Fuel the Fire (Southern Heat Book 8) Read online

  His shirt open, it was her turn to explore. She ran her fingers through the smattering of chest hair, just a few shades darker than the gorgeous mop on his head, then teased his nipples, rubbing her thumb over the flat disks. Not all men enjoyed that, she knew, but it was definitely a turn on for Jeremy, his head falling back against the bed at the same time as his hips punched upward, increasing the delicious friction building between them. He tried to maneuver his injured side out of the way, but the sling immobilized his entire arm, the whole point being to keep the shoulder joint supported and still. His free hand moved from gripping her hip to the bed of the truck, and he pushed himself upward so that Rachel was now sitting in his lap. “Know anyone that can get me out of this thing?” he asked, grinning.

  She returned the smile. One of the things she liked best about Jeremy was his joker personality. Always happy, even when his physio exercises had to hurt like a son of bitch. It appeared that attitude was the same everywhere. She liked it. “Hmmm,” she said, tapping one finger against her chin. “I’m not sure. Do you promise to be a good boy if I do let you out?”

  His grin grew wider and Jeremy waggled his eyebrows. “Oh, I’ll be very good indeed. Probably the best you’ve ever had.”

  Rachel tried desperately to push down her reaction to his words, but her cheeks flamed anew as she felt wetness pool on her underwear. Oh my God.

  She liked to joke around herself. It even made some work situations with difficult patients, or ones who were in pain, easier to deal with. She’d forgotten, though, that she was dealing with a master. She’d heard all about Jeremy’s one-liners and his practical jokes, from more than one person around town, but being thrown in the deep end with the man himself was an entirely different story. Somehow, he’d revved her from deciding to give in to her attraction to the sexual equivalent of speeding down the freeway at sixty, in under half an hour. If he could do that, she couldn’t wait to see what would happen next.

  Fresh arousal slicked her thighs. At this rate, Jeremy would be able to notice, even through her gym pants. The whole air around them already smelled like sex. It was time to find out what the guy could do with both hands. If they stayed in the same position and he let her do most of the work, there’d be no harm in removing the sling. He’d been right. His shoulder joint was mostly healed. She’d been following standard recovery timelines with his treatment plan, but she was quickly realizing that there was absolutely nothing typical when it came to Jeremy.

  She expertly freed her hand and then grabbed at the hem of her own shirt and lifted it over her head. One fewer reaching stretch for him, and also a way to move things to the next level. There was no way she was turning back now, and with the heat growing in her belly, it was time to push everything up a notch before she ended up shamelessly grinding out an orgasm while fully clothed.

  The heat in Jeremy’s eyes blazed as her shirt hit the truck, revealing her white lacy bra. Without so much as a flinch, both of his hands came up and he cupped her breasts as his mouth sought hers out again. His tongue thrust forward, sliding against hers. She felt him grow longer and harder beneath her as he pushed down one bra cup, tweaking her nipple until she groaned. Jeremy’s lips moved away, but before she could process the loss, he sucked her nipple into his mouth, laving it with his tongue. Fuck waiting. It was her turn.

  She moved her hand down to his crotch and gently squeezed, then rubbed her hand along his covered shaft. His eyes drifted closed and his hand came up to cup her head. He fisted a handful of hair and held her to him as she continued to stroke his length. Her pussy clenched with anticipation as she rubbed his cock, and she almost cried out when Jeremy’s hands moved back to her hips as he slid one inside her pants. He stroked at her folds, expertly parting them, and copied her motion, grinding his thumb down on her clit. Rachel sent a prayer of thanks up to whoever invented lycra. Her pants stretched easily to allow his hand almost free movement as he slipped his fingers lower, one moving just inside her as his palm continued to press down on her sensitive nub. She moaned as heat rose within her at his touch and she felt Jeremy’s ab muscles tense beneath her touch. It was time to take this to the next level, before they both ended up coming before they had their clothes off.

  Leaving his shirt on but open to expose his chest, Rachel quickly worked his jeans open, pausing to admire his cock when it came into view for the first time. Just like the whole man, it was perfection. Long and thick, with a large vein running along the underside. A bead of precum glistened on the tip and she leaned down, sucking it into her mouth. Jeremy’s jaw went slack, and for the first time around her, he was at a loss for words. She slid her mouth down over his cock, deep-throating him once, twice, then pulled off. After months of teasing verbal foreplay between them, she was completely on edge, and from the look on Jeremy’s face and the punch of his hips when she took his dick into her mouth, he was right there with her.

  Hopping off his lap, she pulled his jeans and boxers off completely, biting her lip when his cock sprung upward when finally free. At the sight, she couldn’t shimmy out of her leggings fast enough. As she kicked her shoes off, her brain finally caught up to where they were and she glanced around, looking for any neighbors or surprise visitors. Jeremy grabbed onto her underwear, the thin fabric the last thing between them. “No one’s around, ever,” he grunted, pulling on the lacy fabric. “Condom inside my jeans pocket,” he huffed. “Now.”

  A tingling rushed through her at his words. She was barely naked and already she’d managed to reduce the gorgeous man still lying beneath her into single words. This day had turned out amazingly different than her plans, indeed. Instead of a lonely dinner for one, now she got to feast on the hunk spread out like a buffet. All she had to do was take what she wanted. Naked now, she straddled his thighs, Jeremy growling low when her wetness slicked against his skin. She took his cock in hand and pumped it, rolling her fist around the sensitive head, before sliding the condom over his length. She leaned forward, lying over him, and kissed him deeply, then raised herself on one knee, grabbing his cock and guiding it to her waiting sex. She lowered herself down, reveling in the feeling of her body stretching to take him in, then rose back up, taking a little more of him on each stroke. Jeremy’s gaze stayed pinned on hers, his eyes taking on a dreamy quality as she moved up and down his length until she was finally sitting on his thighs, his cock deep inside her. His hands moved to her hips to guide her as she increased her speed, bouncing up and down. A litany of moans and curses fell from his lips as she braced herself on his chest, the position making him slip deeper inside her. The tip brushed over a magic spot inside that caused a rush of pleasure to race over her entire body, and her hands curled in, her nails biting into his chest as she rode him.

  “Fuck yes,” Jeremy said. “Exactly like that.” His hips punched upward, no longer able to lie still beneath her, and Rachel felt something spiral tighter inside her as her body rushed toward orgasm. Jeremy’s gaze moved from her face to where they were joined, watching as his dick slid out of her body almost to the tip before he thrust up deep inside her, over and over again. Fuck. She half wanted to move faster again, but she also wanted to savor every moment. Something had happened that day to make this possible between them, but Rachel didn’t hold any illusions that it would be more than a one-time thing. In just a week or two, Jeremy’s appointments would be over, and she was sure once he was fully healed and no longer needed to see her every day that there’d be a line of women waiting to try to take his attention. The man was tall, smoking hot, and a firefighter—what wasn’t there to love?

  She shifted her hips, slowing down her pace and moving along his body, the change in position lighting up her entire body as it stimulated new nerves inside her core. Jeremy’s hands moved to her ass, pulling her forward, and she put her hands either side of his head, her breasts pressing into his hard chest as they moved together in a perfect symphony. His large hands spanned her entire back, holding her close to him as he rolled his hips.
He lifted her up just enough that he could suck her breast into his mouth, a shot of pleasure going through her as she continued to ride him. As she moved, he bit down lightly on her nipple and then slapped her ass. A low moan fell from her lips as her skin heated where his hand had been. God, who knew a bite of pain along with pleasure could be so damn blissful?

  “God, Gorgeous,” he said. “You’re fucking perfect.” His hand moved to her clit, circling hard against her while his hips rose faster, thrusting deep inside her and pounding the magical spot over and over again. The world faded away as ecstasy grew inside her and she came, collapsing against his chest. She felt Jeremy push deep inside her again before gripping her hips and holding himself there as he spilled into the condom. When his moans finally stopped, he leaned over and brushed a lock of hair from her eyes as his lips met hers again.

  4

  Jeremy

  Jeremy paused halfway out the door of the therapy room at the hospital. Things between him and Rachel had been fine that day, he supposed. Casual, a comment there, a smile there. It was how it had always been. The problem was that two days ago, she’d fucked the living daylights out of him in the back of his truck. They hadn’t even made it inside before the lust that had been roiling between them for months exploded, culminating in the ride of his life, both of them buck naked out on his front lawn. At the time, he’d thanked whatever whim had caused him to buy the place out of town. After two months of flirtatious comments, and then that damn blush from Rachel when he’d flirted with her after she nearly took him out in the grocery parking lot . . . everything he’d been holding in for months had bubbled over.

  The sex had been great, no, incredible. Afterward had been great, too. They’d gone inside and she’d borrowed his shower, cleaning up after their impromptu fuck, while he dug through her bags of groceries and found dinner. He’d thrown on a pair of basketball shorts, but left his upper body naked. Unfortunately, when she’d returned to the kitchen, Rachel had been fully clothed.

  He hadn’t thought anything of it at the time. She probably needed some recovery time. Jeremy prided himself on making sure his partner enjoyed herself, and unless he’d been hallucinating, Rachel had had a very good time, indeed. She’d ridden his dick with abandon, her head flung back and her hands gripping onto him so hard her nails had left small marks on his skin. It was sexy as hell.

  So why were they back to their old, friendly normal? As the session went on, his frustrations had grown, until he was stomping on the urge to roll over and take her right there on the PT table. Her touches today had been innocent, nothing beyond what was needed to do her job, but they’d still make lightening flick across his nerves every time. He’d spent the entire session sporting a semi and becoming increasingly frustrated.

  The only benefit to the whole thing, apart from at least feeling her touch in some way, was that at the end of the session, she’d proclaimed him ready to ditch his sling, at least part of the time. Finally. Its purpose to immobilize his shoulder joint while it healed, the damn thing was tight and restricting. Getting rid of it was enough to make the day better all on its own. He just wouldn’t tell Rachel about the multiple times he’d already ditched it before today when it had driven him crazy.

  His fingers tightened on the door jamb as a thought entered his mind. Reaching that step also meant that his time of seeing her daily was coming to a swift end. He’d pushed his therapy from the beginning, determined to get back out there as fast as possible, and she’d indulged him. At the time, he hadn’t thought it through enough to realize that meant he’d stop seeing her altogether much sooner. Idiot. He turned back into the room. No way was he going to walk out that door without doing something to try to rekindle whatever had turned her from physical therapist into wild sex kitten a couple of days before. If he didn’t at least try, then he knew he’d regret it once the sessions were over.

  “So, we’ve done the end of the date already. How about I show you the beginning over dinner tonight?” Even before he’d finished the sentence, Jeremy wanted to slap himself over the head. She was obviously feeling awkward about what had happened between them, and so why the hell had he gone and reminded her?

  Her head jerked up from where she was cleaning the table, her hand flinching a little in surprise. Rachel blew out a breath and reached up to swipe her hair out of her face. She was stalling. Jeremy didn’t care. He could wait. She was worth it. When she finally met his gaze, her face was half surprise, half skepticism. “Dinner dinner? Like real food, eaten in public?” He couldn’t blame her for her surprise after last night. He had fed her, but it was typical slab-of-meat guy cooking while perched at his kitchen counter, and she’d paid for the damn food in the first place.

  He ran a hand through his hair, a rueful smile on his face. Yeah, the sex had been great, but on reflection, he’d well and truly fucked up the rest of it. “You pick the place,” he said. “And I’m buying.” She opened her mouth and he beat her to the punch. “No objections. I owe you.” He was hoping by the end of the night she’d allow him to pay in orgasms, but for now all he wanted was for her to agree to dinner. He’d take what he could get.

  “Chinese,” she blurted out. “The place down on Main. I love their wonton soup.”

  Yes! He resisted the urge to pump his fist, but a wide grin spread over his face. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up at seven.” Her mouth opened again, but he waggled a finger. “Nuh-uh. This time I’m doing it right. Dinner first.”

  He’d hold what he hoped would happen after dinner close to his chest for the meanwhile, but he nearly fell over in relief when her face broke into a beautiful smile of her own. “I’ll see you then.”

  Jeremy looked in the mirror one last time. Damn, he was nervous. It wasn’t like him to be so fussy over his appearance, over anything, really. Take it as it comes, happy go lucky—that was how he lived his life. So why did he care so much about whether he’d chosen the right shirt for their date tonight, or how his hair looked?

  Because you care about her.

  There’d been other dates in his life, of course, and he’d made sure to show them a good time. He wasn’t a complete asshole. But he’d never spent nearly thirty minutes silently debating with himself over which black shirt looked better than the other. Another fifteen had been spent artfully arranging his hair, or he tried, anyway. He wore it a little longer than most of the guys, and sometimes used a little wax to keep it under control. The style he’d been happy with for pretty much his whole adult life suddenly wouldn’t do that night, though.

  He glanced at his watch. It was time to stop fussing with it. If he didn’t leave right then, he was going to be late. She either liked him or . . . well, he didn’t want to think about the alternative right then. He was freaking himself out enough already. He took in a large breath, forcing himself to slow the exhalation, and then picked up his keys. Rachel was either going to like him, or she wasn’t. He’d done his best. Well actually, he’d done his best the first time.

  A grin spread across his face. Even nervous, his sense of humor refused to stay away for long. He sobered. He hoped she’d like that, too. She seemed to. Some people in his life didn’t seem to know how to take him, and first impressions hadn’t always gone well. If the night before was any example though . . . he’d made a very good impression, indeed. God, his orgasm had nearly induced a seizure, and he had to think that Rachel had felt the same, by the way she was writhing and groaning as she sought out her pleasure on his cock. Damn, it had been the sexiest thing he’d ever seen. Normally, he’d put it down to long-simmering lust, a case of working himself up over months of feeling her hands touch him, manipulating and guiding his shoulder injury. But that wasn’t it. This time, it meant more. It was special. There’d been something between them, something he didn’t have a name for yet, but he sure as hell wanted more. Ideally, after he took her out for dinner, Rachel would let him bring her to heaven all over again. Maybe they’d even make it to the bed this time.

/>   He was picking his keys up from the hall stand when his phone went off in his pocket, vibrating against his thigh. Jeremy groaned. He was still sporting a semi from the memories of last night that had run through his mind while he was getting ready. He’d refused to jerk off in the shower, despite the rush of blood to his dick every time he thought of her. It sounded as corny as hell, but the sex the night before hadn’t been just sex—there’d be something else there, and he wanted to experience it all over again. Many times. But, if he was going to make it through dinner without pouncing on her or diving under the table and licking her to orgasm right there in the restaurant, then the last thing he needed was any more stimulation. His latest mental image was already going to have him hard for the rest of the night.

  The phone vibrated in his hand and Jeremy jerked. Damn, he’d disappeared into lusty memories again and forgotten the phone jiggling away in his palm. If he didn’t get moving, then he was going to be late and fuck up the opportunity to see the live replay version at all. He clicked to answer the phone, holding it to his ear with his shoulder while opening the door. Damn, he couldn’t wait until he had both hands available again entirely . . . officially, anyway. He just wouldn’t admit to Rachel how many times he’d taken off his sling in the past couple of weeks. Once the initial pain of surgery had faded, it had been too damn frustrating half the time. He figured it was better to just use his arm and get whatever it was done in five minutes, than spend an hour dicking around and getting nowhere.