Playing With Fire (Firehouse Fourteen Book 2) (2 page)

"Good night. Drive safe."

He heard her mutter something that sounded suspiciously like a curse before she slammed the door shut, safely sealing her inside the little car. Jay shook his head again, still wondering about her mood, then walked over to his truck and climbed inside. He started the ignition and felt a kick of childish excitement at the rumbling of the engine before leaning forward and turning down the volume of the stereo. He hit the power button and lowered the window, looking over at Angie and waiting for her to pull out in front of him.

She was sitting in the front seat, her hand turning the key in the ignition. He watched her shake her head then pound her fist against the steering wheel in frustration.

With a sigh, he killed the engine on the truck then climbed out. He motioned for her to pop the hood on her car, then waited a full minute before he heard the latch release.

"Go ahead and try again." He leaned forward, listening as she turned the key.

Click click click, grind.

Click click. Grind.

Click.

Silence.

"Do you think it's the battery?" Angie's voice came from beside him but he didn't bother to turn and face her. He merely shook his head and leaned closer to the engine, shaking some wires, looking to make sure there weren't any loose connections.

"Try it again." He waited for her to get back into the car, then leaned closer to listen.

Click.

Silence.

Jay shook his head then slammed the hood shut. Angie leaned out the window, her lower lip pulled between her teeth as she watched him walk around the side of the car. "Is it the battery? Do you have cables?"

"I think it's the alternator. Jump start won't work. When's the last time you had the car serviced?"

Silence greeted his question and he didn't bother to say anything in response. She probably hadn't had the car serviced. Jay didn't understand why Dave hadn't made sure his own sister's car was working right.

"C'mon, I'll give you a lift home. We'll get it fixed in the morning." Jay opened the door for her, waiting for her to get out and telling himself that his use of the word 'we' meant absolutely nothing.

"But I'm working at the clinic tomorrow as part of my internship. I can't miss it!"

"Internship?"

"Yeah, for vet school."

"Can't Dave take you?" Even as he asked, he knew the answer. No, Dave couldn't take her, because Dave was working call back. Jay sighed and ran one hand through his short hair as Angie finally climbed out of the car. "Never mind. I'll take you then come back and work on the car. What time do you have to be there?"

"Nine. And I can't let you do that. It's too far for you to drive to our place, then back home, then back again. It's too much, Jay."

Whether it was or wasn't didn't matter because he had already offered. And it wasn't like he had anything else planned for tomorrow—today—anyway. "Not a problem, really. C'mon, let's go."

But Angie was shaking her head and leaning into the backseat, her shapely ass outlined by the worn faded denim of her jeans. Jay closed his eyes and swallowed, once again calling himself a fool for noticing.

"I have a better idea. I can just crash at your place, and you can drop me off in the morning. I already have everything I need right here." She held up a full backpack and offered him a bright smile before slamming the door shut and brushing by him.

And no, he hadn't imagined her literally brushing by him, the softness of her cotton shirt—the fullness of one soft breast—against his chest as she stepped around him.

What the hell? He was losing his mind. It had to have been an accident.

And he was scum for noticing, scum for taking even a split-second pleasure at the contact.

Then her words finally registered and he opened his mouth to say no, that it was completely inappropriate for her to even think about crashing at his place. But it was too late, because she had already climbed into the passenger seat of his truck, watching him with a bright smile on her face.

Jay didn't bother to hide his groan as he climbed in after her, his mind going full speed ahead, trying to find a way to tell her that she was not, no way in hell, crashing at his place.

"Thanks Jay, you have no idea how much I appreciate this." Angie tossed him a smile as she walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

He didn't move.

In fact, he hadn't moved from the spot just inside the front door of his apartment for the last five minutes. His feet had been frozen in place ever since they walked inside. Not just his feet; his voice and, quite apparently, his mind were also frozen.

Just what the hell did he think he was doing? Fuck. Okay, he was making more out of this than it really was. She was just crashing on the sofa for the night, that was all. Nothing else. Wouldn't be the first time one of his buddies crashed on his sofa.

Except Angie wasn't one of his buddies. No, she was Dave's sister. His
friend's
sister. His friend's
baby
sister.

Which didn't change anything. She was simply crashing, that was all.

Except he was having a hard time forgetting about their drive here from the bar. She had been leaning too close to him, her hand or arm brushing against him too frequently. And when she had leaned over in her enthusiasm to check out the various controls on the steering wheel of the new truck, he had been pretty sure that her chest had been brushing against his arm.

In fact, if it had been anyone else, Jay would swear that Angie had actually been flirting with him.

Flirting.

With him.

And if it had been anyone else, he would have flirted back, would already be wooing her into his bed.

But she wasn't anyone else. She was Dave's
baby sister
.

Holy shit, he needed somebody to tell him he had been imagining things. Because another thing he had noticed on the way home was that Angie most definitely was not a kid.

Far from it.

And she had been flirting. With him.

Shit. He really, really needed someone to tell him he was imagining things. Only it was almost three o'clock in the morning and there wasn't anyone he could call right now.

That insane thought snapped him out of his frozen state and he mentally kicked himself. He was being an ass. He was thirty years old, he knew how to control himself. He didn't need to talk to anyone. Hell, he really did have morals, and those included
not
panting after his friend's sister.

With that thought firmly in mind, he made a bee line down the short hall to his bedroom and pulled open the closet. A few spare pillows and extra blankets were on the top shelf, just for those occasions when anyone happened to crash on his sofa.

He stepped into the closet and reached for a pillow, telling himself again that he really needed to look into getting a house or something. Maybe he would start looking this week, it was past time. Satisfied with that plan, he reached up to grab a blanket then turned.

And bumped straight into Angie. She took a step back, her nervous laugh ringing in his ears and doing something funny to his gut.

"Oops, sorry."

Jay got a good look at her and felt his mouth go dry. His grip slipped on the pillow and blanket and they fell to the floor, but he made no move to pick them up. He couldn't, he was too busy staring at Angie.

She stood in front of him like some adolescent's wet dream, dressed in a pair of loose flannel boxers that were entirely too short. The soft material barely covered the tops of her thighs, showing off the length of her toned tanned legs.

Jay tried to swallow as his eyes moved from those shapely legs up, taking in the hint of flat toned stomach that peeked out from the hem of her tank shirt.

Her snug, very thin, white tank shirt.

And she wasn't wearing a bra.

He tried telling himself to stop looking. Dammit, she was a kid. Only she wasn't. And his eyes wouldn't listen to his brain because they were still focused on the fullness of those gorgeous breasts pushing against the thin material of the sleep shirt. So thin that he could see the dark outline of her nipples that contrasted with the pale gold of the rest of her skin. As he watched, her nipples hardened, rising to tiny peaks that thrust against the white cotton, as if begging for more attention.

And shit, it was no longer just his eyes that weren't listening to his brain.

Angie laughed again, the sound soft and welcoming as she stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his as she slowly bent over and picked up the pillow and blanket from the floor.

He closed his eyes, desperate to break that contact, calling himself every kind of fool and hoping, please God, that she would just turn around and leave.

But instead of hearing her footsteps retreat from the room, he heard a soft whoosh and even softer thump. He wasn't certain, but he thought that maybe she had tossed the pillow and blanket off to the side. His heart slammed against his chest and he hoped, prayed, he was wrong, prayed that this was not happening.

This couldn't be happening.

Something touched his chest and he knew without seeing that it was Angie's hand. The warmth of her palm through his shirt seared him, branding him, and he swallowed, told himself to move.

Her fingers dipped inside his shirt then slowly worked at the buttons, opening them one by one until his shirt hung open. He swallowed, told himself again to move, dammit, he couldn't be doing this.

Her hands gently caressed his chest, her palms soft and warm against his bare skin as they explored his body, moving across to his shoulders, down across his flat nipples, down further to his stomach to the waist band of his shorts.

His breath hitched at her touch, and his mind finally came to life. With a sharp inhale, he grabbed her hands and held them still, his eyes now open, his gaze finding and holding hers. The heat in their brown depths seared him but he found the strength to take a step back, her hands still caught in his.

"Angie, what are you doing?" He had meant to sound fierce, to sound in control and let her know that he wasn't going to play whatever game she was playing. But his voice was hoarse, the words coming out in something just above a ragged whisper that completely betrayed the authority he had been hoping to present.

"Did you know that I've had a crush on you for over a year now?"

His stomach clenched at her words. Not just the words, but the husky whisper of her voice.

"Angie." He had no idea what to say, his mind fighting for some sanity in this suddenly crazy situation. And then he couldn't say anything, because her mouth was suddenly on his, her lips soft and moist against his, their touch hesitant.

Any hesitation she may have felt quickly disappeared and she became bolder, darting her tongue out and running the wet tip against his lips, coaxing his own mouth open before he could stop. His tongue met hers, fighting for domination in this, at least.

He must have released her hands at some point because her arms wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer as she molded her body against his. Her soft curves pressed against him and he reached behind her, cupping her ass in his hands and pulling her more tightly against his erection.

A moan escaped her as she thrust her hips against him, and the sound broke the grip of whatever insanity plagued him. He let go of her and pulled away with a groan of his own, trying to take another step back even though she was still holding onto him.

"Angie, stop. We can't do this. I'm not doing this."

"Why?" Her throaty question threw him for a second and he tried to remember exactly why they couldn't do this. He shook his head, trying again to step away.

"Because we can't. You're Dave's sister and we can't—"

"You're not going to tell me you don't want to." A knowing gleam lit her eyes as her hand suddenly dropped from his chest to the front of his shorts. She ran her fingers up the length of his erection then cupped his hard length in her hand, squeezing.

Something snapped inside him at the touch and he had the insane idea that he would fight fire with fire, that he could somehow teach her a lesson. "You're playing with fire, Angie."

"Am I?" One corner of her mouth lifted in a seductively teasing smile, and something snapped in Jay. He had the insane idea to turn the tables, to scare her into realizing that she was going too far.

He cupped the back of her head with one hand and pulled her to him, his mouth slamming on hers in a kiss so fierce there could be no doubt he would conquer her. He caught her breathy moan with his mouth and forced her back against the wall, his free hand skimming the flesh of her stomach before grabbing the hem of her shirt and pulling it up.

He broke the kiss and stared down at her breasts, letting his eyes have their fill before he reached out and rolled one tight nipple between his fingers, lightly squeezing. Angie's head fell back on a low moan and her hips thrust forward, meeting his.

Shit. Shit, shit, this wasn't supposed to be happening.

Jay ignored the warning in his head and leaned down, taking her other nipple in his mouth, teasing, tasting her as his hands skimmed down her sides. His thumbs hooked into the band of her sleep shorts and dragged them down, past her hips, down to her thighs. He rolled his tongue around her nipple one last time then trailed his mouth down her stomach, dropping to his knees in front of her. He opened his eyes and let them feast on the sight of her waist, lower to the barely-there clipped curls between her thighs. He swallowed and looked up, expecting Angie to stare down at him in shock and horror.

Instead she offered him a siren's smile and ran her hand down her neck, down further to cup her breast. He watched, breathless, as she pinched one nipple between her fingers then lowered her hand even more, her fingers spread as they finally came to a stop between her legs. Her smile widened as she thrust her hips forward and slowly opened her legs before his eyes.

Jay swallowed, mesmerized as she spread herself with her index and ring fingers, her middle finger slowly rubbing against her clit. Light from the hall illuminated each touch, each swirl as her hips moved in a slow rhythm, hypnotizing. His throat dried up, his breathing harsh as he watched, helpless to look away as her finger circled her clit, the glint of moisture from her body reflected in the light from the hall.

"Fuck." Jay pushed away and stood up, anger burning bright inside him, pushing away the haze of misplaced passion. Without looking, he grabbed the waistband of her shorts and yanked them up, pulling down on her shirt at the same time. He grabbed her wrist in one hand, reached down and grabbed the blanket and pillow from the floor with his other hand, then pulled her out of his room. She tried tugging against him but he didn't release his hold on her until he reached the sofa.

He threw the blanket and pillow down, then made Angie sit as well. He looked down at her, his breathing still harsh but not as heavy, and ran a hand down his face.

"Fuck," he repeated. He opened his mouth to say something else, then snapped it closed, shaking his head. He turned to go back to his room, thought better of it, stopped and leaned down to place a quick kiss on the top of her head. He didn't miss the look of shock on her face as he turned and stormed back to his room, slamming the door behind him.

And locking it.

He had told her
she
was playing with fire? Yeah, he had never before been so wrong, because he was the one sitting here, burning up.

Fuck.