me inside, Carly.”

Lord, she liked the rough texture of his voice. He wasn’t unmoved. Wasn’t casual at all.

Carly reached for his cock and rubbed the tip over her clit, pleasing herself, then slid it downward between her folds. Once it was at her entrance, she glanced up to catch his glance.

“Ready?” he whispered.

“No.”

He grunted, his gaze narrowing.

“You asked.”

His dark brows drew together. “Don’t make me laugh.”

“Can’t you do it if you laugh?”

“Yes, but…” He shook his head. “I need to concentrate.”

“Why? Afraid you’ll do it wrong?” She fluttered her eyelashes. “Don’t you remember how?”

“You’re teasing, right?”

“Yeah.” She let one side of her mouth curve. “I have no doubt you’ve practiced a lot.”

He gave a laugh that turned into a groan the moment he pushed inside her body.

She felt pressure as her body tried to accommodate his girth. “You’re bigger than I had before.”

“Stop talking.” His jaw tightened as he began to move inside her, pushing inward, pulling out.

“I can’t help it. I have nothing to do. You said I couldn’t touch you.”

“Changed my mind. Hold me, Carly. Hold on tight.”

Tentatively, and then with more assurance as she read the pleasure in his face, she smoothed her hands around his waist, ran her fingertips down his spine, and then clutched his buttocks because he was moving faster, and she was fascinated with the hard, flexing muscles she held.

She dug her fingernails into his skin, and his entire body hardened, his movements quickening. Soon he was driving hard toward her womb, his cock ravaging her slick, rippling walls. She couldn’t help it, she wagged her head side to side and hummed. “So good, ’miah, so good.”

He paused and pushed away from the ground, his cock slipping out, but just for a moment as he slid his bent arms beneath her knees and lifted her bottom. Then he centered himself and drove hard inside her. Soon he was pistoning, jerking her legs to slide her toward him as he hammered deep.

With him so far above her, she had nothing to touch except herself, and she did, pinching her nipples because she needed the distraction. Inside her belly, excitement tightened her core, holding her nearly breathless.

She was close. And she almost feared the explosion because she’d never felt this intensity, and knew she’d lose control—and she was afraid, because he was so strong, so much more experienced, and she didn’t want him to see her as anything less—certainly not as this wild creature who wanted to shout aloud, wanted to curse, because the pleasure was right there, and her sight was narrowing.

He fucked her faster and faster, relentlessly, ruthlessly, and then she couldn’t hide—her mouth opened on a keening cry and her back arched impossibly hard. All she heard were her heartbeats pounding in her ears, all she felt was the expanding pleasure that trembled through her body, from her core and radiating outward to her limbs. When she could think again, when she finally dragged air into her starved lungs, she slowly opened her eyes.

She rested inside his embrace, and he was pushing her hair from her face, and pressing kisses against her cheeks and mouth. “You’re back,” he whispered and rolled, taking her over his body—still locked together.

Carly rested her knees on the ground beside his hips and hid her face in the corner of his neck, still huffing her breaths.

His hands glided up and down her back. “You have goose bumps. Are you cold?”

She snorted. But couldn’t answer, because her voice felt raw, and tears burned at the back of her throat.

His hands cupped either side of her face, and he forced it above him. His gaze swept her face and his hands softened, holding her as though she was fragile. “I hurt you.”

She shook her head.

“Then why are you crying?”

“I’m not.”

A thumb stroked the moisture on her cheek, and he arched a brow.

But he didn’t call her a liar.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his tone deepening.

Another fat tear leaked down her cheek. “Don’t be. I’m okay.”

He narrowed his gaze. “You’re shivering and crying.”

“And you said
I
talked too much,” she griped, but her voice was muffled and thick.

“I did not.”

“You wanted me quiet.”

“You were driving me crazy, Carly. I needed to concentrate, so I could hold back. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“Well, you didn’t do that.”

“Well, I did something.”

Fuck, yeah, he had. She sighed. He wasn’t letting the issue go until she told the truth. “I’ve never felt like that,” she said softly. “Please can you
not
look at me?”

“Impossible.”

“You like reducing your girls to blubbering, soppy messes?”

“Actually, it’s never happened before.” He smiled gently and let go of her face.

She lowered and rested her cheek against his shoulder.

He placed a hand behind his head and raised it, and then tipped her chin so that once again, their gazes locked. “Baby, I’ve never felt like that either.”

‡

S
aturday morning arrived,
and Jeremiah was grumpy, having slept little the night before. They’d returned home in the late afternoon. Carly had hurried straight upstairs to clean up, and then threw herself into chores around the house. No matter how hard he tried to corner her to talk, she managed to slip away.

He hadn’t slept worth a damn because every time he closed his eyes, he relived those last moments when he’d made love to Carly, remembering how she’d arched and cried out, and then gone limp beneath him.

He’d never had a woman pass out on him during sex, and it had scared him half to death until she’d moaned and slowly stiffened. The moment her eyes opened, he hadn’t felt any relief because she stared with bruised, damp eyes.

Her expression haunted him. And he knew why. There was no escaping the fact they’d both found something unimaginable when they’d finally thrown down their defenses and crashed together.

They’d found a powerful connection. One he wasn’t willing to ignore.

If only she wasn’t so determined to do exactly that.

This morning, they stood with the group of volunteers in a field just outside of town. Pale, prickly stalks of cut hay awaited their drip torches. Every volunteer wore fire gear: hard hats, goggles, fire retardant clothing, leather gloves, and boots. Tools had been distributed according to what each person’s role would be during the burn.

Jeremiah held a drip torch. A two-way radio was clipped to his belt.

Glancing at Carly, he eyed the oversized yellow fire jacket he’d found because he didn’t want her wearing plain cotton. Her gloves were a little large, too, because he’d borrowed those from Mayra. Carly held a rake, and a sack was tucked and hung from her back pocket. The hard hat and goggles obscured her face, but he could see the grim line of her mouth.

Again, he wished he knew what was going through her mind. Was she excited or fearful? Either way, he’d keep close to her.

Caldera’s Fire Chief, Blake Thacker, had been made the Fire Boss above the rep from park services because he was experienced with prescribed burns and knew the local people. He stood on a wooden platform and held a bullhorn. Already, they’d formed teams, talked about their duties during the fire, and now they’d practice setting then extinguishing fires. Each group had their own little piece of the field to practice with, the boundaries marked with white stakes.

Blake raised a handheld device that measured wind speed. They were all waiting for the moment the speed rose past five miles per hour, because fire wouldn’t move without enough of a breeze to carry it along. He lowered the device and raised his bullhorn. “Teams, set your fires.”