Blazing Midsummer Nights (Harlequin Blaze) (15 page)

“I know what you need.”

She remembered his words to her about knowing what she needed and how she needed it. Never had that been more true than right now.

She raised her arms, intending to draw him down. But instead, he pulled her up until she was sitting on the edge of the chaise, her legs parted, her sex swollen and so ready.

Holding her hips, he moved closer, until his cock was nestled against the lips of her sex. He stroked, moistening himself with her body’s juices, then began to slide into her, with wonderful—agonizing—restraint.

She held her breath, looking down, watching him slowly penetrate her, stunned by the beauty of
them.
It was wanton and earthy, so primal and perfect.

She was feeling stretched and wonderfully full before he was even halfway home. Urging him on with whimpers and whispered pleas, she wrapped her legs around his hips, trying to pull him forward, to take and take and take.

And finally, he gave. He groaned her name, caught her mouth in a hard kiss and plunged deep.

She let out a tiny scream, but he swallowed it with his kiss. They didn’t move for a moment, and she sensed he was savoring the sensations, as she was. Then, finally, he drew out a little, enough for her to miss the heat of him, before plunging again.

“Yes, more,” she pleaded, needing him to go faster, to thrust and pound, to empty and fill her, to leave his mark deep within her, where nobody had ever touched her before.

“Amazing,” he muttered, “you feel amazing.” He kissed her jaw, moved to her neck, sucked her nape. And continued to stroke, slow then hard, shallow then deep.

She tangled her hands in his hair, kissed him where she could, pushed to meet every thrust, pulled to take when he teased her by withholding one.

Finally, she saw the way his muscles were bunching and his lip curled up into a near snarl. He was close to the edge.

“Come in me, do it, finish it,” she demanded.

He growled something, then, revealing unbelievable strength, grabbed her bottom and pulled her off the chair. He didn’t even stop making love to her as he somehow rose to his feet, carrying her with him. Mimi held on, dizzy, dazzled and dazed.

“I want you in a bed,” he told her.

“Are you crazy?”

He pushed into her harder, daring her to think he couldn’t do exactly what he’d set out to do. And somehow, he did manage to stay inside her, his arms curled under her bottom, as he bent over and went through the secret door that led to his room. She was torn between laughing and screaming at him to make her come again as he moved through the tiny closet into his own bedroom.

When they reached the big bed, he lowered her onto it and followed her down, she realized she didn’t want to laugh or scream. She wanted to sigh, to cry with happiness. Because sinking into the bed, with him on top of her, being able to look up and see his handsome face in the softly lit room, in a soft, comfortable bed, was exactly how she wanted to finish this night.

The frenzy died a little, as if that’s what he’d been going for, and Xander slowed his strokes. Bracing himself on one arm, he moved a hand to her breast, stroking her gently, almost reverently. “You’re perfect,” he told her.

“This is perfect,” she replied. And she meant it.
Sheer perfection.

She might not have even realized it was possible a couple of weeks ago. Now she knew it was. He’d shown her.

And, she realized, he intended to continue to show her.

All night long.

* * *

D
ESPITE NOT HAVING
drifted to sleep until at least
3:00 a.m., after hours of the most incredible sex of his life, Xander woke up at eight feeling better than he ever had. It had taken him a second to remember everything that had happened, but hearing Mimi’s contented sigh, and feeling her long, slim leg slide between his as she draped herself over him in her sleep, everything had come flooding back.

He would love to stay this way, all tangled up, the sheets long gone, the warmth of their bodies all they needed. But he had somewhere to be, and had to get up. That meant he had to get her up. Because he didn’t intend to let her out of his sight today—so she was coming with him.

“Hey, beautiful,” he whispered against her cheek, “are you hungry?”

She mumbled something.

“What was that?”

“Hungry for you,” she repeated.

His mouth watered. He was hungry for her, too, and suspected he always would be.

He couldn’t get enough of her, despite having made love to her for hour after hour the previous night. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he was capable of staying hard for so long, or coming a gallon at a time. He just knew that all Mimi had to do was flash him a tiny, flirtatious smile, and he wanted to crawl all over her.

“I meant,” he said, knowing he had no time to act on those kinds of thoughts right now, “are you hungry for breakfast?”

She yawned widely, finally opening her eyes to peer at him through long, tangled strands of red hair. “Didn’t we eat at around two o’clock this morning?”

“That was dessert,” he replied. He reached out and rubbed a tiny brown smear on her cheek. “Missed a spot of chocolate.”

She nipped at his finger. “That ice cream was cold.”

“Not after you warmed it up with your body.” He sighed, remembering licking spoonfuls of sweet, creamy confection off her nipples, her thighs, her clit.

“I’m just glad you didn’t have Chunky Monkey in your freezer,” she said with a giggle. “You might never have found all the chunks.”

He leered. “I don’t know. I think if I looked closely enough, I’d have gotten every last nut.” Then, knowing she was about to seduce him back into her arms, he leaped off the bed and swatted her gorgeous backside.

She glared.

“Come on, time to get something to eat.”

“In bed?”

“Nope.”

She wagged her brows. “Are you sure you don’t want to have breakfast in bed?”

No, he wasn’t sure. He desperately wanted to get back in that bed and not get up again until dinnertime. But he had obligations. “Come on…fluffy pancakes, crispy bacon. I’m cooking. You know you want it.”

She perked right up. “I am starving. I worked up an appetite last night. Do you have everything you need to make it?”

“Yep, it’s all covered.” He headed for the bathroom. “Come on, take a shower with me and we’ll go.”

She paused halfway out of the bed. “Go? I thought you were cooking.”

“I am, just not here,” he told her as he turned on the shower, glad his big, old-fashioned claw-foot tub was big enough for two. He’d like to make it a long, sultry shower—and someday wanted to see Mimi soaking in this tub, up to her chin in bubbles. But for now, a quick wash would have to do.

“Okay, mister, what’s going on?” she asked as she joined him in the bathroom.

“Pancake breakfast at work,” he told her with a grin. “It’s a fundraiser. I’m on KP duty from nine ’til eleven. So get moving, woman.”

Her jaw dropped. “At the fire station?”

“No, the gas station…of course the fire station! You in?”

He waited, wondering what she’d do. He hadn’t given a second thought to inviting the Mimi who’d spent the night in his arms to join him at a community breakfast, where there would be lots of families, other firefighters and locals.

But the trust-fund Mimi? The one born with the silver spoon in her mouth, whose father owned one of the biggest independent grocery store chains in the south, who’d been taken to some snazzy, ritzy restaurant just a few nights ago by her snazzy, ritzy ex? Well, he hadn’t even been thinking about her when he issued the invitation.

He should have, he knew that. That other woman was part of Mimi, too. And someday the two parts of her were going to have to come together.

He didn’t worry about that day, though. Because Xander had already realized that, no matter what the outward trappings, or even excluding the crazy-wild lust they’d shared the night before, there really was only one Mimi when all was said and done. The Mimi he’d come to know smiled easily, laughed brightly, would climb a tree to rescue a cat for a kid she didn’t know. She would brave scary-movie psycho-killers to retrieve forgotten scissors so that same kid couldn’t possibly get hurt on them the next day—he’d gotten the scissors during the night when he’d gone out to retrieve his shorts and the remnants of her nightgown. She was witty and honest, easygoing and fun, sexy as hell and a little bit klutzy.

She was not the kind of woman who would turn up her nose at a firehouse pancake breakfast. At least, he hoped not.

She proved his faith in her by offering him a big smile. “So am I going to get to meet your firefighter buddies and hear all about your bad-boy ways?”

Allowing himself the tiniest sigh of relief, he chuckled. “Sorry, I’m the new guy, they barely know me. I’ve only been there a month. Not enough time to be really bad.”

“I’m sure you could manage if you try,” she said with a suggestive lift of her brow.

“I think I proved that last night.”

“Was that you being bad? I would have called that very—
very
—good.”

“Right back at you,” he growled.

Their mouths met in a kiss, but Xander didn’t let himself get lost in it. He ended it with one lingering caress of her hip, turning back to the tub.

“So if you’ve been there a month, where were you staying before you moved in here last weekend?” she asked, watching as he tested the water.

“An extended-stay hotel.”

Her eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Yep. I didn’t know anybody, had no idea where I’d end up when I got on the road from Chicago and drove down here to start the job.”

Holding the curtain back, he gestured for her to get in ahead of him, holding her hand while she stepped over the high-sided tub into the steamy stream of water.

“That was quite a change,” she said as he joined her.

“Which was exactly what I was going for.”

“Why?”

Seeing the curiosity in her eyes, he thought about how to explain. He wasn’t certain he could convey how badly he’d needed to completely break away from his old life, to start a new one, where there were no tragic memories, no lingering melancholy over the things he’d lost, and regret over all the things he would never have.

He’d known for a long time that his future kids would probably grow up not knowing their grandmother. But it had never crossed his mind that fate could be so cruel as to deprive him of his father, too, who’d been so strong and healthy—right up until the day he hadn’t been.

“Xander?”

He still hesitated. This wasn’t exactly typical morning-after conversation. They should be talking about how amazing the night had been, how he felt sure he’d never experienced anything more incredible than being wrapped in her tight, hot body.

But something made him talk, open up to her, in a way he hadn’t with anyone else since he’d found out his dad had cancer sixteen months ago.

“I told you my parents died last year,” he finally said, reaching for the soap and gently rubbing it over her bare shoulders.

“Yes.” Her wide eyes looked moist, and not just from the steam. “That must have been so painful.”

“It fucking sucked,” he told her. There was no other way to put it. “I missed them, of course.” He swallowed, hard. “It was bad with my mom, but somehow even worse with my dad, who actually moved in with me when he got really sick. So I was with him almost nonstop at the end.”