Nursing the Flame, page 10
Her chest rose as she sucked in a quick breath. Beneath the lace, her nipple puckered, and she lowered her hands to grip his shoulders.
“Good girl,” he murmured.
The urge to hone in on her nipple, pinch the tip, was instinctual. But he forced himself to avoid it for the moment. To go slow and make her ache for it. To build this moment up.
He traced the side of her breast and moved inward, stopping just before the taut tip. Then he began a slow circle of it, watching as her nipple tightened further and strained against the lace.
His blood pumped quicker at the sight. He wasn’t the only one affected. Her breathing grew uneven, and her nails dug into his bare shoulders.
He lifted his gaze to hers. Her hooded eyes were heavy with need, her bottom lip caught between her teeth.
But she didn’t say a word. Didn’t plead for more or tell him to stop.
He kept his fingers on the side of her breast and then moved the palm of his hand inward until he cupped her fully.
She let out a quiet sigh.
Still holding her gaze, he swiped his thumb up over one stiff peak.
A small hint of a whimper spilled past her lips.
God, he loved that she was so responsive.
He caught her lace-covered nipple between his thumb and forefinger and squeezed.
A tremble wracked her body as her breath hissed past her lips.
He tightened the pressure on her nipple, drawing a low moan from her. Her hips arched and his gaze swept down, just in time to see her squeeze her thighs together.
Oh yeah. If he dipped his hands into those pants and past her panties, he was sure he’d find her wet.
Slow down.
Using the hand on her lower back, he eased it up her soft skin to the clasp of her bra. With a couple of flicks and pulls, he had it unfastened.
He moved his fingers and caught the bottom of the lace bra, tugging the wired lace up and off her breasts. The straps loosened enough so that one quick tug had her breasts spilling free.
She shrugged her shoulders and lifted her hands from his shoulder, aiding him in his efforts to remove it completely.
He tossed the lace to the side and then turned his attention to the sight before him.
His heart seemed to stop, and he couldn’t breathe for a moment. He could only stare at the pale, sloped breasts with hard, rosy tips.
“Amber,” he whispered. “You are beautiful.”
And so sexy.
For the rest of his life, he would remember her like this. Every day at the station, he’d mentally be thinking of her gorgeous breasts that hid beneath the station shirt.
And that he was the only one who’d seen them.
He reached up with both hands to cup each breast. Lord, she was so soft—half-filling his large hands.
In a deft move, he flicked his thumbs upward and over the taut nipples.
Her hips bumped forward again, and she drew in a sharp breath.
No longer able to resist the temptation literally in front of his face, Reggie leaned forward and drew one hard tip into his mouth.
She cried out sharply, her nails digging into his shoulders. Her back arched, and he slid a hand around to pull her closer. Held her still when she squirmed in pleasure.
The texture and the taste of her skin went straight to his head.
Broken leg be damned.
Within a week, maybe even by morning, he would know what every part of Amber tasted like and felt like on his tongue.
*
This was really happening.
Amber stared through barely open eyes at Reggie’s dark head that nuzzled against her breasts.
He continued to torment her, sucking one nipple and then the other. Pleasure left her weak and needy.
When he made a hiss of almost pain, alarmed it might be his leg, she started to pull away.
His hand on her lower back stopped her retreat.
“You’ve got some claws, Amber.” He glanced up and gave her a reproachful look before biting the tip of one breast just enough to make her gasp.
Claws.
Her gaze slid to his shoulders, where her nails had left crescent marks in his dark skin.
For some weird reason, the idea of marking him like this sent a mix of pride and guilt through her.
She released his shoulders and moved her hands up to cup his shaved head, holding him against her breast.
“Do that again,” she whispered.
He knew exactly what she wanted and gently bit on the twin nipple, tugging slightly.
The pleasure mixed with a hint of discomfort, and it was everything she wanted at this moment. When it became almost too intense, he returned to sucking. Slow and sweet, licking the tip and sucking again.
The need inside her grew and she clenched her thighs together, trying to ease it.
He released one of her breasts and disappointment pricked until his fingers trailed down her belly to the waistband of her sweats.
There was a second of hesitation before he slid beneath the elastic and into her panties.
Her breath locked and she froze as he brushed the cleft of her sex.
“Reggie,” she whispered.
He lifted his head from her breast to meet her gaze, just before sliding a finger inside her.
A guttural groan ripped from both of them.
“I knew you’d be wet,” he muttered, sliding up to rub her clit.
Her breathing grew more ragged, the need inside her rising higher.
How long had she wanted this? Had many times had she fantasized about getting it on with Reggie?
And now it was happening. Her pleasure was now at his fingertips. Literally.
She moved her hips against his knowing touch, gripping his head as he resumed sucking her nipples while still stroking her.
She couldn’t control the moans that spilled from her lips or the pleas she was pretty sure she was babbling.
Selfish.
That’s what she was. Riding his hand and taking pleasure while knowing this couldn’t end in actual sex. Even with creative positions, it was too soon for him with his broken leg.
Still, she was too far gone for guilt or regret. Not now. Now it was all that sprint toward the ultimate pleasure.
Plus, he’d started this.
He added a second finger inside her, pushing deep while rubbing hard on her clit. The pleasure peaked—hurling her over that cliff and toward release.
She threw her head back and screamed, rocking against him. Trying to breathe as the world spun around her.
The reminder that she had to be careful of his leg just barely clung to her mind and she stayed in her safe area.
When the last wave of pleasure swept over her, her legs buckled, and she sank to her knees.
They were almost face-to-face now, and she reached out blindly to cradle his cheeks, smoothing her fingers down over the stubble there.
Her mouth closed over his and she kissed him, stroking her tongue and thanking him in a way she knew wouldn’t cause him any discomfort.
He grasped her ponytail, holding her still as he returned the sensual assault.
Then he pulled away with a hiss of pain.
“Amber . . .”
“Oh god.” She opened her eyes and stared at him, the guilt finally coming. “I’ve hurt your leg.”
“It’s a little sore, but this is making it worse.”
He gestured to his dick, which was rock hard and standing at attention. The towel dangled over it like a tablecloth now.
Her pulse quickened at the sight, and her mouth watered. “Maybe I can help you?”
She went to touch him, but he caught her wrist, his expression pained.
“No, that was all for you.”
She flushed with remorse. “Damn, Reggie. I’ll take that award for an inconsiderate bitch getting her own rocks off. I’m so sorry.”
“No.” He caught her chin in his hand. “You’re a sexy woman who I can’t keep my hands off of. And I only hope it didn’t feel like a mammogram when I touched you.”
She burst out laughing. He’d really been paying attention to that line she’d thrown out about Rob.
“Oh, Reggie, if mammograms felt like that, women would be lined up to get them daily.”
“Good. I’d love to try that again later, but for now”—he touched her lower lip—“I need you to do something for me.”
“Of course.”
He grimaced. “Turn the shower back on, but cold water this time.”
Her smile faded and the guilt returned. God, she wished she could help ease his discomfort in another way.
But he was being smart, so she nodded and rose to turn the water back on. Once she found a cool temperature, she handed him the showerhead and stepped out of the stall.
“Can you grab me a pair of boxers from my room and then give me a few minutes?” His gaze didn’t meet hers as he started spraying.
With a quick nod, she grabbed her shirt and bra and slipped out of the bathroom. It was the least she could do.
The mirror in the hallway showed her eyes bright and glittery and her cheeks flushed. She went to put her bra on and winced at how sensitive her nipples still were.
The memory of his mouth on her breast sent her stomach fluttering again.
She pulled her shirt on next and then went to his bedroom to find the boxers. She found his underwear drawer on the second guess and pulled out a navy-blue pair of boxers with little dogs all over them.
Aww. So sweet.
A smile tugged at her lips as she made her way back to outside the bathroom and waited.
She started to think about the orgasm he’d just given her, and remorse seeped in. She really was selfish. She owed him an apology, at the very least.
It was probably another five minutes before the water turned off and he called out to her.
Amber slipped back inside and blurted, “I promise I didn’t come over to take advantage of you like this.”
*
Reggie adjusted the towel that was once again covering his lap and arched a brow.
He’d managed to turn the water off, but the showerhead rested on the bottom of the shower now since he couldn’t reach it.
As she moved past him to rehang it up, he murmured, “I never thought you did. That’d be weird.”
She laughed and shook her head.
“Besides, I’m the one who told you to take your shirt off.”
And truth be told, it kind of sucked that it was back on. Staring at her breasts had been an excellent diversion from the pain.
“I know. You have a point there.” She grimaced. “But I should’ve been like nah, Reg. You’re healing.”
He laughed. “Stop. I’ll take the blame for what happened.”
She seemed to hesitate. “Do you regret it?”
His gaze slid to hers, and despite the pinch of guilt that he’d crossed that friendship line and there was no going back, he couldn’t regret it. It had been far too amazing. Overdue.
“No way.”
“Good.”
“Now.” He gestured to the counter. “Would you mind handing me my glasses?”
“Of course.” She turned to retrieve them, then gave him a curious look. “Did you ever consider laser eye surgery? With the whole firefighting thing?”
He grimaced. “I did, but the idea of a laser on my eyeball was a big ‘hell, no.’”
She laughed. “I don’t blame you. The idea would make me squeamish too. What about contacts? I know some of the guys wear them.”
“Okay, since we’re being real here? There’s this whole bit about things coming at or on my eye.” He gave a slow shake of his head. “It’s a big no for me.”
“You, the big tough firefighter, has a thing about your eyes?” she teased and eased the glasses onto his face, sliding the stems behind his ears. “Well, I’m glad you didn’t do either of them.”
“Really now.”
“Absolutely.” She leaned back, visually tracing his face, and gave a small nod. Her tone softened. “You’re super hot in them, and I’d actually be really sad if you ever tried to lose them.”
A thrill of warmth ran through him. “Good to know.”
“Now let’s get you at least partially dressed.” She grabbed the boxers from the counter where she’d set them down.
His gaze caught on the design on them. “Hell. You had to grab the ones with the Chihuahuas.”
“They’re adorable.”
“My mom gives us underwear for Christmas. Every year. Puts them in our stockings. So my sister and I wear them, no matter how weird or adorable they are.”
Her eyes rounded and her lips parted. “Aw, that’s the sweetest thing I’ve heard all day.”
He bit back a groan. At least, she hadn’t found the one with cats wearing Santa hats.
She crouched back down and eyed his legs. “Now putting this on you is going to suck.”
“I’ll be okay. Just don’t stare at my dick,” he joked, then added, “Or do.”
Her cheeks turned pink. “I’m not so good at the ‘look, but don’t touch’ thing, so I’ll avert my eyes.”
The erection that he’d just managed to wash away with cold water threatened to come back.
“Okay, let’s do this,” he muttered, before he lost his focus.
The next few minutes were spent gently maneuvering him and his broken leg into the boxers.
By the time they’d finished, he was sweating again and his muscles twitched from the pain.
“Hand me my crutches?”
She grabbed them from where they leaned against the towel cupboard and handed them to him.
“Thanks. Okay, I’ve got it from here.”
With a nod, she backed out of the bathroom and gave him space.
Thankful for the strong muscles in his arms, Reggie maneuvered himself up and into motion without too much difficulty.
He made his way back to the living room and the recliner there. Amber lingered nearby, but didn’t hover. Didn’t rush to assist him or worry aloud.
Which was a relief, after spending the last couple of days with his mom and sister at the hospital, then at home.
His dad had been single-handedly holding up the bakery, but had promised to swing by tomorrow.
Once he was settled in the chair again, with his feet up, he let out a long sigh. Damn, it felt good to be back at base, which was how he was beginning to see it.
The exhaustion hit suddenly and with the force of a semitruck, making his muscles heavy and tired, and his mind feel fuzzy.
“You need some rest.” Amber laid a blanket over the arm of his chair. “That’s in case you get cold. I’ll grab you some more water.”
“You don’t have to stay.” He let his eyes close.
She went to grab the water, not answering. When she returned, she set the water bottle down and touched his hand.
He opened his eyes with great effort.
“I know I don’t have to stay, Reg. And, honestly, I’m going to run home for a bit and get some things done.” Her gaze softened. “But I’m sleeping over so I can help you out as much as I can. You literally saved my ass in that fire.”
His chest tightened at the thought. They both could’ve fallen through those stairs.
“Is that why you’re doing this?”
Her gaze slipped away. “No. You’re also my friend, and I care about you.”
Does she let all her friends give her an orgasm?
A small stab of jealousy hit, but he knew he had no right. Sure, maybe they were fucking around a bit, but one day that likely would be over. And when it was, he hoped like hell their foundation of friendship remained.
Especially seeing as they worked together.
“You’re an angel.” He forced a small smile as the drowsiness swept in again.
“You’d do the same for me.” She glanced toward the door. “Take a nap and I’ll be back in a couple of hours. I need to throw my laundry in the dryer.”
He tried to murmur a word of acknowledgment, but the fog of exhausted sleep was rolling in.
There was the faint sound of the door clicking shut, then locking.
Where’d she get a key?
The thought barely registered before he was off into dreamland.
Chapter Twelve
Two hours had gone by.
Yikes.
After checking the time on her phone, Amber shoved it back into the pocket of her sweats.
Time to get the hell back to Reggie.
A prickle of unease hit that she’d left him for a couple of hours alone. Hopefully, he’d slept the whole time.
But finishing up laundry and grabbing some groceries at the store had to be done. Reggie needed some ready-to-go eats in his fridge.
Especially since she didn’t cook.
On the drive back, she put her phone on speaker and called Tara.
“You’re calling me. You never call me. What’s up? How’s Reggie?”
Amber had filled her in on the accident via text right after it’d happened.
“He’s okay. Recovering with a broken leg.” She paused. “I’m helping him out on my days off. I’m actually driving back to his house now, which is why I’m calling since I can’t text.”
“That’s sweet of you. How’s that going?”
“Good.” She paused, before blurting, “We’re, um, kind of physically involved now. Sprinted past the ‘friends only’ line.”
“Is that so? Well, it’s about damn time.”
Amber flushed. “Anyway, you may not see me as much since I’m helping him out.”
“In more ways than one,” Tara teased. “Sounds good. Be safe and don’t wear yourself out.”
“Thanks. You too. Love you, Tara.”
“Love you too, Am.”
She ended the call just as she pulled into Reggie’s driveway.
A minute later, while juggling two Trader Joe’s bags, she managed to unlock his front door.
She glanced over to where Reggie still sat in the recliner, watching her as she stepped inside.
“How are you?”
His smile was faint. “I’m about as well as a guy with a broken leg can be.”
“You on top of your meds?”
“Sure am. Where did you get a house key?”
She flushed. “Your sister slipped me hers. So if you’re going to be mad—”
