“Still drinking that dishwater?” Ryan smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
She picked up her cup and raised it in a mock salute. “It’s better than that swill you boys drink at the fire hall.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” He sauntered across the room and leaned his hips against the edge of her desk. She couldn’t help but notice how his biceps flexed when he crossed his arms over his massive chest.
She was extremely aware of his presence. The heat and sheer sensual magnetism of the man was astounding. Her clothing always felt too tight whenever when he was near and, in spite of her best efforts, she always became aroused whenever he was around.
“I’ll stick to this.” She willed a call to come in. Anything. But the lines were all silent.
“I was wondering if you’d like to go out tomorrow night? Maybe have some dinner, take a walk on the beach?” His tone was easygoing, almost indifferent, but his eyes practically scorched her with barely banked desire.
She’d been expecting it. He’d asked her out before, several times, but she’d always declined. He took her refusal with equanimity and a smile, but always asked again. Taking a deep breath, she did what she knew she had to do. “I told you that I don’t date firefighters. You’ll have to respect my wishes on that.”
“Maybe I can change your mind. It’s only dinner and a walk. What can it hurt?”
It sounded so reasonable that she almost changed her mind.
Almost.
Rightly or wrongly, she had a deep-seated phobia of losing someone she loved to fire. The fear probably began during her childhood when she’d first been told the stories of Esther and James, and was solidified with the death of her father.
For a family steeped in the tragedy of fire, they all seemed to be drawn to it, tempted by its horrible beauty and power. Her father had been a firefighter and both her brothers were too. There was no way in hell she was getting romantically involved with one. She had more than enough nightmares now without adding to them.
She shook her head. “I’m sorry.” The words were bitter on her tongue, but she didn’t take them back.
He nodded and pushed away from her desk. “Maybe next time?”
It was what he said every time she turned him down.
He reached out as if to touch her, but dropped his hand back by his side. He turned and strode away. He didn’t look back. She knew because she couldn’t tear her gaze away from him.
By the time she got home from work the next morning and crawled into bed, she was exhausted. Her thoughts still went immediately to Ryan.
What would it have felt like to have his hands on her? What would she have done if he’d reached out and touched her? Esther groaned and rolled onto her back, cursing the man. Why couldn’t he just leave her alone? That was what she wanted. Wasn’t it?
Of course it was, she assured herself. She was just exhausted and desperately needed to sleep. That was the only reason she was thinking about Ryan touching her, stroking those large, broad hands over every square inch of her skin. He’d start at her ankles and slide his hands up her calves and thighs, over her belly and torso. Her breasts felt heavy and it was all too easy to imagine his palms covering them, stroking them.
Her breathing quickened and she bit her lip as a throbbing began low in her belly. She was aroused, but she didn’t want to be. She was tired, but too wound up to sleep. She thought about dragging out her vibrator, but knew it wouldn’t satisfy her. The longing within her went too deep to be satisfied by a battery-operated machine. She wanted to feel the weight of a man over her and around her as he thrust deep into her body.
Groaning, she flopped over onto her side and tried to stop thinking about Ryan and their two sweaty bodies sliding together. The weather had turned unseasonably warm in the last two days and the slight breeze blowing in through the window did little to dispel the heat within her. She forced herself to take one deep breath and then another and another. Finally the tension began to fade. Her breathing evened out and her limbs relaxed.
The dream began as it always did…
Strong arms wrapped around her from behind, one supporting her head, the other tucked around her waist. She could feel the hard plane of his chest against her back and sense the tension in his body. His erection was pressed against the curve of her behind, hot and hard and ready.
She couldn’t resist pushing her ass against him, smiling to herself when he groaned. His rumble of pleasure vibrated against her skin.
Warm lips pressed against her nape, moving slowly down to the curve of her back. The caress sent shivers racing down her spine. Curling her feet behind her, she rubbed them up and down the front of his hair-roughened calves.
He sighed, his breath ruffling her hair. The hand at her waist journeyed inward until it rested flat against her stomach. His fingertips grazed her ribs as he moved upward so that his knuckles were barely touching the undersides of her breasts.
Her breathing quickened. That slight caress, the barely there touch, made her nipples tighten in anticipation. “Please,” she whispered.
His palm cupped the slight weight of her breast for a brief moment before covering it. Esther sighed with pleasure. The hardened tip stabbed at the center of his palm and she leaned forward, fitting her breast tighter against his hand.
“You are so beautiful.” His low whisper sent goose bumps racing down her arms and chest. She wasn’t beautiful, just average, but he made her feel sexy, pretty and wanted.
His every touch was slow and reverent as he stroked first one breast before shifting his attention to the other. His fingers played with her nipples until they were both puckered tight and extremely sensitive.
Her hips began to move of their own accord, a seductive rhythm that had her pressing hard against his erection, retreating and then pushing back again. Cream slipped from her core, arousing her, preparing her for what was to come.
His large hand gave her breast one final squeeze before sliding down the center of her torso, and then lower still. Her breath caught in her throat as his fingers sifted through her pubic hair.
“Part your legs.”
She widened her legs and he hooked his ankle beneath hers. The motion pulled her leg slightly backward, letting it drape over his. His hand delved between her thighs, his fingers skimming her damp, heated flesh.
Reaching behind her, she dug her fingernails into his firm butt, tugging him closer. His erection pulsed heavily against her bottom. She wanted that hardness in her, plunging and withdrawing again and again until they were both screaming with pleasure.
His thumb grazed the tiny bud of nerves at the apex of her thighs. Esther cried out as bolts of lightning shot through her. Her entire body was alive, all her nerve endings raw.
She needed.
She wanted.
“Now,” she cried, angling her lower body to try to get him inside her.
He moved behind her, pulling away.
“No!” She dug her fingers into his hips, trying to keep him from leaving her like this.
“I need to change position, Esther.” His voice was ragged with need and sounded as desperate as her own. She forced herself to release her grip on him, allowing him to move. The leg she had draped over his was lifted higher and then she felt the blunt tip of his erection at her opening.
Esther held her breath when he surged forward, pushing the head of his cock inside. Her inner muscles clutched at him, trying to pull him deeper into her heat.
Thrusting his hips forward, he surged inward. In this position, he felt positively huge, stretching her sensitive channel to accommodate his impressive length and girth. She was surrounded, filled by him. But it still wasn’t enough. Esther shoved her hips back, taking him deeper.
His arm tightened around her waist as he began to slowly rock them. She twisted her head, wanting to see his face. “James,” she breathed his name and he stopped. Her eyes narrowed as his features came more into focus. “Ryan?” Confusion swamped her.
His lips thinned and determination filled his face. Her mind was whirling even as her body cried out for completion. “You promised me.” His words echoed in her brain like a long-forgotten memory.
He withdrew almost all the way out and drove forward again, surging into her willing body. She was so close to coming, her body winding tighter and tighter with every thrust.
“Ryan,” she gasped. She didn’t know what to say, what to do.
“Let it happen, Esther. Let me love you.”
There was no way she could deny him. She wanted him more than she wanted her next breath. As though sensing her acquiescence, his pace increased, his hips flexing faster and faster.
She felt the first quivers of her impending orgasm, tiny spasms deep in her core. Closing her eyes, she savored every thrust. Their bodies were damp with perspiration, their skin sliding together as he made love to her.
The harsh crackling noise had her eyes shooting open. Fear filled her belly, driving out all pleasure. “Ryan.” She hated the way her voice quivered, but she couldn’t stop it.
“There’s nothing to worry about.” He continued to thrust. “Nothing,” he promised.
The sound got louder and she swiveled her head until she found the source. Flames engulfed the drapes, consuming them like a great, hungry beast.
Esther screamed, but Ryan seemed oblivious.
“We have to get out.” She tried to shove away from him, but he strengthened his hold, keeping her solidly against him.
They were going to burn alive.
“Ryan!” she screamed his name, kicking and pushing at him. They had to get away. The fire was growing, the heat rising around them. She screamed his name again and again. Finally, he released her. She tried to scramble away, but the sheets were tangled around her legs, trapping her.
The flames leapt toward the bed in a fiery rush…
Esther jerked awake, her breathing ragged, her heart pounding so hard in her ears that she couldn’t hear. Blindly, she flung her hand outward. It struck the lamp on the bedside table, almost toppling it before she was able to right it. Her hand shook as she flicked it on. The sheets were wrapped around her legs and she fought free of them. Sweat plastered her nightgown to her body.
“There is no fire. There is no fire. It was just a dream.” She had no idea how many times she repeated those phrases before she began to believe them and the panic slowly receded.
Burying her face in her hands, she desperately tried to gain control of herself. She took a deep breath and then another. Gradually, her heartbeat returned to normal, but the dread remained in the pit of her stomach, burning like acid.
Once again her dreams had tangled the past with the present, her life right now with that of her ancestor’s. The dreams were always worse this time of year. Even though James and Esther were married after the Samhain celebration, it was that day that was the worst of all. She knew that many cultures believed that the veils between the worlds of the living and the dead were the thinnest that day. All Esther knew was she wanted it over and done with. She couldn’t take many more dreams like this.
Now that her nerves were calming, she was aware of the pulsing low in her belly. She was still aroused, almost painfully so, but there was no relief in sight.
She glanced at the clock and sighed. A beam of sunlight peeked through a crack in the blinds. She’d drawn them shut before she’d gone to bed this morning, hoping the darkness would allow her to sleep. She hadn’t slept as long as she’d wanted, but there was no hope for it now. She knew there was no way she was going to get any more rest. Throwing back the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the bed.
Maybe a cold shower would help.
Somehow she doubted it.
Chapter Five
So much for her day off.
Esther had barely crawled out of the shower when the phone rang. One of the other dispatchers had to go home sick and they hadn’t been able to reach anyone else. Could she come in to cover the rest of the shift?
It was only for a few hours, and Esther normally didn’t mind covering for a co-worker. What she didn’t want to do was to run into Ryan. She’d been working hard lately, and the strange dreams and restless nights were beginning to take their toll on her. She’d really been looking forward to her three days off to get her equilibrium back.
Still, her boss promised her an extra day off to make up for it, so she couldn’t complain. The extra day would take her well past Samhain, which was tomorrow. She hoped the dreams and the restless feelings would have abated by the time she got back to work, and her emotions would be under control once again.
The cold shower had helped to revive her somewhat, but it hadn’t helped to dispel the low-level arousal that still thrummed through her veins. As always, her dream was interrupted before she reached completion, turning to a nightmare instead. She was a woman in dire need of an orgasm. Still, there was nothing she could do about it right now. No time to make good use of her vibrator. Esther decided that if she ignored it long enough the hot, tingly sensation engulfing her body would go away.
Without much time to get ready, Esther swiped her damp hair back from her face and fastened it at her nape with an ornate silver clip. Putting on a bra was torture. The silky fabric brushed against her nipples, causing them to pucker almost painfully taut. Putting on her panties was almost as bad. She’d opted away from pantyhose and tugged on thigh-high stockings instead.
Grabbing the first thing she found in her closet, she pulled on a three-quarter-length denim skirt and a white blouse. The blouse had a stand-up collar and was fitted to the curve of her body. It looked casual, yet sophisticated at the same time.
At the last second, she dragged on a light coating of lipstick but ignored the rest of her makeup routine. There just wasn’t time. She didn’t even bother to eat, knowing there would be something in the break room at work she could nibble on when she got there.
By the time she sat at her console and began to work, she felt as if she were back in control of herself—physically and emotionally. The place was hopping when she went in, so it took her an hour before she could break away and head to the lunchroom to brew a cup of tea and grab a snack. Her stomach was rumbling, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since the night before.