Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) (10 page)

Strains of soft music floated through the air, relaxing, soothing. Candlelight flickered from the nightstand and dresser, scenting the room with hints of vanilla and something just a little spicy, something CC couldn't quite make out.

She hadn't figured Big Guy to be a candles-and-classical music kind of guy. It didn't matter that she had subtly suggested some music and candlelight. Well, maybe not so subtly. But he had taken her suggestion to heart, and she was surprised at the music choice when he turned on the small stereo in his room.

Surprised, but certainly not complaining. Right now, she was certain that even annoying techno-music wouldn't grate on her nerves, not when Dave's large hands were gliding over her body, his touch strong, soothing, relaxing.

Big Guy definitely had magic hands.

And she had to give him credit for following through on the bet. Granted, he had looked a little surprised when she pulled the massage oil from the small overnight bag she had stored in the saddlebag on her bike. Well, maybe the surprise was from seeing her pull out an overnight bag to begin with. But he didn't say anything, just kind of grunted and led her into his house.

She hadn't wasted time reminding him that he lost the bet. And she was due for a full body massage. Then she had climbed the stairs and found his room, stripped down, tossed him the massage oil, then sprawled face down on his bed.

And waited.

At least he caught on quick.

His hands paused in the middle of her lower back, just above the towel he had tossed over her bare ass.

Because he said he couldn't concentrate if he didn't cover her up.

CC turned her head into the pillow, trying to hide her smile as his hands hesitated, and she knew he was debating whether or not to move the towel. He lifted his hands from her back, then moved them to the tops of her thighs, just under the edge of the towel.

"That's cheating, Big Guy."

He grunted again, his hands sliding along her thigh, his thumbs kneading the muscles with long, deep strokes. CC exhaled slowly, her body melting even more under his touch.

"Good?"

"Hmm. Amazing." She sighed again and closed her eyes as his hands drifted down her leg to her calf, not hesitating, not pausing.

Like he didn't care that most of her calf was missing, like he didn't even notice it. Another part of her melted, that tiny part locked in a secret corner that she didn't even want to admit existed.

There was no way he could know how much that meant to her, how much his wordless acceptance warmed a piece of her she hadn't admitted needed reassurance.

His hands drifted down to her foot, pressing, squeezing before he stopped. He reached over her and she heard him squeeze more oil into his palm, heard the whisper of skin on skin as he warmed it between his hands before starting on her other leg. She sighed again, reveling in the heat of his hands, the strength of his touch.

"Roll over." His words were a husky command. She sighed, every muscle in her body relaxed as she tried to push up with her hands, to find the strength to do as he asked. His hands reached up and grabbed her shoulder, rolling her as she grabbed hold of the headboard for leverage to move.

She moved, planning on bringing her arms to her side, but stopped when he shook his head.

"No. Don't move." His dark eyes were intense, filled with a deep hunger as they grazed her body. They lingered on her breasts, thrust upward by the stretch of her arms above her head.

CC smiled, a slow sultry smile as she shifted just a bit, her hands closing more firmly on the headboard. "Like this?"

"Hm. Just like that."

He straddled her hips, the heaviness of his thick erection a drooling enticement as he leaned over her and grabbed the massage oil. He held the bottle more than a foot above her, tilting it until a fine stream of oil spilled out, drizzling over her chest, down her stomach. CC's breath hitched in her chest at the coolness of the oil against her skin, at the slide of the oil against her flesh as it ran over her nipples and down the side of her breasts.

Desire burned in Dave's eyes as he watched her, watched the trail of oil travel across her body. He reached down with one finger, traced the line of oil from her neck to her right breast, the short nail of his finger grazing the tight peak of her nipple. She sucked her breath in on a hiss, moved her hand to touch him.

His free hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, led it back to the headboard. "Don't move." He leaned down, nipped at her earlobe. "Or I'll have to get your handcuffs."

CC swallowed and groaned, desire instantly searing her as moisture pooled between her legs. Dave leaned back and grinned, his expression wicked, promising. She groaned again and tightened her hand around the headboard as he drew the tip of his finger down her neck, across to her other breast, across her nipple.

He shifted his body, sliding down so he straddled her thighs, the strength of his legs keeping her own closed. She tilted her head and watched as he brought his hands together and fanned them low across her stomach, his thumbs dipping lower, teasing her with the faintest of touches before he leaned forward. His hands drifted up, spreading at the base of her ribcage, up further, slowly, cupping the fullness of each breast in his hand. His hips dipped, just enough that the head of his cock slipped between her closed legs, torturing her, teasing her, making her back arch in need.

"Dave."

He moved his hips again, pulling away. "I said don't move."

CC groaned, biting her lip as his hands moved over her, slick and warm from the oil, from his own heat. Everywhere he touched, fire burned. Her stomach, her sides, her neck. He dragged his hands back down, closing over her breasts once more, squeezing, his thumbs teasing the tips of her nipples, turning the peaks harder.

Her head dropped back and she clenched her jaw, needing to move, needing to open her legs, needing him inside her. Now.

But his legs tightened even more around hers, imprisoning her as his hands continued their exploration, their torture. He shifted again, moving his hips, sliding up until he straddled her chest. His hands drifted to the sides of her breasts, pushing them together, and she felt the warm slide of his cock between them, slick with oil.

She opened her eyes and watched, licked her lips as his hands tightened around her breasts, holding them closer, his cock sliding in and out. Wetness coated her, desire thick, needy, pooling between her legs as her hips thrust under him.

Her eyes traveled up his body, over the muscles bunched in his arms, over the broad, muscular chest, sculpted by the hand of a master artist. Up to his throat, the pulse beat heavy and throbbing at the base. To his eyes, focused on her, dark with desire, sharp with need as he watched.

Watched her.

Watched the slide of his heavy cock between her breasts.

Her hands tightened against the headboard, so tight she could feel the wood digging into her fingers. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, her hips searching, mimicking each thrust of his own.

Flames licked her, tongues of fire dancing across her skin with each slide of his cock. Her hips thrust again as desire coiled tightly inside her, tighter, pulling, promising.

The climax crashed over her, surprising her with its arrival, with its intensity. Her back arched and she screamed Dave's name through clenched teeth, her body bucking beneath his.

He slid down her body, his strong hands spreading her legs and pulling them against his chest as he drove into her. His thick length pierced her, filling her, shattering her again and again. Her head tossed from side to side, her breathing ragged, harsh, short as he thrust into her, again and again.

Hard. Deep. Fast.

And suddenly it was too much, the sensation, the shattering. She screamed again and arched off the bed, her hands leaving the headboard and reaching down for him, needing to feel him, touch him.

Her fingers dug into his thighs, the corded muscle hard as steel under her touch. Waves continued to crash over her, molten lava, burning. Her nails raked his skin, it was too much, not enough, she wanted more, needed to feel him.

A deep growl, feral, needy, echoed around them. Dave's hands tightened around her legs, his hips pumping, his head thrown back as he spilled himself inside her.

Her fingers relaxed against his legs, her heart sliding back into her chest as his harsh breathing, their breathing, filled the room, drowning out all other sound.

Seconds ticked by as the last shudders drifted across her body, finally stilling. She took a deep breath, then another, trying to draw air into her lungs as Dave shifted. His hold on her legs gentled and he kissed the inside of her thigh, then gently eased her legs down to the bed. He shuddered once more then stretched out on top of her, his mouth hot on hers. He pulled away, his eyes still intense despite the small grin on his face. She returned the smile and reached up to touch his face, her fingers drifting into his hair.

"Wow." Her voice was hoarse, scratchy. Dave's grin widened and he leaned down, pressing a quick kiss against her lips. He dropped his forehead against hers and sighed as she ran her hands over his back, reveling in the bunching of muscles as she caressed him.

He shifted, his arms shaking slightly, then rolled to the side, draping his arm and leg over her and pulling her close. His mouth grazed the side of her neck, his teeth nipping at the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder, sending another shudder through her.

"I think that's the best bet I ever lost." His breath was warm against her skin, the smile in his words warming her inside. She shifted and rolled the tiniest bit, just so she could look at him. She reached up and traced the outline of his lips with the tip of one finger, marveling at their soft fullness on a man so big.

"Anytime you're ready to lose another one, Big Guy, just let me know."

He nipped her finger then reached out and tucked her head against his chest, his hand drawing lazy circles on her back. "I think I need a day to recuperate first. After that, you're on."

She laughed, then snuggled closer, the steady beat of his heart lulling her, pulling her into the grayness of slumber. CC blinked and shook it off, lifting her head so she could look down at him. His eyes were closed, his lashes long and dark against his skin.

"What are you doing next week?"

"Hm?" He opened his eyes and looked at her, his gaze sleepy and content. "This week coming up, or next?"

"Next."

He closed his eyes, his lips moving silently for a second, then opened them again. "Night work Monday and Tuesday. Why?"

"Can you take off?"

"Probably, if the calendar isn't full. Why?"

CC leaned over and pressed a kiss to his chin, then dropped her head back to his chest. She wasn't sure what had prompted her to ask, but now that she had, she felt shy about asking.

"Why?" Dave repeated the question, his hand tightening just a bit on her shoulder.

CC shrugged, still not looking at him, then let out a deep breath. "I have to run down home for a quick visit and was wondering if you wanted to go. No biggie if you don't, I know it's short notice and all."

Dave's hand drifted across her back then curled under her chin, turning her head so she was looking at him. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss against her temple then smiled.

"I'd love to."

CC smiled then dropped her head back to his chest. She had nearly drifted off when he spoke one last time, his voice thick with sleep.

"But we're not taking the motorcycle."

He heard the crunch-pop under the sole of his boot at the same time he felt the small piece of trash slide under his foot. He cursed and stepped back, looking down at what was left of a piece of granola bar smashed on the floor of the medic.

"Dammit."

Dave shoved the trash he was holding into the small plastic bag, then grabbed a gauze pad from the cabinet. It didn't come close to being a thorough cleaning job, but at least it was a start, something to do as he waited for Jimmy to come out. Then they'd give it a thorough cleaning, starting with a full sweeping.

Correction. Jimmy could sweep it out. Not because the mess was his fault. No, he'd stick his partner with the cleaning as payback for last weekend at Duffy's.

It wasn't the worse payback around, but it was a good start. And as much as he'd love to blame Jimmy for the mess, he knew he couldn't. Their last patient had been a hoarder, to the extent that his pockets had been filled with all sorts of food.

His pockets, his socks, even his underwear.

The thought made Dave seriously consider giving up eating. Forever.

Or at least until dinner.

He glanced around, seeing if he had missed anything else, then tied the trash bag and jumped out of the medic, slamming the door behind him. It shouldn't have been as trashed as it was, not for a simple chest pain call.

But the patient hadn't appreciated it when Jimmy tried to unbutton his shirt to place the monitor leads on his chest. The two of them had tussled, until the patient's stash had gone flying all over the back of the medic.

And most of the food hadn't been wrapped.

Dave muttered to himself then walked through the ER entrance, tossing the bag into the large trashcan as he walked by. His skin still felt like it was crawling and he resisted the urge to scratch, knowing that the itching was purely in his head.

So far, it had been a pretty interesting Sunday. But his shift was over in less than two hours. And about twelve hours after that, he'd be leaving with CC, heading down to South Carolina.

As soon as he found Jimmy, they could finish wiping down the medic, get back to the station. And then, soon, he could head home.

He couldn't remember the last time he had been so eager to get home.

"You look like the cat that ate the proverbial canary."

"Hm?" He looked up to see Jimmy walking down the hall toward him, clipboard dangling by his side. "I do?"

"Yeah, you do. You've got this shit-eating grin on your face. I'm not used to seeing it."

"Well, maybe you better get used to seeing it."

"Wouldn't have anything to do with a certain Flight Medic and you taking off night trick, would it?"

"Like I'd tell you if it did."

Jimmy pounded him on the back and laughed. "And you call yourself my partner. I'd tell you if there was anything interesting going on."

Dave looked over at him, then glanced down the hall to the triage desk. He shook his head, trying not to smile. "And since you're not, I can only guess that Sheila turned you down. Again."

"Hey, she's warming up to me. Eventually she'll say yes."

Dave didn't bother reminding Jimmy that nobody took him seriously, not with the way he flirted with every nurse here. His chance of getting any of them to say yes was slim.

They walked back outside and climbed into the medic, starting the process of cleaning and wiping everything down after Jimmy cleaned the floor. They used disinfectant on all the surfaces. More than once.

Jimmy tossed the last of the rags into a trash bag then looked over at Dave, his expression serious. "I want you to promise me something. As my partner."

Dave turned and watched him, his gaze skeptical and hesitant. "Depends. What is it?"

"Don't ever let me get like that old guy. Hoarding everything, afraid to let anything go. I can't imagine living like that, all alone with nothing but stuff."

"Jimmy, if you ever become a hoarder, I will personally make sure you're buried under your piles of possessions before you reach old age. Will that work?"

"You're cold, Dave. Real cold. I'm going to go dump this. Grab your phone, I hear it vibrating up front."

Dave shook his head at Jimmy's pout—and his keen hearing—then walked to the front of the medic and climbed into the passenger seat. He leaned over, searching through the center console until his hand closed over the phone. The thing vibrated in his hand and he turned it over, looking at the screen.

And felt his gut clench in anger at the text message.

I know what you did. Time is drawing closer.

His fingers tightened around the phone and he had the urge to throw it out the window, or smash it against the concrete.

But he didn't. He didn't do anything except stare at the message.

Nearly a month had passed since the incident at CC's house, and nothing had happened since then. No more texts, no more mysterious notes left behind. And he had started to relax, to think that they had stopped again.

That they had stopped for good.

But it had just been another false lull, a brief break, long enough for him to forget about them. And now here was another one, hurtling him back to reality. Only this one was different, vaguely more threatening.

Time is drawing closer.

Anger rushed through him and he clenched his jaw as he stared at the message. He was ready for this to end, ready to find out who was behind it, ready to put a stop to it.

"Then bring it on, you son of a bitch."

"What?"

Dave looked up as Jimmy climbed into the medic, then tucked the phone into his pocket and shook his head. "Nothing, I was just talking to myself."

Jimmy nodded and started the engine, then glanced over and grinned at him. "You know that's a sign of old age, right?"

Dave flipped him off then turned to look out the window, his mind whirling. He knew he needed to let CC know about the message, knew he needed to follow up with another report.

And he would. Tonight. When he got home.

Time is drawing near.

He hoped the hell it was, because he was more than ready for this to end.