Fighting the Flames (Firefighter Romance #1)(19)
The picture would go on the wall behind the couch so every time she walked into the room she could see it. She set it down and dug out her hammer and a nail. “Damn it,” she muttered. No step stool. What could she use to stand on? Standing on the couch cushions wouldn’t give her enough height. She stacked a few boxes and stood on those. They wobbled beneath her weight, but she managed to get the nail in the wall. She leaned down and reached for the frame, stretching until she was able to get her hands on it. Suddenly, her foot went through the box and she felt herself falling backward, unable to do anything to stop it. She mentally braced herself for the landing that never came.
A strong pair of arms wrapped around her, catching her before her body hit the floor. She knew instantly who it was because only one man in the world had ever made her feel that safe. “Ryan,” she whispered.
“What on earth are you doing?” His voice was low and husky; his breath hot against her ear.
“I was trying to hang a picture and fell.” His arms were still firmly around her, and he showed no signs of letting go. She was surprisingly okay with that. It felt good to be in his arms again. It felt like home to her.
“It looks like you were attempting a death defying stunt. I’m glad I stopped by; just wanted to see if you needed any help. I saw you teetering on the edge and rushed in.” He chuckled softly. “Sorry I didn’t knock.”
“I didn’t have a stepstool,” she mumbled lamely. Her heart was beating so hard, it was a miracle it hadn’t broken a rib. Could he tell how nervous she was? Jessie licked her lips in anticipation of a kiss that she hoped would come. “You can let go of me now.” Not really, because if he did she’d go tumbling to the floor. At the moment, the only thing supporting her was him. Her feet were still in the box and her entire upper body was leaning against his chest.
“What if I don’t want to?”
She swore she felt his heart rate increase and his breathing slow. “What do you want then?”
He lifted her feet from the box and set her on the floor, turning her in his arms so that she was facing him. “The same thing I’ve wanted every day for the last three years. You.”
Before she could respond or react, Ryan’s mouth was covering hers. His tongue licked over her lips until they parted, granting him access. She closed her eyes and leaned into him, her fingernails stroking back and forth across his neck and into his hair. God, his hair was so soft. An image of him kissing his way down her naked body, his hair tickling her bare skin, flashed in her mind, and she moaned into his mouth at the memory. Lord, the things he could do to her. The pleasure he gave was unselfish and intense.
Ryan palmed the back of her head, a handful of her hair bunched between his fingers, and he deepened the kiss. His tongue dueled and danced with hers—first in a frenzy of need and then in a slow, savory simmer. He backed her up until her body was pinned between him and the wall. The feel of his erection pressing against her was unmistakable. One of his hands was on her hip; the other snaked up her body, under her tank top and cupped her breast.
One flick of his thumb across her nipple, and she was awash in a flurry of erotic sensations. His touch had always ignited a fire deep inside her that would smolder until she couldn’t take anymore. Then she’d erupt, burning both of them alive. All those years, and he still had this power over her body. Only it was stronger now, more fervent, their desire for each other all-consuming. Ryan’s mouth left hers, and he trailed kisses along her jaw and down her throat. He stopped long enough to pull her shirt over her head before resuming his heated kiss. His tongue licked from her throat down to the valley between her breasts then over to her nipple.
Jessie inhaled sharply, her body arching toward him as he drew her nipple into his mouth. “Oh, God, Ryan.” She gripped his head with both her hands, his silky smooth hair caressing her fingers, and she held him to her breast, luxuriating in the feel of his hot mouth on her flesh. God, it felt so good, too good. It terrified her how much power he had over her, how she was so willing to give herself to him so completely and without question. They hadn’t even really talked. And they needed to. They had to clear the air about what happened three years ago. She reached for him in an attempt to drag him to his feet, to put an end to this before it went any further, but all she managed to do was get him to take his shirt off.
She coursed her trembling fingers over his bare chest. If her eyes had been open, they would’ve rolled back in their sockets. How could she have forgotten how fabulous his chest was? Smooth skin pulled taut across his broad shoulders, muscle stacked upon muscle, firm pecs that begged for her touch—sweet Lord she wanted to lick and touch and kiss every inch of him. His mouth was on hers again, kissing her with a hungry demand, his hands kneading her breasts. She knew from the way he kissed her that they were racing toward the point of no return. And why not? That entire summer they’d spent together, not once had she ever denied him. If he wanted her, she gave herself to him and vice versa. She didn’t want to deny him now either, but she knew that jumping into bed with him would be bad for both of them. There were too many unresolved issues and feelings.
“Ryan,” she whimpered, desperate to regain the slightest bit of self-control.
“Jess.” His hands left her breasts and went to her shorts, his long, strong fingers deftly undoing them and sliding into her panties. “God, I’ve missed you so damn much.”