Sizzle (St. Martin Family Saga): Emergency Responders (13 page)

12

C
lay had just
returned from a fire. He needed a shower, would have loved to have Eve give him one. Or better still, one of her baths. He’d thought of the one he gave her when he could barely move and his dick grew hard. It happened ever time he thought of that night. Unfortunately he had a meeting in fifteen minutes so he had to hurry.

Stepping into the old brick shower at the station he thought of her as he scrubbed away dirt and grime. Over the last week, Eve did in fact wait for Clay to return home from the station in exactly that same manner—naked and in his bed. Clay would have her as soon as he returned, several times during the night, and once or twice in the mornings. He couldn’t get enough of her. He would leave her and become immediately hard thinking of his return home. He’d never met a woman who could satisfy him fully, but this woman, God, she was able to satisfy his body, mind, and soul. Wanting her was like an obsession. The sex was incredible, but he constantly thought about her, about her laugh, her always-busy hands—folding, sewing, typing, and tidying—her eyes and all their different shades, her generous spirit, her pain and hurt. She’d taken to calling him lover and every time she did it felt like an electric current passed through his body.

Stepping from the shower he dried his body with the towel but he couldn’t shake Eve from his mind—didn’t want to. He thought she was the most genuine person he’d ever met and that he might be able to leave bondage behind. But even as he thought that, the images started to flood his brain. Eve on her knees with her arms bound behind her; Eve’s ankles bound and her legs open, her at his mercy; Eve blindfolded. He felt guilty thinking about doing those things to her after what she’d been through. He wished he could just be normal.

His club days were over; he didn’t need the place with her in his bed. She satisfied his passions, but the thought of her beauty bound under layers of natural rope drove his mind and body wild with lust for her. If she would submit by giving all of herself to him completely, he could help her let go of the past that haunted her. She could replace painful memories with new ones. With oh-so-wonderful ones. He’d have her on the brink of climax all day, thinking of his touch, waiting for him to relieve her. He knew he could diminish memories of the man who’d brought her pain, replace them with sensual and erotic memories of nothing but pleasure, but how could he even ask after what she’d been through?

He dressed in a fresh shirt and pants and, with a smile on his face, placed the dirty uniform in the duffel bag Eve had given him for that purpose. He liked how thoroughly she tended to his needs. All of them.

Clay had given Augie the name of Eve’s ex. He’d even gone so far as to hire a private detective—a family friend. He needed to know the guy’s every move if he was to properly look after Eve. He’d ordered a surveillance system for the house too. If Nicolas Renaud dared to show his face, if he dared to come after Eve, Clay would be ready and waiting.

*

Once the floodwaters began to recede and the power came back on, people moved back into the city and daily life started to get back to normal. As Clay had said, the home Eve had been renting was destroyed, as was Ruth’s. Thankfully, Ruth’s son finally got into the city and he took her to live out the remainder of her days at his home, hurricane free.

Eve looked out the kitchen window, checking on the chickens, thankful that Clay’s house had not only stood strong, but that he’d had the foresight to stock up on batteries and perishables such as water, bread, and milk,
and
that he’d been prepared with a working generator. But the man was resourceful and trained; of course he’d be prepared for a hurricane.

Eve still didn’t have a place to live but had been searching for another home. When Clay saw the rental agreement he told her she wasn’t going anywhere. She smiled at the memory. To be honest. she didn’t want to leave, but she’d needed to hear it from his lips.

She knew she loved Clay. She also knew the moment that love started. It had been exactly two weeks ago when he’d come back for her and Ruth. Selfless and brave he’d battled the floodwaters. She now thought of him as her gentle giant, and it seemed her gentle giant had a fetish: he liked M&M’s. Every night he ate two handfuls out of a candy jar he kept on the bedside table. He’d finished off the jar last night, but this morning she’d walked, with firefighter escort, to the drugstore and bought more. She’d also stopped by the post office, hoping her replacement credit card would be there, but it wasn’t. She’d caught up on her emailing and blogging quite early—since she was already up after eating breakfast with Clay—and she’d even managed to make four dozen M&M’s cookies.

And now she wanted a nap.

But she needed to get the cookies over to the firehouse for the guys’ lunch. She and Clay had argued about her walks. The only place he’d allow her to walk without an escort was to and from the station. It was a little ridiculous but exactly what she’d wanted—a man to care for her deeply and to fuss over her. She luxuriated in it.

As she walked to the station, a cute little golden nugget of a dog trotted up to her. He had a papillon’s ears, but clearly there was some terrier in him. His ears were disproportionate to his body and stood up like satellite dishes, and his shiny button eyes brimmed with intelligence. Eve reached between his ears and scratched. With her voice pitched higher than usual, she said, “Where’d you come from, little one?”

The dog stuck his nose to the plastic wrap on the plate of cookies and whimpered.

“Are you hungry?” She reached under the wrap and pulled out a cookie. The little nugget stood on two legs and raised his front two paws in the air as he diligently watched her break the cookie into pieces and separate out the chocolate. When she was done, she lowered her hand to him, and he ate as if ravenous.

“Goodness, you’re hungry.”

The dog wore no collar. She broke another cookie and fed it to him.

“Sweetie, I’ve got to go. Go on home, little buddy.” She petted between his ears. As she walked away, the dog ran along behind her. She stopped and turned to him. “Are we friends now?” The dog twirled in a circle and panted excitedly. “It isn’t me you have to convince; you’ll need to impress the master.”

*

Clay stood at the bay doors sipping coffee and watching Eve as she walked toward the station. When he saw the furball approach Eve, he was about to run across the street, but it became clear the dog was harmless. Many stray dogs had emerged once the waters started to recede. Some were hungry, others were injured and rabid; he had already had to deal with a few. He watched her feed it and walk away, but the dog followed. She turned and squatted to it once more. The dog licked her face, and she squeezed it into her arms, and now she was headed his way. It looked like he’d acquired one beautiful woman, six noisy chickens, and one strange-looking dog as a result of the storm.

When Eve reached the station, she set the dog on the ground and it followed her in through the open bay. When the guys seated around the garage saw Eve bearing cookies, they attacked her. Clay strode up to her and made a huge production of kissing her and taking three cookies for himself. He lifted the plate from her hands and set it on the table so the men would stop attacking his woman.

He pointed to the dog at Eve’s feet. “What’s that?”

She giggled. “It’s a dog. He followed me here.”

Yet another male to fight for her attention. Since she’d been bringing pies and various other treats to the station, the guys had been falling all over themselves whenever she came around. They’d flirt with her and tell her dumb jokes to make her laugh. A few of them had made the mistake early on of teasing him about rescuing a damsel in distress and dragging her by the hair back to his lair where he kept her tied up and at his beck and call. He’d gone ballistic.

Hell, he’d deserved a fair amount of that since most of them knew he was a member of the Hoodoo Pot.

At the local superstore he’d managed to get her some shorts that came to her knees instead of just below her ass. When he’d made it known that he missed the tiny shorts, she’d taken to wearing those around the house just for him, and he loved that.

She picked up the dog and talked to it in a mothering voice. “Are you thirsty too? Poor little guy.” She marched straight to the kitchen, found a small bowl, poured the pooch some water, and set it on the floor next to him. And next to Clay. The dog lapped it up like he hadn’t had fresh water in days. Clay supposed it could be true.

“Will we be keeping him, then?”

She flashed him with large and shimmering gray eyes. “Maybe he could be a fire dog. You know, ride on the truck with you and all.”

He threw his head back and howled loudly, huge booming laughter erupting from deep in his belly. The dog was ridiculous looking and would be make them the laughingstock of Baton Rouge. Maybe all of Louisiana.

Eve pushed her hands to her hips. Then she smiled. And then she curled her finger in his hair and spoke in a low, sultry voice in his ear. “Pardon me, sir, but did you want a willing and eager woman naked and writhing in your bed when you got home?” He looked at her with heat in his eyes.

“That’s better. You know I don’t like when you laugh at me.”

Fuck, it drove him wild when she talked like that. She’d made the mistake of calling him sir when they argued about her taking off on foot to walk to the supermarket, library, and the post office. He’d said it wasn’t safe and had forbade her to do it again, told her all she had to do was call the station and he’d send over a probie to take her where she needed to go or escort her if she wanted to walk. When he asked if she understood, she’d pertly answered, “Yes, sir!” They’d spent the rest of the day tangled in the bed sheets. Now she called him sir when she was serious or when she was aroused.

His dick was getting hard just thinking about the raspy words she’d whispered in his ear.

That was the moment Jack chose to wander over to tell Clay that Augie was in the office with information for him. Jack then stood back, taking in the state of Clay’s arousal. “You gonna be okay there, buddy? There are a couple of treatments for that, you know.”

He grumbled, “Fuck off, Jack.”

Jack threw his arms up and walked off laughing. Eve was smiling and cuddling that stupid dog. He didn’t want to intrude on her happiness, but she needed to hear what Augie had on Renaud.

“You want to find out what Nicolas has been up to?”

Eve’s eyes grew wide. Clay held his arm open, and she walked over to snuggle into his side.

“I want you to meet my sheriff friend. He’s run some background on the bastard.”

Her expression was guarded, but she quietly answered, “Okay.”

“How ’bout a cup of coffee?” She nodded. He poured coffee into the
World’s #1 Fireman
mug they all fought over.

She pushed close to him and whispered, “You never told me why he’s wearing a maid’s uniform.”

He turned to see Keith scratching his ass as he stirred a pot of beans at the stove. He was wearing department-issue boots paired with the maid outfit. Some of the lace had torn and now sagged pitifully.

He whispered back, “He’s losing it.” He used his index finger to trace a circle in the air around his ear to indicate the boy was crazy.

She giggled, but when Keith turned, she stopped and covered her laughter with a cough.

Clay set the mug of coffee on the huge stainless steel island. “Ready?”

She had the little dog in her arms again, but dumped him on Clay so she could carry her coffee and a couple of cookies she snatched up from the near empty plate.

The dog licked his face. “
Ugh
. Perfect.” He heard a throaty giggle emerge from the woman beside him. It was warm and full of desire.

And suddenly, utterly happy, he smiled.

*

Clay ushered her into his office, leaving the dog outside. He nodded to the other man in the room.

“Eve, meet Sheriff Augustine Roy.”

Augie extended his hand. “Eve, It’s a pleasure. I’ve heard way too much about you. And please, call me Augie.”

Clay punched him in the shoulder.

“It’s nice to meet you.” Her voice was low. She’d heard a bit about him too, knew he and Clay were quite close.

He was extremely good looking. He wasn’t as tall or as large around as Clay, but he stood with a cocky confidence that made him sexy. His body was hard, and he had a mop of dirty-blond hair—messy but cute—and chocolate-brown eyes. He sported a sarcastic smirk that seemed to be his natural state and that further contributed to his sexiness. His T-shirt was blue and his jeans worn and faded. His clothes fit him snugly and accentuated his bulging muscles. The huge belt buckle adorning his waist had an eagle on it, and she decided he fit the proverbial southwest-Louisiana persona. She was immediately comfortable with him.

She knew that Clay and Augie had been friends since childhood and that they fished and went to clubs together. Women must have fallen all over themselves at the sight of the duo, dressed to impress. She’d like to witness that.