From The Inferno (Firemen Do It Better Book 3) Read online

  “Hmmm, sounds good. You pick the movie this time,” he said, but neither of us moved. I didn’t move my hand, and he didn’t move his lips. Instead, he peppered small kisses all over it, making me fall faster and faster into his sweetness.

  10

  The movie Jamie chose wasn’t exactly the quiet kind. Autobots and Decepticons, shooting and blowing up did not make for a romantic setting.

  However, the way Jamie cuddled into me like she belonged did.

  “Transformers, hey?” I said with a laugh. I had one arm around her shoulder, hugging her close, my hand stroking through her soft hair. My other hand joined with hers and rested on my thigh. I was the most comfortable I had ever been in my life. Even after the horror of the night, the fire, and Knox dying, I ashamedly felt content.

  Not since before I lost Prue had I been this happy, and I liked it. I liked Jamie, and I really liked the little sighs coming from her every time my fingers made contact with her scalp.

  “One of the guys on the circuit was a huge fan. He let me watch them with him occasionally during our rare downtime,” she told me sleepily.

  The tug of jealousy I felt when she mentioned another man surprised me. I was not a jealous person by nature, not even when Melly and I split up, and she started dating again, but hearing Jamie talking about watching this movie with someone other than me, yeah, that pissed me off.

  “Did you get much time to yourself?” I asked her, choosing to push my alpha side to the back burner—for now.

  Jamie shook her head against my chest. “Not really. When I wasn’t playing or training, I was travelling. And then there were the constant press engagements and sponsor events I was forced to attend. Most of the time, I felt more like a piece of property than a tennis player,” she said against me, her warm breath and soft lips teasing the skin covered by my shirt.

  “How so?” I asked, genuinely interested. I wanted to know more about her, as much as she would allow. Plus, it was keeping my mind off the slow circle of patterns she was tracing on my lower abs with her free hand. Since we got settled and she relaxed in my arms, her fingers had found their way to my stomach, tormenting me with their softness. Every now and then, she would dip below the hem of my shirt and find my bare skin. The excruciating softness of her skin against mine was sending sparks of desire to my cock.

  Up until now, I’d managed to keep him under control, somewhat, but the more she made contact with my belly, and her lips moved against my chest when she spoke, the closer I was to losing the battle.

  “Well, see—” Jamie made to sit up, and her arm brushed over my zipper. The action was innocent, but my reaction was anything but.

  Curiously, I watched Jamie’s reaction as she looked down at the growing bulge in my sweatpants. We had already shared a few kisses and some light touching on the face and hands, but we were yet to jump the imaginary line.

  The deep pink blush that stained her cheeks enamoured me to her more, but it was the heated desire that hooded her eyes that thrilled me.

  She wanted me, and I really fucking wanted her. I wanted to touch her everywhere, spread her out naked on my bed, and explore every sweet inch of her perfectly toned body with my mouth. To know what her heat felt like wrapped around my throbbing cock, to feel her wetness coat me when she came, screaming out my name.

  The more the sexy images danced behind my eyes, the harder I got. I couldn’t help it. Jamie was the one. Her secrets didn’t matter, and her reasons for running could whistle Dixie for all I cared. Her trust in me would come as our relationship progressed. She had already told me enough for me to know I could trust her.

  That realisation that this was more than sex hit me like a sledgehammer. I wanted to grow old with her, have kids, and a life with her. There was no one else I wanted to take that journey with, fucking no one.

  Adjusting our positions, I moved her to my lap so she was straddling my thighs, her sexy, toned legs on either side of mine. Her gasp of surprise had nothing to do with my sudden movement and more to do with my hard cock pressed against her centre—I hoped.

  “I want to kiss you, legs, and not small sweet kisses. I need to have your taste on my tongue, my lips. Sear it there so when I am not with you, all I can do is taste your sweetness.” I held her face in my hands, and my eyes never left hers as I told her what I craved from her.

  “I know you’re not experienced, and quite frankly, I like that. I like that no other man has known how perfect you are, how precious your heart is—”

  Without letting me finish, Jamie slammed her lips down on mine. A low moan erupted from me as unskilled lips slanted across mine, and the tentative swipes of her tongue sent shivers through my body. Skilled or not, I loved her aggression and passion for me.

  Wrapping my arms around her, I brought her down harder on my lap and lifted my mouth slightly from hers. “Let me show you, baby,” I whispered.

  Her panting mixed with mine as she nodded her head, and another blush crept over her face.

  “I’m sorry I haven’t done this before,” she apologised, suddenly shy.

  “No, baby, don’t be sorry. Let’s just go a bit slower, okay.”

  I nipped at the corner of her mouth and trailed small nibbling kisses down her jawline, the softness of her skin a stark contrast to my stubbled face. She was going to have whisker burn by the end of the night, a mark I was only too pleased to leave on her.

  With every pass over her jaw and throat, Jamie moaned, and her hands speared through my short hair, guiding me to where she wanted my kisses.

  “Oh, Chase, that feels so good.” She moaned, her head leaning forward so she could start a little kissing game of her own. Her lips found the shell of my ear, and without knowing what she was unleashing, her tongue flicked my lobe, sending rockets of desire right to where I was already overloaded with sensation.

  All the while, her athletic body writhed and ground down on my hard-on, her movements becoming more and more erratic with each passing second.

  “Chase, kiss me,” she begged from above me, her face now pressed against the top of my head, her hands holding both of us together.

  Growling, I pulled back from her delicate skin where I’d just left a hickey, another mark to show who she belonged to.

  Spurred on by her moans and soft pleading, I whipped her off my lap and pressed her back against the couch. My body fell over her, and her legs automatically spread to accommodate my big frame. Settling between her long legs, I went back to feasting on her delicious lips. My arms pushed under hers, and I placed my hands on either side of her face, holding her as close to me as I could get her fully clothed. Tonight, our clothes were staying on as hard as it was going to be not to strip her body bare and sink slowly into her pussy. Tonight was for her to get used to us, and what I wanted from her. There was still time for her to find out just how demanding I was when it came to what I wanted and how I wanted it.

  My sexual proclivities strayed to a more dominating style, so to make out on a couch in front of the TV was a first for me. Something about Jamie made me pause and let her take the reins to show me see what she desired, what made her burn.

  The way she writhed and moaned gave me a pretty good indication she liked kissing.

  I could seriously kiss her all night and be satisfied, and the longer we kissed, the more confident she became. Her hands travelled all over my back under my shirt, and her nails digging into my skin silently begged me to take it off.

  “Legs, you aren’t ready for that yet,” I growled against her lips, fighting the war going on between my cock and my brain.

  “Please, honey, I need…” Jamie stared at me through eyes dark and hooded with desire. Her teeth held her bottom lip captive as she tried to reach what her body had no idea it was aiming for.

  Grinding my pelvis against her mound, I gritted my teeth in an effort to control my impending orgasm.

  “How’s that, baby? Is this what you need?” Again, I thrust my hips into hers, humping her through o
ur clothes and driving both of us to the end goal. To come and come hard.

  “Yes, yes, yes,” she cried under me. Her hips lifted off the couch and pressed against my groin.

  Blood pounded in my ears, the keen cries of her impending climax nearly my undoing. I watched mesmerised as her irises grew large and black then rolled back in her head. A triumphant cry of my name left her lips as she pushed her mound hard against me one last time as she came for what I would stake my life on was her first orgasm.

  “Oh, god. Yessssss.” I groaned, throwing my head back and welcoming the euphoric tingling in my spine that heralded my own orgasm.

  In my pants, on my couch, dry humping like a randy teenager.

  “I’m keeping you,” I whispered out of breath.

  “Groovy,” Jamie sassed back at me, making me laugh. But it was the wobble in her voice and the tremble in her hands on my face that told me she was mine and liked that she was.

  I sat back in the saddle and let the natural movement of the horse rock me.

  Normally, I enjoyed my early morning rides, the quiet of the dawn tending to soothe me before I started a shift, or when I got off one.

  I looked over the paddock to the house with one small lit up window—one of the reasons for my unease.

  Two days ago, after Jamie and I made out, and I came in my pants like a seventeen-year-old, Jamie spent the night in Prue’s room again. Then the next morning, she moved over to her house for the first time since we moved her in.

  I did not like her being over there. I wanted her with me, in my bed.

  Her need to be independent after years of being controlled was admirable, and honestly, I felt nothing but pride in her determination to carve out a life for herself. My only problem was I was having a hard time not feeling a little pushed aside.

  Of course, it was stupid to have such selfish thoughts. Her whole life before she arrived here in town had been scheduled down to the last minute, everything from sleep to dinner menus. To see her get giddy and excited over a cup of hot chocolate stuffed to the brim with marshmallows was a sight to behold. I was glad she was happy. I just wished she could enjoy those things here at my place.

  The other reason I was pissed off was the fire that took the life of Knox. Forgetting the idiocy of the recruit for putting himself, and in turn Hoove and I, in danger, there were whispers that the fire a few nights ago and the previous one had been deliberately lit. If the department found any evidence suggesting the rumours were true, then we had a serial arsonist on our hands.

  Moving my focus from the window and the fact that Jamie slept with a lamp on beside her bed, I went back to thinking about Knox. His family wanted to plan his funeral and to lay him to rest. They could not do that yet because the coroner still hadn’t finished with the inquest into his death. No one could say how he got into the building or why. The ladder guys swore black and blue he didn’t get up there by their ladder. So if he didn’t get access to the second floor that way, how the hell did he?

  Nothing made sense, not his death and not the ferocity of the fire. The building had been vacant, totally cleaned bare of anything even remotely flammable other than the wood in the building itself.

  All of us attending the fire smelled chemicals, and thick, black, toxic fumes filled the area so quickly that a few of us had been affected by them, so much so that we were sent off to the hospital for treatment.

  All of this added up to— My mind would work so much better if I woke up cuddled next to Jamie after a night of kissing and maybe some under-the-clothes foreplay.

  Shifting uncomfortably in the saddle, I willed my cock to give me a break. The greedy bastard was in a permanent state of arousal now, and all he wanted was Jamie. He didn’t give two shits that I was trying to give her the room to get used to me and being my girlfriend.

  All I knew was that once she gave me the green light, she wasn’t going to get out of my bed for at least seventy-two hours. Under me, on top of me, or in front of me on her knees, all positions were on my to-do list.

  “Fuck.” I groaned, palming my poor cock. “Okay, Nozzle, let’s get back to the stables. I need to have a cold shower before I take off for work,” I said to my horse. The big, black gelding neighed his disapproval of me cutting our ride short. Or it could be because he hated his name. Hoove came up with it and bet me five hundred bucks I wouldn’t keep using it.

  It was the easiest money I ever made. Hoove was a big one for making and accepting stupid bets, but he didn’t take up the last one. Tate put her foot down to him getting his hair shaved off and fire and flames tattooed on his scalp. Man, it would have been worth five hundred dollars to see the big guy go through with that.

  Heading back to the stables, I went about unsaddling Nozzle and brushing him down. I added an extra bucket of oats to his feed bag as an apology for the short ride, then walked out into the early morning light, my dogs not far behind me.

  “Watch out for Jamie today, boys. Keep her safe,” I said to the huge dogs as I went to my car, forgoing the shower. I knew I would only rub one out in the shower, and I didn’t want anything except Jamie making me come ever again.

  11

  I smiled at the two large dogs that were currently sitting on my front porch. Neither of them moved when I opened the door, so I had to navigate my way over their massive bodies, doing my best to avoid the puddles of doggy drool.

  “Your daddy put you up to this, didn’t he?” I asked the two hairy beasts. It surprised me that I was no longer scared of the dogs, not as I had been when I first met them. Since I’d spent most of my life in hotels and on tennis courts, I never had a dog or a cat for that matter. There had been no time, nor would my parents have helped me look after a pet. Their Sydney home consisted of white carpet, white walls, white leather furniture, and lots of glass windows. None of that bode well for a pet in my life.

  “See ya later, fellas. Behave yourselves,” I called out to them and jumped into my car. It was still the same crappy and falling apart car, but thanks to Hoove, Carson, and Chase, it had new tyres, an oil change, and a tune-up of the engine. Yesterday, they took it to the station to use the hydraulic car hoist. I tried to give them money for doing the work, but all they would accept was money for the tyres and supplies. And even then, it hadn’t been much because they’d used their discounts as firemen around the town to get better prices for me.

  After they finished with it, the car went better than it ever had since I bought it.

  I carefully pulled out onto the road and drove slowly past Chase’s house. I loved the Australian farmhouse he lived in. It had a hipped roof, and a deep wraparound verandah surrounded the whole place. The colours Chase chose to paint it were traditional yellow for the weatherboards and green for the trim. A small easy-to-look-after rose garden sat on either side of the front path—simple style for a simple man.

  But when it came to his sheds, Chase let his typical Aussie male characteristics shine through. So far, I had only seen three of them, the ones he used for his animals and their feed. I was yet to tour his tool shed—which, according to him, was substantial— his man cave, and car sheds. Yep, I said sheds. Apparently, my Chase liked old cars and motorcycles. The Trans Am he drove was a beauty, all glossy black with a throaty engine, and it even had the gold eagle on the bonnet. I may not have known who Josh Duhamel was until recently, but I did know Burt Reynolds. The movies he drove the black muscle car in were some of my favourites.

  The drive to the café didn’t take long. The traffic this morning was light considering I had to drive through a major school zone. I liked the suburb I found myself in, the quiet streets and the cluster of shops where the café was, and I liked that no one recognised me when they came in to eat their breakfast or buy their lunch. So far, Jamie Barstowe with an e was just a plain nobody. Well, not quite. She was the girlfriend of a hot fireman who had a very talented mouth and a sweet, caring, and protective nature.

  “Hey, Tate. It’s nice to see you. Are you wanting a t
able?” I greeted the pretty redhead. I liked Tate a lot. Her story was a sad one, but not all of it. She had an amazing hot husband who adored her to the point of distraction, and she was a wickedly talented jewellery designer and maker. The sad part was the tragic accident that took the life of her unborn child and scarred her for life, in more ways than one. I cried when she told me the horrible tale, cried for her loss and the injustice of it all. But she shocked me with her upbeat attitude and acceptance that she couldn’t bear her own child. Instead, she would have to depend on surrogacy.

  “Hello, Jamie. Yes, please. Hoove ate all the bread in the house when he decided he needed ten pieces of toast at four in the morning,” she replied dryly, making me giggle.

  “I noticed at Chase’s the other day that he has a voracious appetite,” I said, giving her a saucy wink, not just referring to the abundance of sausages and chops he consumed but to the way he kept returning to Tate every hour to lay a passionate kiss on his wife.

  Tate blushed, but it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was more like she was remembering something. Like maybe she was reliving what Dylan did to her before he ate the ten pieces of toast.

  “Hey, Tate. Did Hoove eat you out of house and home again?” Lake said jovially from the front counter, saving my thoughts from going where they had no business going. I, of course, blamed Chase and his chivalrous decision to take things slow between us.

  I accepted that I was still a virgin, again his fault, and I even understood that he wanted me to understand that to him, it was more than just a physical attraction between us, which I appreciated. But he was driving me crazy with the passionate make-out sessions on his couch. The first one, when he gave me the very first orgasm of my life, had been spectacular. The second, when he opened the buttons on my shirt and kissed the tops of my breasts over my bra, was heavenly. The third one last night, when he removed his shirt, pushed my tee up, and finally had some skin to skin contact, pushed me to my breaking point.