Seducing the Fireman (Risky Business) (6 page)

Smirking, she looked him up and down. “You mean after I sent your naked ass packing? Yeah, I really did. You’re mistaken if you thought differently.”
She lifted her chin, the hard set of her jaw telling him everything he needed to know. Despite her nonchalant attitude, he was under her skin. “And crashing my set? Not cool.”

“What?” He leaned in close, their cheeks nearly touching as he whispered in her ear. “Disappointed Mr. October couldn’t make it? Sorry about that. But I’ll tell you what—after the other night? After I licked that sweet
little body of yours? The only man I want you thinking about is me.”

She gasped, her breath coming hard and fast.

That was better. He needed her off balance, not lost in her head where everything was black and white, right or wrong. Better to set her on fire and have her careening out of control.

“My interest is strictly professional,” she countered, cocking her hip.

“You
haven’t taken your eyes off me since I set foot in this warehouse, so you’ll forgive me for saying it sure doesn’t feel strictly professional. By the way, I think you’ve got a little something”—he rubbed his thumb across her chin as if wiping away drool—“right there.”

“What I meant, you jackass, was how did you do it?” There it was, that wild look in her eye. “The models were selected months
ago.”

“Yeah, well, after that little stunt with the radio station, the guys in the company were happy to help me convince Mr. October to retire so I could take his spot.”

“Lovely.” She rolled her eyes, dismissing him. “We need to get started. We’re burning daylight, and I haven’t eaten all day. If you can rein in your ego and take a little direction, we should be able to get this done
pretty quickly.”

“When it comes to you and me,” he said, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, “I will
always
take my time.”

Chapter Eight

Jax thought he could strong-arm his way into her life? Well, they’d just see about that, wouldn’t they? Maybe it was time the man had his ego knocked down a few pegs. She glanced at her watch. They weren’t
that
tight on time. Then again, did she dare screw around on the job?

When he flashed her that panty-dropping grin of his, the one she was sure he’d used on
scores of women, the one he probably thought would land him front and center in the calendar, the decision was easy.

“How do you want me?”

On your knees and begging
.

Since that was unlikely to happen, she gave him a smile so sweet it practically sent her into sugar shock. “I’d like try something a little different for National Fire Prevention Month. You can go ahead and put your
shirt back on.”

“Are you serious? There is nothing okay about asking that man to put his shirt back on. Look at those lust handles!” Quinn pointed at the cut of his hips. “Well, I guess I don’t need to tell you.”

“If you’re not helping, you’re in the way,” Becca reminded her friend with a wicked grin. “Can you go grab Hot Dog from the back?”

When Quinn grudgingly returned with
the Dalmatian costume, she handed it off to Jax with a disclaimer. “I do this under extreme protest.”

“What?” Becca asked, striving for innocence. “Hot Dog is the FDNY mascot. He’s integral to fire safety education throughout the city. It’s perfect for Mr. October.”

Mr. November and Mr. December seemed to share her amusement, snickering at Jax’s predicament.

“Anything for the
FDNY.” Jax slipped into the costume without protest, owning it like he did everything else. It was like the man had an endless supply of confidence. “Besides, women love dogs. I’ll bet I get just as many likes as those studs over there.”

“Sure, as long as you remember not to hump their legs,” Becca returned, adjusting the lights. “Okay, let’s get a few shots of you by the truck.”

Much to her annoyance, he did everything she asked, no matter how ridiculous. And damn if he didn’t look good doing it, which Quinn was too happy to point out when she wasn’t complaining about what a mistake it was to cover up such a fine specimen. The only time her friend expressed favor was when he got down on all fours.

Finally, Becca gave up, opting for a few traditional shots in his
turnout gear. They all knew she wasn’t actually going to submit the pictures with Hot Dog anyway. At her direction, Jax grabbed an ax and swung it over his shoulder, looking hotter than hell in the process. With the smoke machine blowing and the light sheen of sweat he’d developed wearing the fur suit, he’d be melting hearts all over the city.

With one notable exception.

“Try not to
look so cocky,” she instructed, adjusting her lens as he posed, the sculpted muscles of his pecs and delts drawing her eye as he swung the ax.

“I’m a FDNY firefighter. It kind of comes with the territory.”

“Wow. That’s deep. Do you actually need a hose to put out fires?” she asked, dropping her camera. “Because from where I’m standing your ego looks big enough to smother any flame
it comes in contact with.”

He flexed and continued goading her. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“What cover?” She snorted. “You’re parading around here half naked like Chippendale’s finest.”

“Damn straight!” Quinn chimed in with a giggle.

Becca shot her a dark look.

“Just doing my duty.” Jax winked at her and climbed up the truck’s ladder. Strutting around bare-chested
and sweaty, he was to-die-for scrumptious against the backdrop of a flame wall. Talk about unfair. “Seriously, though. You do know this calendar is about more than twelve months of hot firefighters, right? The proceeds will fund fire education and safety programs, as well as provide assistance to families in need.”

Ignoring him, Becca snapped away on her camera. She just needed to get the
shot. No matter what she said or did, he was going to look good, and it was her reputation on the line. Why did the man have to be so damn sexy? Or self-assured, for that matter? He was infuriating. And of course the stupid camera loved him. As far as she could tell, Jax didn’t have a bad side. Which was ridiculous, because everyone had a bad side.

Everyone
.

Except Jax, apparently.

Her stomach growled, reminding her that she was starving. Exhausted, too. It had been a long day, and all she wanted to do was go home and take a long soak in the tub after eating the biggest, greasiest burger she could get her hands on. She’d grab takeout on the way home. Judging by her stained T-shirt, there was no way she could actually eat-in. Not unless she wanted to risk looking like
a vagrant, anyway. Maybe hunger was screwing with her judgment, too, because once again she was wrestling feelings of guilt over what she’d done to Jax. She had to give him credit, though. The man did not give up. Still, he was just the sort of here today, gone tomorrow guy she hated. Despite everything he’d done to convince her otherwise, she knew what kind of man he really was. Didn’t she?

…

Jax grabbed his carryout order and made the short drive back to the warehouse. He still wanted to talk to Becca, and if burgers couldn’t entice her to give him ten minutes of her time, nothing would. The woman was stubborn as hell. What she didn’t understand—yet—was that no matter what she did to put distance between them, he wouldn’t give up. It wasn’t in his nature. It was one of
the things that made him so good at his job. And with the fire blazing between them? It was just a matter of time until she came around.

The set was dark when he returned, and most of the crew had left. Quinn passed him on her way out the door, eyeing the carryout bag.

“Good luck.” She grinned, not the least bit sympathetic. “You’re going to need it.”

At least he hadn’t missed
Becca. That was a good start. Dropping the bag on the table, he went to work cleaning up some of her supplies. He knew better than to touch her equipment, but anything non-mechanical felt like fair game. Wherever she was, she’d be back eventually. He just hoped she’d bring her appetite.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, the heels of her boots clicking on the cement as she crossed
the open space, stopping when she reached the table. She sniffed the air. “What’s that smell?

“Burgers. I brought dinner. I thought we could talk.”

She eyed the Shake Shack carryout bag. “I’m not hungry.”

Her stomach growled.

“Liar.”

Crossing her arms, she tried another obvious lie. “Okay, fine. I’m hungry, but I have no interest in talking.”

“Suit yourself.
That just means there’s more for me.” He opened the bag and pulled out a burger. Tearing back the white wrapper, he took a big bite and groaned. “Now, this is a cheeseburger. They don’t make them like this in Boston. You sure you don’t want one?”

Sighing, Becca put her hand out for a burger. “Fine. But no talking. I’m too tired to think. It’s been a long day.”

He fished her burger
and two shakes from the bag, leaving the fries for last.

“When did you get into photography?” he asked, curious to know more about her passion. “I didn’t know you had an interest.”

She bit into the burger, chewing it thoroughly and taking her time to respond. “There are a lot of things you don’t know about me. Time and distance will do that.”

Walked right into that one, hadn’t
he? Perhaps he just hadn’t asked the right question. “Is it a hobby or is it something you aspire to do full-time?”

“I picked up my first camera at fifteen,” she said, staring at him pointedly. Meaning after he left town. Maybe something good had come of his departure after all—not that he’d be stupid enough to voice that thought. “Haven’t put it down since. I’ve got degrees in Communication
and in Fine Arts from Brooklyn College, but it’s much easier to find a desk job than it is to make it as a photojournalist.” She shrugged. “I’ll get there eventually. The calendar is a great stepping-stone to get my work out there. Until then, I’ll enjoy my time at Garden of Dreams and take freelance jobs when I can get them.”

“I’d love to take a look at your work sometime.” And he meant
it. Listening to her talk about her aspirations, he had no doubt Becca poured her heart and soul into her photography. Maybe it would give him a better understanding of the woman she’d become. Each moment he spent with her made it clear she’d grown to be a very different woman than the one he’d imagined, and as it turned out, he liked this one a hell of a lot better.

They finished their
sandwiches in silence, picking at the fries until they were cold and the shakes were gone. Jax collected the wrappers and stuffed them in the bag.

“Thanks for dinner.” Becca appraised him, perhaps surprised they’d been able to get through a meal—even a quick one—without the conversation disintegrating into World War III.

“You’re welcome. We should do it again sometime.” He grinned,
unable to resist busting her balls just a little. “I hear there’s a great place over in Chelsea that serves the best pie in Manhattan.”

She stuck her tongue out at him. “Smart-ass.”

“Give me your keys. I’ll carry this stuff out to your car while you finish packing up your camera,” he offered, grabbing the tower of boxes from the table.

He carried the boxes to her car, locking
them in the trunk before returning to find the warehouse empty. The camera bag was packed, but its owner was nowhere to be found.

“Becca?”

Where had she gone now? Night was falling fast, casting long shadows across the cement floor. It was creepy as hell. Time to find Becca and get out. He made his way back the hall she’d come from earlier, calling her name to avoid scaring the shit
out of her.

When he finally found her in a supply closet, she was bent over with her rear in the air, her dark leggings showcasing the perfection of her ass. Not quite what he was expecting, but damn if his cock didn’t swell at the sight. The mental picture of taking her from behind was front and center in his brain as he watched her, eyes glued to her backside.

“Stop staring at my
ass,” she said, twisting to confirm her suspicions, “and help me find my phone. I thought I left it on the shelf in here, but I can’t find it. Maybe it fell on the floor?”

She continued to rummage through the boxes and bins on the lower shelves, so he joined her, using his own phone to brighten the dim room as he looked under the rusty shelves. Crawling around in a dirty supply room wasn’t
exactly how he imagined spending an evening with the sexy woman beside him, but better him crawling around on the floor than her. Spotting a dark lump beneath the shelving unit, he reached under, hoping like hell he wasn’t about to catch a case of lockjaw for his trouble, and pulled out the phone.

“Got it.”

When he turned to stand, he found Becca right behind him. They collided, his
face going straight to her lady bits as her hands tangled in his hair, holding him tight.

They both froze.

The sexual tension in the room was so damn thick they’d need the Jaws of Life to cut through it.

Fuck it.

He gripped her ass, cupping those round cheeks and using them as leverage to pull her close. She remained silent, as if waiting to see what he’d do next. Keeping
their bodies flush, he climbed to his feet slowly, savoring the feel of her soft curves against his chest. Their eyes met, and damn if he didn’t want to lose himself in those dark depths. The way she was looking at him, like he was the answer to a prayer she’d never voiced aloud? It nearly stripped him of his restraint. A lesser part of his brain told him to take it slow—the last thing he wanted
to do was spook her—but he ignored it, letting instinct take over. Their attraction? It wasn’t cerebral. It was primal.

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned, making no move to separate their bodies, although they stood so close he could feel the rise and fall of her breasts with each breath.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You know
exactly
what I’m talking about.”
She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight. Was it wishful thinking or had she actually gotten closer? “Don’t be coy.”

“Are you seriously going to pretend you don’t feel that?” He smirked. “The sexual tension in this closet is so thick we’re both drowning in it.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Now who’s being coy? One word, Becca.” He paused. “
Yes
. That’s all you
have to say.”

Becca lifted her chin and licked her lips, leveling him with a look that said she was ready for the stare-down of the ages. Figured. No matter how bad they both wanted it, she’d dig in her heels just to spite him.

She was so damn sexy when she was being obstinate, which only reinforced the fact that he was going to need a cold shower when he got home.

A mischievous
smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, tempting him with every dark fantasy those lips had ever inspired.

“
Yes
.”

It was all the invitation he needed. Claiming her mouth with his own, he lavished kisses upon those full lips, tracing her mouth with his tongue and slipping past the entrance to explore her more fully. She moaned quietly, her body melting against him as she began to tease
him with short strokes of her tongue. Like before, that small spark of passion burned hot, growing exponentially as she raked her fingers through his hair and over the muscles of his shoulders.

It wasn’t enough. With Becca, he wondered if it would ever be enough.

Hell, they didn’t need words. Just touch. As long as they could explore one another and lose themselves in the moment, it
would be enough.

Spinning her around, he pressed her back to the metal rack, sending odds and ends clattering to the floor. Ignoring the mess, he slid his hands up her back, holding her tight as he worked his way down her chin and along the curve of her neck, licking and sucking and memorizing her heavenly taste. Despite the long day on the set and the smudges of oil and dirt and soot on
her clothes, her skin remained just as he remembered, sweet and tantalizing, like a drug.