Vital Signs (12 page)

She came apart in his hold. His name on her lips, his cock spurting for long minutes into her tight sheath.

Reaching back, she clamped her hand around his thigh, drawing him tight to her. Carefully, he lowered them both to the mattress, his eyes shut and his nose in her hair. She breathed hard. For several minutes they lay this way before he sensed her discomfort.

Holding the base of the condom, he left her body. Before his head hit the pillow, she was curled into his hold, her fingers twined in the sparse hair on his chest. “I’ve never had an anal orgasm,” she said quietly.

His smile was unstoppable. Strands of her hair caught in the stubble on his jaw. “You belong to me, and so do your orgasms.”

Her skin pebbled in goose bumps, which only sent him deeper into that headspace with her. The place where only they existed and he couldn’t get enough of her. He had a feeling she felt the same.

She threw her leg over his thighs. “It was my first time…there.”

“Mine too.”

She tipped her head to look at him. Dammit, he liked that possessive look in her eyes too. All around this was bad timing but what could he do? Fighting it was like swimming up a waterfall. He was helpless against her charms.

Molding her to fit his body, he said, “I’ve never asked someone to give herself to me that way, Sarita.”

She held her breath and it was so long before she released it that he wondered if he’d need to perform rescue breathing. “Corey, I think there’s something between us.”

He didn’t like the hesitation in her words. Not when he felt none whatsoever. “Damn right there is.”

She twisted to press a kiss to his pec. “What did you find out about the voicemail?”

He was quite aware of her changing the subject but he’d let it ride—for now. “I was hoping you’d have some insights for me.”

She shook her head. “I couldn’t understand any of it. At one point I thought she’d said ‘house,’ but I’m not sure.”

“Humph. That’s disappointing. I was hoping it was just my ears going bad or the extra noise in the truck.”

She leaned onto one elbow. “Oh that reminds me. Why were you on a call anyway?”

He almost laughed at the stern look she couldn’t quite master. “When I got to the station, the alarms were sounding and they yelled at me to get suited up. I guess several guys are out with a stomach flu and they were shorthanded.”

She wrinkled her nose. “I suppose you were fine, but I wish you’d waited.”

“No going back now.” He meant it for her as much as his job status. He wasn’t going to let her go now that she’d given herself to him in every way. By dawn he’d have her in all the positions he could think of and on most of the surfaces in her apartment.

“I still want to bandage that cut.”

“Not if I won’t let you up.” He rolled on top of her, pinned her hands at her sides, and dived between her thighs. Tasting her need and letting her ride his tongue to the next wave of ecstasy.

As soon as Sarita’s gaze fell on the sandy beaches leading up to steep cliffs and the waves crashing on the shore, she pressed a hand to her lips. “I can’t believe it’s so beautiful.”

Corey spun his arm around her middle and nuzzled her ear. “Is it different from your homeland, then?”

She nodded, unable to form words. So different yet no less breathtaking. As she inhaled the briny air and feasted her eyes on the wheeling gulls, she felt her soul expand.

Twisting in Corey’s hold, she met the other thing that made her soul overflow with happiness. “Thank you for bringing me.”

His crooked smile was all the answer she needed, but he lowered his lips to hers. The gentle brushing of mouths was too quick. “You deserve to see it every day. Come on. If I remember right, there’s a small cove over here to sit out of the wind.”

As she followed, her hand in his, a thought popped into her head. Had he brought his ex-fiancée here? She wasn’t really a jealous woman, but she’d like to know everything about his past. She’d gladly tell hers, though there weren’t strings of serious relationships.

When they rounded a cliff face, sure enough, the rock formed a small V where people obviously sheltered. The traces of a bonfire lingered on the sands, and there were a few scraps of litter. She’d pick those up before she left.

Corey tugged her hand. “Sit. We’ll have our picnic here.” On his back he’d slung a pack filled with mysterious things. No matter how many times she’d offered to make the lunch for them, he’d insisted he’d do it.

She sank to the sand and crossed her legs. “I can’t wait to see what you’ve brought.”

He flashed a grin, and she didn’t know what to stare at first—his rare grin or her first view of the ocean. She swung her attention between both but finally settled on Corey. He handed her a wrapped package and set one in his lap. Then he removed two bottles of beer from his sack, followed by some small containers that could only hold pie.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “That’s dessert. After the other dessert.”

“Other dessert?”

“You’re the other dessert.” He swiped his tongue across his lower lip as if tasting her juices there. A pang of need struck her, and she wiggled on the sand to ease the throb that began.

“Can’t that be the main course?”

He chuckled. “I think we’d better eat before these sandwiches aren’t fit for consumption.”

Nodding, she unwrapped hers to find a thick slab of grilled bread with juicy steak flecked with spices and onions and peppers. Cheese bubbled over. “Mmm. I’ve never had one of these, but I’ve heard about them.” She lifted it to her mouth and took a bite.

When she groaned around the flavors bursting on her tongue, he gave one of his own. Except he wasn’t eating. He was watching hers. “You’re making me wish I’d suggested the dessert first, angel.”

A shiver ran through her that had nothing to do with the breeze coming off the ocean. Where they sat it was toasty, and she’d worn a sweater just in case. It wasn’t the warmest of days.

“It’s very good,” she said around a mouthful.

He took a huge bite and they ate in silence for several seconds. After twisting off the cap of her beer, he handed it to her. She raised it to her lips and took a tentative sip. She wasn’t really a drinker, and American beer was strange to her. But it was surprisingly light and somehow fruity.

He watched her closely, as if he’d just given her a surprise like a little boy giving a handmade gift. “Do you like it?”

“Yes, I do,” she said honestly.

He resumed eating, his posture relaxed. “Good. I wasn’t sure. You seem so easygoing, though, I took a chance.”

“I don’t come from much so I’m easily satisfied, and I always appreciate gestures like this.” She started eating again but realized he wasn’t. “What is it, Corey?”

He shot her a long look she felt to the soles of her feet. “You’re really different, Sarita.”

“Different how?”

“The things you appreciate aren’t what a lot of women do.”

“Are you talking about some exes?” Her stomach fluttered, but she had to know.

He gave a short nod. “Years ago all my friends were getting married and having families. I wanted that too. I looked hard and thought I’d found somebody. But it turned out she wanted a life I wasn’t going to provide. You can’t afford designer gifts on a firefighter’s income. And she was just waiting for me to quit my job and find a ‘real’ career.”

Sarita blinked. “Did she not see how noble your profession is? Did she prefer a man who sits in an office?”

Corey’s mouth crinkled in thought. “I never thought about it that way, but yeah, I guess so. She didn’t like the hours I kept. Long shifts and overtime.”

“You’ll never hear me complain about it. Even if I didn’t understand, which I do because I work similar hours, I find it so amazing that you put your life on the line to protect people.”

“That’s what makes you so perfect, angel.” Their gazes locked, showing the promise of dessert. “Now finish your lunch so I can get to the main course.” He dropped her a slow wink that set her panties ablaze.

She didn’t take her time savoring the meal but when he laid her back on the sand and slowly began to strip her, she couldn’t think of a better moment in her life.

»»•««

Corey rubbed his fingers together, trying to dispel the feel of Sarita. She popped into his head at the most inopportune times, and this was one of them.

He dropped his hand to his side and watched Chief’s face as he listened to the voicemail. They were all at a loss—the words were too jumbled.

Chief pushed out a breath, his bushy brows lowering to meet over his nose. “I can’t hear it either. There’s background noise.”

“I know. It sounds metallic, like something clinking off a pipe.”

“Right. Have you tried calling the number back?”

“Several times.” Corey leaned against the corner of the desk. “It just rings.”

Chief pushed out a breath. “And my buddy says the phone isn’t registered to anybody. It’s a Trac phone. I think maybe you’d better make another trip over to the Allancamps’, but don’t go until I give the go ahead. Forensics has the voicemail clip and they should have some conclusive report for us this afternoon.”

Pushing off the desk, Corey gave a nod and retrieved his phone. As he slid it into his pocket, a crash reverberated through the station. Chief leaped up and in a flash he and Corey were out of the office. Following the shouts and an undeniable hiss of water, they arrived at the second floor showers.

Several guys stood around, watching water spray down the walls like kids mesmerized by an opened hydrant. Gabriel and Joey seemed to be at the center of this—hips swathed in towels and Joey sporting a red face. One of the old porcelain sinks lay on the floor—the busted pipes the source of the water spray.

Corey wondered exactly what the lovers had been doing to rip a sink off the wall, and then he realized that sink had been barely hanging on to begin with. They all avoided using it.

“Someone shut off the valve,” Chief barked.

“Dirty D’s getting it,” Gabriel said. “I’m going to grab my clothes.” He strode into the locker room with Joey a few steps behind. The tips of his ears were still red, but so was a splotch on his neck that looked a little like a sucker bite.

Smirking to himself, Corey surveyed the mess. “Shutting off the water source means we don’t have sinks up here.”

“Yeah, well, you’re going to have to use the one downstairs,” Chief said.

“But that toilet’s broken. Should we use the facilities upstairs and run down to wash our hands?” Corey asked.

Chief grunted. “Dammit, this place is falling apart. Maybe we should stop bothering with these fundraisers and just concentrate on finding jobs with new firehouses so we’ll be ready once they close this one.”

Corey’s stomach burned. “What’s the latest fundraiser? Maybe I can rally some more support. Make a few calls to the papers or something.”

“Firemen calendar.” Chief ran his gaze over Corey. “Welcome to the shoot, Mr. March.”

He recoiled. “What? You’re not serious.”

“Dead serious,” Jagger said from behind them. “It was Hanna’s idea, and I think it’s a great one. Hell, she has a whole office full of women who have preordered the calendar.”

“There are more than enough guys at East Street to make up twelve months without me being in it,” Corey protested.

“Yeah, but some have their reasons for not joining in. Myself included…” Chief smoothed his hand over the slight distention in his stomach. Sitting behind a desk more than he was in the field meant he didn’t get as much exercise as he used to. “Women will go ga-ga over you, Corey. Welcome aboard. Photographer is here tomorrow.”

“Shit, you’re not going to let me out of this, are you?”

Chief smiled. “Not a chance.”

“I’m too old for this crap. Who wants a Mr. March with all this gray?” He forked his fingers through his hair.

“It seems the young women still find you attractive. Sarita doesn’t seem to complain,” Jagger teased.

He glared but kept his mouth shut. There didn’t seem to be anything left to say. As if he needed another thing on his plate, though. Between finding the arsonist, his regular day job, and supporting his station by letting somebody photograph his bod, he had more than enough to do.

Not to mention Sarita. He couldn’t bear to go a day without seeing her now. After that trip to the shore, he felt closer to her than ever.

Chief was staring at his phone. A strange look crossed his face, and he held it out to Corey. Heart thumping, he took it and stared at the screen. The forensics results.

The noise is a pipe being struck. And chimes at twelve and thirteen seconds of the clip traced to Our Holy Lady’s Church.

His mind launched forward. The Allancamps’ place was a few blocks from Our Holy Lady. That meant the caller
had
actually been Mrs. Allancamp.

Or Mitchell.

And a pipe… Where? The Allancamps’ home had been ramshackle at best, but he hadn’t seen any exposed pipes that would have made such a noise. Unless…

He met Chief’s stare. The basement.

“I’m going now.” Corey headed straight for the fireman’s pole. In seconds he was on the ground level and hurrying to his vehicle. Questions continued to flood his mind.

He was on the verge of discovering the arsonist’s identity—he could feel it. Investigators had spent months trying to get as far as he had. But the difference was he’d looked in less obvious places. Rather than searching a database of criminals in the area, he’d looked to humanity.

He just hoped his instincts were right.

Clouds had rolled in and a fog blanketed the city. Not unusual for this area of California but damned inconvenient. Traffic crawled and he swore pedestrians lost all common sense, darting out at the last minute and jeopardizing their lives. Reaching the Allancamps’ home would take longer than usual.

He slid behind the wheel and ran his fingers through his hair. Sarita weighed on his mind. She’d give him hell for going alone to the Allancamps’ place, especially when Mrs. Allancamp might have told her son somebody was looking for him. If Mitchell were the arsonist, he’d be wary of anybody asking about him or his whereabouts. And they already knew this person was dangerous.