Читать книгу Santa Wore Leathers: The sexiest firefighter Christmas romance of the year! - Vonnie Davis - Страница 10

Becca fingered for her door key, hidden in the hanging fern on her porch and wiped off the dirt before sticking it in her lock. Going over to Wolf’s had been a huge mistake. Huge. She’d gone to the trouble of getting made-up and squeezed into her best dress for five minutes of party and ten minutes of lecture. Damn, what an annoying man.

From inside, Einstein barked and whined an eager welcome.

“Becca! Becca, wait up.” Hurried footfalls sounded behind her and a hand coiled around her arm. Wolf turned her to face him. “I was offensive back there. I’m sorry.”

Just why did you have to make him so handsome, God? Even in the dark, his voice is deep and sensual. Couldn’t you have taken some of his abundant sexiness and used it to make him more pleasant? ’Cause this guy is one rude piece of work.

She jerked her hand from his grasp. “First, you can stop putting your hands on me. Earlier today you said you were sorry for flirting with me, as if I wasn’t the type of woman you found attractive.”

“That’s not true. I find you very attractive. What man wouldn’t?”

She chose to ignore his forced compliment. After all, she’d gotten all dressed up for him and he never once told her how nice she looked. Nice? Hell, she looked hot, the big jerk. “Now you’re apologizing for being impolite and insulting. Tell me, do you ever do anything you don’t regret later?”

He backed her against the door, his dark eyes glittering in the soft light spilling onto the porch from her desk lamp near the window. Her tummy did a little twitchy thing when his thighs bumped hers. His fingers forked in her hair, angling her head so their gazes locked. “Believe me, you annoying woman, what I’m about to do next I don’t plan on regretting.”

His warm, soft lips covered hers with gentle sips at first as if tasting her or waiting for her to object. She would have, too, if her mind hadn’t stopped working. Her whole body sparked with a sensual overload, and she trembled with its power. His fingertips massaged her scalp in miniscule circles, sending an erotic electrical current zinging down her thighs to zap the tips of her toes.

Her hands took on a life of their own and spread over his hard chest and broad shoulders. Tension rippled beneath his white, soft polo shirt as her hands explored and caressed. He tasted of beer and something sweet, whipped into a frenzy with tightly reigned male passion. Wood tones from his cologne were too appealing. Against her desires—or because of them—she pressed against the heat of his muscular frame.

He groaned her name against her lips and she was lost.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing her fingers to sift through his long hair, she tangled her tongue with his. Wetness pooled and a moan escaped from the confines of her chest. How long? How long had it been since she’d felt so feminine, so aroused, so damned desperate for a man? When he angled his head to take the kiss deeper and rocked his hips against hers, the fleeting question in her mind morphed into raw need.

He took control, grabbed her bottom and rubbed her mound against his erection to increase the friction.

A rainbow of fireworks exploded behind her eyelids. Sensations staggering between pain and pleasure erupted. If she didn’t end this, she’d climax on her front porch—and wouldn’t that just add to his egotistical opinion of himself?

She pushed him away. “No.”

His eyes were hooded and obsidian with desire. He rested his forehead against hers and took several long, deep breaths. “You’re right. Not here. Not now.”

“Not ever.”

Caution coiled strong tentacles around her heart. She wanted this man. Perhaps that was why she watched him from her window and was so attentive to his comings and goings. Something about his bearing attracted her, and she wanted him with an intensity she’d never had with Tommy Ray. What passion they’d shared at the start of their four-year marriage soon died. No doubt a few times with Wolf and this sexual craze would fade too. Would its ending hurt as much as the conclusion of her life with her ex-husband? She wouldn’t allow herself to find out. This magnetism had to cease now.

“You have a party to return to, birthday boy.”

His head inclined and he feathered several kisses against her neck. She stifled a moan. It was as if he already knew her body’s erogenous zones. Her nipples peaked in search of friction from his fingers or tongue.

He straightened and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “I have to work tomorrow and the next day. We do two twenty-four-hour shifts at the station and then have two days off. My family’s going Christmas-caroling at two retirement homes Wednesday evening. Would you like to come along? It’s something we started on my first Christmas out of the Navy. Being with seniors reminds us of our parents and grandparents.” He glanced away. “Anchors us in the season, somehow.”

Pain, grief perhaps, tinged his final statement and touched her heart. “That’s a very magnanimous gesture. I’m guessing yours is a family that goes all out for the holidays?” Hers hadn’t since her dad walked out.

He trailed his fingertips down her cheek. “You have no idea how much we love Christmas. It tends to bring out the kid in each of us. Everyone meets at my place for cookies and hot chocolate before we head off to the nursing homes. Wendy Anne has a keyboard we take along.”

“Wow. You do go all out.” Would Wolf be a powerful singer or produce a flat tone? She’d love to go along just to hear him.

“The girls have already put together little presents for the senior citizens. Lotions, bath gels, stockings.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Stuff like that. I throw in books. Romances for the women, books set during World War II or the Vietnam War for the men.”

She hadn’t expected this side of him and it surprised her. “Why would you include me in your family tradition? I’ll feel as if I’m intruding.”

“No. The more, the merrier. Some of the guys from the station are also going along. They bought puzzles to add to the presents we’ll hand out.”

“I could make cookies and candies. I love to cook, but rarely do it just for me.”

“Sounds good. Come over at six on Wednesday. It’ll be an early evening since the old folks tend to go to bed earlier than most.” He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “Maybe we could go out for a late dinner. I’ll make reservations for the two of us somewhere.”

Singing Christmas carols and handing out gifts as part of a group was one thing, but dinner alone with him was more personal. She had to keep her distance. With one heated kiss, he’d melted a layer of the glacier encasing her heart. A handsome, sexy, self-assured man could do great damage. She had to deflect Wolf’s allure by refusing his offer. What better way to repel him than reminding him what she was? “You’d take a lowly reporter out to dinner?”

He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans and stepped backwards. “A reporter. Yeah, I’d forgotten.” He snorted a burst of laughter. “Hell, with my lips fused to yours earlier, I damn near forgot my name. I never lose control with a woman like that.” His gaze shifted to the street for a few seconds, and he murmured something she couldn’t distinguish. His posture and the set of his broad shoulders spoke of sadness. Oh, girl, get a grip. Just like all men, he’s a heartache with a capital H.

“Good night, Wolf.”

His dark eyes with their predatory gaze landed on her, and for an instant, they almost caressed her before emotion shuttered them. “I’m attracted to you. I won’t deny it.” He huffed an audible sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I also don’t like or trust reporters. Dammit, why did you have to be one?” He executed a half-hearted salute and walked away. “Good night, reporter lady.”

A dose of melancholy misted her eyes and she willed the tears away. Why would she care if the man never approached her again? Or kissed her? She turned and leaned her forehead against the front door, sighing. Something about the feelings he stirred in her scared her. The man certainly knew how to hijack a kiss. For a minute he had her femininity flying high—and she feared the crash landing the ride would surely bring.

****

Salt spray moistened Wolf’s face as the rubber inflatable craft sped along the causeway. He welcomed the familiar exhilaration, the adrenaline rush. Dressed in scuba gear, his gaze swept over his highly trained four-man Marine Rescue Unit as they expertly prepared for their rescue attempt. When the call came into the station from a stranded boat near Memorial Causeway Bridge, his team was underway in less than five minutes.

His diving partner, Barclay, shouted over the noise of the speeding engine, “Dispatch said the guy fell overboard?”