14. Just Fire
JUST FIRE
Baker had no problem taking a day off of work the following week. Not even last minute, as long as he had nothing pressing he had to do for the day.
As luck would have it, he didn’t, so when Tasha texted she was thinking of bringing Micah to daycare on her day off, if there was a chance he could free up a few hours, he jumped on it.
If she was willing to give them some time alone, no way he was going to say no.
It’d been two weeks since their first kiss. The past seven days he’d gone to her house after her son was in bed three times and all three times he could barely walk home without his dick getting in the way.
She wasn’t teasing him.
Nope. No way. She was the one who seemed to lose more control than him.
He was the one who had to stop them. Every. Single. Time.
He pulled into her driveway, parked, and got out, then went to the front door, his step light, even if everything in him felt heavy.
Not from nerves. Not from fear.
More for the weight of this next step.
He knew what was going to happen today. He was positive she did too.
Why else bring her child to daycare an extra few hours?
She had to be ready and he was letting her set the pace. Even if the pace was knotting him up inside.
He knocked once and the door opened.
Tasha was standing there in tan shorts, higher on her thighs than normal, her quads flexing, almost in anticipation for what their time together was going to bring.
“If you wring your hands next I’m going to feel like shit.”
She laughed. “Sorry. I don’t mean it. I’m just nervous.”
“Why?”
“Because we’ve had a buffer the entire time we’ve spent together and it’s gone.”
“Give me a minute to process that because you’re the one who suggested this.”
“I did. And I want it. I want you.”
That was a way to get his dick ready for action.
But it’d been on the verge of taking off for days since they’d set this up.
“I get it. I feel the same. But if it’s making you doubt yourself, that isn’t good either.”
She was still shaking her head, her breath quick but steady. “I’m not doubting anything. I just didn’t want you to think I only wanted you here for sex.”
He let out a laugh and pulled her flush against him. “I’m okay with you thinking that for the next hour. Or…” He brushed his lips along her cheek deliberately slow. “We can wait for another day.”
She didn’t hesitate. Didn’t pull back. Didn’t second-guess herself for even a heartbeat.
She melted into him. Her soft curves drawing him out. Her arms looping around his neck, her fingers threading through his hair. Then she tugged, sharp and sure, and dragged his mouth back to hers with a hunger that made his pulse slam against his ribs.
“No,” she breathed into his lips. “I can’t wait another day. Can you?”
His answer came instinctively through his hands.
His fingers clamped around her hips, dragged her body against him close enough he felt every deliberate shift and every slow grind she gifted him in return.
Her breath hitched. His control snapped.
“Does that feel like waiting to you?” he murmured against her mouth, his voice low and roughened by the way she fit against him.
Her answer came as a soft exhale that hit him harder than any words could.
He cupped the back of her head, tilting it just enough to take her mouth again. Hot, hungry, and claiming. The kind of kiss that stole thoughts and language and left nothing but want.
The kind they’d been helping themselves to for days when they were together.
Only this time there was nothing to get in their way.
Nothing to stop them. Nothing to turn them back.
She met him beat for beat.
No shyness. No hesitation. Just fire.
Her hands fisted in the back of his shirt as he devoured her lips, tasting the urgency, the need, and the certainty.
He kissed her deeper, slower, as if he had all the time in the world, and he planned to use every second of it on her.
Because he did.
His mouth lingered on hers, softer now, like he was memorizing the taste of her before the moment shifted into something neither of them could walk back from.
When he finally pulled away, her lips were flushed, her breath unsteady, her eyes dark and fixed on him like he was the only solid thing in the room.
“Baker…” she whispered with equal parts of warning and wanting.
He brushed a thumb over her cheek, let it trail to her jaw, to her throat, feeling the quick pulse beneath his fingertips. “Are you sure?”
Her fingers tightened in his shirt. “Yeah. I’m sure.”
That was all he needed.
He swung her up and into his arms, cradled her, his mouth claiming her for another kiss that would stop both of their thoughts.
He knew the layout of her place, the same as his, and made his way toward the primary suite, pushing the door open with his foot, then laying her on the bed.
When he wanted to stand back up, she wouldn’t release the death grip on his shirt, forcing him to land on top of her on the mattress, the breath knocked out of both of them.
He turned her quickly, putting her on his chest, she brought her knees up and spread them around his hips, her hands reaching for the bottom of his shirt and tugging it over his head.
“You can do the same for me,” she said, laughing.
Her nerves were gone. He could see it. He could feel it.
She was playful now.
Her shirt was up and over her head just as quickly, his fingers reaching for the button on those dangerously short shorts.
He caught a glimpse of white silk and groaned.
“Now I know you’re trying to torture me. It’s as if you knew my weakness.”
She laughed, a sexy throaty sound. “I’m glad I found one, but just took a guess. I like the way silk feels against me. But I’m positive it won’t stay on long.”
His hands went for her white bra, found the clasp on her back and quickly unhooked that before sending it flying to the floor.
“Nothing is staying on you long,” he said, then shifted her fast enough she hit the mattress on her back, bouncing once, her hands then reaching for the button on his shorts.
He shook his head. If he lost any more of his clothing he’d be done in an instant. No reason to embarrass himself over his lack of control.
Not without at least getting her there first.
Sliding down her body, his mouth landed on a rose-colored perky nipple begging for his mouth, his tongue, his teeth.
She’d be treated to it all because he was not only a starving man, but one on a mission.
That mission was to get her to come undone in his hands.
The taste of her was a nectar he’d been denying himself for way too long. Sweet, juicy, plump and all his.
His thumb and finger moved to her other breast, pinched her, plucked her like she was fresh fruit just waiting for his enjoyment.
His mouth moved side to side, giving them both equal attention, making her hips lift, her body burn, her cries ready to escape between her lips.
Her fingers dug into his waist as she lifted and ground against him. Trying to get herself there before he was ready.
“Oh no,” he said. “No cheating.”
“Then stop teasing,” she growled.
“Teasing is part of the fun.”
“Fun later, sex now or I’ll take care of it myself.”
“Heard,” he said, inching his way down, his thumbs hooking into her open shorts and pulling them down with her underwear.
She wasn’t bare. She was trimmed nice and neat, as if she took special care to give him a treat with her little design.
He’d admire it later because the way her nails were digging into his shoulders said she’d be drawing blood soon.
Damn, he hadn’t expected her to be this impatient.
Not that he was complaining.
Her thighs spread wide, his eyes dropped, then his mouth. Just a light kiss on her little mound, then he spread her wide. Here she was bare.
She was wet and glistening and calling out his name.
Tempting him to not just take a taste, a lick or even a nibble, but to go headfirst in, full throttle and make her scream.
He went right for the target in front of him, the tip of his tongue bouncing off her swollen, tender flesh, licking a little, tapping some more.
She was wiggling around, squirming and lifting, but he’d shift just out of reach.
Her snarl was enough to tell him he better not do it again.
Or maybe it was the way her hands went into his hair and held his head in place right where she wanted it.
Where she wanted him.
He gave it to her.
He closed his lips around her bud, he sucked in tight, she let out a screech and he did it again.
“Don’t stop,” she said. “Right there. Stay right therrrrrrrrrrrre!”
Not like he had much of a choice, but he was fine with her command.
More so when she came.
When she throbbed, and her nails dug into his scalp.
He didn’t stop. He wouldn’t stop until she let him know she was done.
And that meant when her hands dropped away... almost thirty seconds later. Maybe it was longer.
He didn’t care either way.
He sat back on his heels. “Are you okay?”
She let out a soft, sexy sigh. “I’m wonderful. I’ll be better when you make me yours.”
“I thought I just did.”
“Nah,” she said. “That just took the edge off. I’m ready for round two. Finish undressing. I’ve got a new box of condoms on the bathroom counter.”
“Got one in my pocket,” he said, climbing off the bed, pulling it out and tossing it next to her, then removing his shorts and underwear.
Her eyes went right to his cock.
It was throbbing he was so fucking hard.
She already had the condom open, was sitting up and reaching for him.
“Nope,” he said. “Hand it over. I’m not sure I can handle your hands on me right yet.”
She gave it to him easily, her eyes never leaving his cock. “I think I’m more worked up just looking at you.”
Since her hips were making ghost movements on the bed, maybe without her knowledge, he’d have to believe her.
“Move up on the bed.”
She scooted up toward the pillows. He put one knee on the bed, then the other, crawling toward her. Toward his destiny.
Yeah, better not to think that way.
She pulled him into her embrace, his mouth to hers, not bothered in the least where it’d just been, her tongue thrusting in as her hips lifted toward his.
He nudged her legs apart with his knee, probed for entrance and then realized how fucking tight she was.
He dropped his forehead to hers. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I’m still throbbing from the orgasm. It’s like I’m retracting from that. Trust me, I’ll open for you.”
He’d have to take her word for it. She knew her body better than he did. Even if he wanted to know more.
He pushed in, she shifted her thighs wider and she was right, he slid right in and she gripped him as if he just had to slam through the door and now he was trapped.
Jesus, it was like she had a death hold on his cock, and when she wrapped her legs around his waist, that made it worse.
Or better.
Definitely better when he thrust in and out of her.
“Oh God, I’ve missed this,” she said. “I’m so close again. Don’t stop.”
He wasn’t sure he could even if she asked him to and was damn thankful she wasn’t.
But he had to get her there again. Even if it killed him.
And it might with how tight she was squeezing him inside of her.
He’d never felt that much pressure before and his control was on a slippery slope and he was losing his footing the more she met him thrust for thrust.
His heart was racing, his body was working up one hell of a sweat, but he was determined to give her a second orgasm before he was done.
And when she came. When she shouted out his name. When she arched her back and sent him deeper, then he finally knew he could let go the same as her.
That he could be free and they could fall together.
He just hoped he could catch her on the way down.
Or maybe she could catch him because what should have been simple turned out not to be that way in the least.