Consumed (Firefighters #1)(82)

Danny’s eyes were hot on her skin and his body responded, his erection thickening up quick.

She paused as she went to remove her prosthesis. Fear rose up even as she told herself this wasn’t a reveal. This wasn’t . . . anything different than any other part of her.

The lie didn’t stick. Her heart pounded as she released her static appendage and removed the sock. It took all her self-control not to put her arm behind her back, and she had to hang her head.

All of this was stupid, of course. If you looked for validation from other people, by definition they could take that away if they chose. The safest path, as always, was to be your own rock, your own harbor, your own shelter.

Am I okay? should only ever be answered by the person asking that question.

The trouble was, if you had to make the inquiry, by definition you didn’t know. And after all these months of battling her way back from the fire, solving problems, healing her body, finding her way . . . she hadn’t thought much about what the loss of her hand meant to her as a woman.

Maybe she’d deliberately not considered it.

But that which she had avoided, Ripkin had ferreted out and exposed, a new wound that required tending to.

And the truth was, there was only one person she could do this with, show this part of herself to. Regardless of all the stay-aways she put between them . . . she couldn’t imagine getting over this hurdle with anybody else.

Danny had all kinds of weaknesses and bad news sides to him, but one thing he had never done was let her down when it counted.

God, she felt like they were back in that hot spot together, flames all around, death prowling. Just the two of them, their resources, their ability to work together. And like in that crucial moment, she needed him to help save her. As much as she wanted to rely on herself, she couldn’t do this alone.

Am I still whole?



* * *



Danny’s eyes watered.

As he looked at the beautiful woman before him, her lowered head and the awkward way she held her arm off to the side gauged into his chest.

But at least what she was looking for from him was something that was easy to give.

Walking forward, he reached over and turned off the water. Then he put trembling hands on her shoulders and slowly drew them down her upper arms. She stiffened as he got to her elbows, but she did not pull away.

He waited until her eyes swung up to his own. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

By way of answer, he dropped his head and began to kiss her. When he felt her mouth finally relax against his, he moved her arms up to his shoulders, stroking them.

Her body was lithe strength, everything smooth under his palms as he drew her against himself. He loved the feel of her hips, the dip in the small of her back . . . her ass, so tight as it filled his hands. Most of all, he loved the trust she was putting in him.

Breaking the contact at their mouths, he pulled the tie out of her hair and fanned the brunette rush around her shoulders. Then he traced her features with his fingertips, her cheeks, her nose, her mouth, her chin. The column of her throat was a path he followed to the wings of her cheekbones . . . and then he went lower, teasing her nipples with a soft touch, first on one and then the other. Anne began to breathe harder, her front teeth biting into her lower lip.

Farther down, still. To her belly . . .

Lower. To her sex.

She gasped as he slipped his hand between her legs, and he took over from there, wrapping an arm around her and bending her back so he supported her weight. As he kissed her again, he stroked at her wet core, so slippery, so hot.

“Anne,” he whispered against her lips.

“Yes . . . ?”

“Do you want to know how I feel when I see you like this? Do you want to know what looking at you does to me? What my dreams at night are like and my fantasies during the day?”

There was the faintest trace of fear in her stare as she looked up at him.

When she finally nodded, he put his mouth back on hers, licked his way inside of her . . . and made her come so hard she gasped his name, her hand clawing into his shoulder.

Sometimes, it was best to show, not tell.

As she cried out, he held her and kissed her and told her he loved her in his head. And when she was finished, he picked her up and lowered her into the warm water. She went lax against the back of the tub, her body loosening under the undulating waves, her lids lowering as she relaxed.

“Don’t you need a bath, too?” she asked.

Say. No. More.

If not for the fact that Danny had nothing else to wear, he would have torn his fucking clothes off. Instead, he bitched internally at the two minutes it took to whip off his muscle shirt, kick of his boots, and lose his pants.

As he joined her, water splashed out onto the floor, but he didn’t care. He was going to redo the floor up here anyway. Maybe the ceiling down below, too, now.

He wouldn’t have cared if he’d had to raze the entire damn house.

Cupping water in his palms, he brought it to her shoulders, letting the warmth flow over her. He did the same with her sternum, the level licking at her nipples, leaving them a glistening wet that nearly had him orgasming. He carried more to her upper arm, her elbow . . .

The place where he had cut her.

When he went to touch what was left of her forearm, he wondered if she would stop him. She didn’t. She just watched him take the blunt end into his hands.