Light up the Night (Firehouse Three #2)(42)

And she was desperate enough to beg.

“Please,” her moan was breathless. “Please, Drake.”

“Please, what?” He pressed hard on her clit with the heel of his hand, and she nearly bucked off the bed.

“Please f*ck me!”

She didn’t have to ask twice.

A heartbeat later, condom in place, Drake was between her thighs, that hot, blunt head of his erection probing at her where his fingers had been only a split second before. She stared up into his eyes.

He was looking into her, as if he could see all the way down to her soul. His lips were parted, the muscles on his arms sharply defined as he held his weight above her.

“Are you ready?”

She nodded and pulled him down to her. His lips took hers as he slipped deep into her, his heat stretching her, filling her, making her shake and cling harder to him to keep from splintering into pieces.

His tongue swirled around hers as his hips began a sweet, even rhythm. Slow at first, then faster, deeper, harder as she lifted her body to meet his and opened her mouth wider for him. He was inside her, in so many ways, not all of them physical. Her heart was pounding, her blood was thundering through her ears, and the passion inside her was screaming one name.

Drake.

She felt his body tense above her as he pulled away. Looking down at her, he stilled for half a heartbeat.

In that impossibly brief, eternal moment, she met his gaze unflinching. Ready. She trusted him. This was right. And she didn’t want to wait anymore.

His hand reached between them to find her, and together they cried out as hot pulses overtook them both. Everly held him tight as the last few spasms wracked his big, muscled body, her own pleasure tingling through her limbs.

As the rush of her pulse quieted, and she became aware of her surroundings once again, Everly could hear Drake’s thundering heartbeat. She smiled, tucking her cheek to his chest. It was a beautiful sound.

Drake moved to her side and rolled her to face away from him. He curled up with his arms around Everly, her body tucked into his—she’d never been the little spoon before, and she liked it. She closed her eyes.

Why had she ever been afraid of this? Of being with him and allowing herself to live? Now it seemed so silly, with his strong arms wrapped around her and his body tucked behind hers.

The memory of their earlier conversation surfaced, and with the heat of his body warming her, she searched through it again. Jo-Jo. The thought of that sweet, fluffy black pup not living, not ever getting to chase a tennis ball, not ever sleeping on the bed of a person she’d loved had been Everly’s driving force to open the rescue. Dogs like Jo-Jo deserved a chance at life and happiness. She’d believed that when she was eight years old, and she still believed it today.

So why was it so hard to think that she, herself, might deserve the same things? Being with Drake made her feel more alive than anything else did. And when she was with him? She was happy.

It was time to stop being so afraid of life outside her mental cardboard box, and to start living.

An idea popped into her head, and her eyes flew open.

Should she? It would be a step forward, for sure. A gesture of faith. A step outside that cardboard box.

“My parents have a lake house,” she said, snuggling even closer to him. For courage. “It’s up at Lake Texoma. Would you like to go up there with me in a couple weeks? We could fish, tool around on the jet ski, maybe watch a sunset or two.”

“Sounds nice,” he said, his deep voice rumbling against her back. God, that was an incredible feeling. “Sure, I’d love to.”

As he pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck, Everly let her eyes drift closed again.

Tomorrow there would be plenty of time to second-guess this impetuous decision. And despite her earlier revelation, she knew there would probably be doubts. But for now?

Drake rolled over and began kissing her again, and all her worries were cheerfully shoved to the back corner of her mind.

Her worries could wait. Her fireman could not.





14.

A long, lazy sunbeam reached across Drake’s bed and speared him directly in the eyes. Grunting, he threw an arm across his face and rolled onto his back.

His stretch brought his free hand into contact with a warm, still body.

He looked over at her, his chest getting warmer and fuller as he took in the sight of her.

Her back was toward him, the covers draped over the curve of her hip. Her smooth, beautiful skin invited him to touch, to remember the softness in real time. A small tattoo caught his attention on her lower left hip, a set of paw prints he hadn’t noticed until now. There was a name written below them, the script fancy and a bit faded as if the ink was a bit aged. Jo-Jo.

Drake rolled onto his side, letting his fingers lay lightly on the slight nip-in at her waist, just above that tattoo.

Jo-Jo. It was obvious now exactly who Jo-Jo was. He was so glad she’d shared that story with him last night.

“Thanks, Jo-Jo,” he whispered, so low there was hardly any sound to it. If not for that little pup someone had abandoned, her life would have taken a totally different course. And who knew if they’d end up together in that alternate reality? The way Drake saw it, he owed that little dog a big thank-you.

With one last gentle touch on the tattoo, Drake pulled Everly closer. She pressed her hips back against him with a happy, sleepy sigh.