Breaking Protocol (Firehouse Fourteen Book 3) (5 page)

And she did have nice curves. He'd have to be a blind monk not to appreciate them. Her body was fit and toned, he knew that from the brief time it had been pressed against him this morning. But she wasn't lean, wasn't stick thin, wasn't the kind of woman you'd be afraid to break if you held her too hard. She had curves. Nice, soft, full feminine curves, the kind that could cushion a man in all the right places if he was stretched out on top of her, driving deep—

He choked on a swallow of ice cream, so hard that tears welled in his eyes. Holy shit, where had that thought come from? He squeezed his eyes shut and coughed some more, trying to push the clear image from his mind. He had no business thinking like that, no business imagining how the woman across from him would look lying naked beneath him.

He choked again, his mind screaming
Liar
! He had been imagining just that since she had left his house this morning, he just didn't want to admit it.

"You okay over there?"

"Yeah." He coughed once more, cleared his throat. But he couldn't look at her, not when he was certain she would see every single thought reflected in his eyes. "Yeah. I'm fine."

She murmured something he couldn't make out and went back to her sundae. He looked down, surprised to see his was gone. And he searched his mind, looking for something to talk about, something safe and innocent to pass the time while she finished hers. His mind latched onto the one topic he figured was safe, grabbing at it with the desperation of a dying man.

"So how long have you been a Flight Medic?"

CC looked up at him through lowered lids, a smile lifting one corner of her mouth. She swallowed then chuckled. "Uh oh. Looks like we're treading in the safe harbor of small talk. And work is a safe topic, right?"

Dave opened his mouth to apologize, he wasn't sure why, but she waved her hand between them, stopping him.

"No, it's all good." She took another bite of sundae, wiped her full mouth on a napkin, then sat back in her chair. "Eight years. I got my degree in Biological Sciences when I was twenty-one, along with my paramedic certification. I started applying around back home when I saw the notice for Flight Medic up here. I applied and got in, went through the academy, and thought I'd have to wait for a spot to open up. But they had open slots so I got moved over right after graduation. And here I am. How about you?"

"I've been in for twelve years, paramedic the entire time."

"Wow. The abbreviated version. I like it. Most times, guys won't shut up about themselves." She tilted her head, her long hair falling over one shoulder with the movement. "But somehow I get the impression that you don't open up much to anyone, so I'll stop myself from being too impressed."

Dave didn't say anything, once again not sure how to respond. It wasn't a feeling he was used to, and he was fairly certain he didn't like it. But CC didn't seem to notice. Or, if she did, she didn't say anything, just picked up the conversational ball and rolled with it.

"Let's see, what else would you like to know? I'm twenty-nine. Never been married. I'm originally from Georgetown, South Carolina. Middle child, only girl, Lord help me. Family is still all back home. I live by myself. No boyfriend, no pets, no kids." She paused, watching him, then smiled. "Okay, now it's your turn."

"My turn?"

"Yes, silly, that's how it works. I tell you about myself, then you tell me about yourself. Now it's your turn. Besides, my ice cream is melting."

He sat, stunned, as she went back to her sundae, her attention divided between what was left of the gooey monstrosity and him. But he didn't think for a minute that he could get away without answering, so he sat back in his own chair and let out a deep breath.

"Thirty-two. Lived in Maryland all my life. One sister. A father I haven't seen in almost ten years." Okay, he hadn't expected to tell her that. He reached down and grabbed the plastic spoon, rolling it back and forth in his hands. "Never been married. No girlfriend, no kids, no pets."

"See, already we have lots in common. Older or younger?"

"Pardon?"

"Your sister. Is she older or younger?"

"Younger. By almost eight years."

"Does she live with you? Or do you have that big house all to yourself?"

Dave clenched his jaw, surprised to feel irritation at the question. But if CC noticed, she didn't say anything, just looked at him with curiosity. He let out a heavy sigh and tossed the spoon back on the tray. "She moved out a few months ago, and I'm pretty sure she's going to be moving in with her boyfriend soon. He just bought a house."

"You don't sound happy about that."

Dave sighed and closed his eyes, thinking before he answered. Despite their recent estrangement, and all the reasons for it, he wanted to be happy for Angie. He
should
be happy for her. But he realized part of him was still pissed about how the entire thing had been handled, by all three of them. And for some reason, he didn't mind admitting it to the woman in front of him. He opened his eyes to find her watching him, and gave her a small shrug. "Her boyfriend is a firefighter from my station that I've worked with for the last six years."

"Oh, I see." She nodded and finished the last bite of her sundae, then pushed the bowl to the middle of the table. And Dave realized she did see, that she understood without him trying to explain the tangle of illogical emotions that surrounded the entire situation.

Some of the tension left him, surprising him because he hadn't even realized he had been tense. He wasn't sure what to make of that.

"So what now, Big Guy?"

He looked up, not knowing how to read her question, not sure how to answer. And he realized that he seemed to be like that quite a bit around her: uncertain, never quite sure what was coming next. It was an unsettling realization, especially considering he had just met her.

Or maybe that was the reason behind the uncertainty.

"No idea, huh?" CC pushed back from the table and stood, then reached over and gathered their empties, placing everything neatly on the tray. "Well, I'm in the mood for a swim. You're more than welcome to join me."

He watched as she carried the tray to the counter, his eyes automatically dropping to her ass, hugged in faded denim. "I didn't bring a bathing suit."

CC turned back to him, one feathered brow lifted delicately as a smile spread across her face. "It's dark. Who needs a suit?"

A sudden desire that had nothing to do with swimming flooded through him, surprising him. Dave pushed back from the table and stood, one corner of his mouth tilting in a grimace that should have been a smile.

Because swimming suddenly sounded like the perfect way to end the night.

CC dropped her keys on the coffee table and kept walking, Dave following her as she moved to the small hallway closet. He stopped and looked around, looking out of place and uncomfortable in all the color surrounding him.

"Nice place."

"So says the Big Guy with a scowl on his face." CC laughed as she pulled two fluffy beach towels from the closet, then wedged her hip against the door to close it all the way.

"No, it is. It's just..." His voice trailed off as he looked around him, and she knew exactly what he was going to say. Too bright, too colorful.

Too girlie.

He stood in the middle of the living room, surrounded by overstuffed furniture and bold splashes of blues and reds and greens. Bright, vibrant colors, full of life.

She threw one of the towels in his direction. "Not beige?"

His hands closed around the ball of material, fumbling a bit before folding it under one arm. He frowned, not missing her reference to the neutral décor that furnished his own house, then shook his head. "Definitely not beige, no."

She laughed and led the way out back, pausing on the porch to remove her boots and socks. She didn't look behind her, didn't pause or stop to think, just pulled her shirt over her head and tossed it on the wicker sofa then headed out the door and down the steps. The grass was damp under her bare feet, tickling her soles as she made her way to the pier. She heard Dave following behind her, heard him muttering under his breath. She couldn't catch the words, but the tone made her smile.

Confusion, bewilderment, disbelief. She had the impression he didn't do much spontaneously, and that he wasn't quite sure what to make of her.

Which suited her just fine.

She reached the pier and kept going, not stopping until she was at the end. She placed her towel on the bench then unsnapped her jeans and shimmied out of them. She folded them and placed them next to her towel, then stepped out of her underwear and tossed them on top. She turned, smiling when she saw Dave standing a few feet away, frozen as he watched her, hunger flashing in the depths of his eyes. She held his gaze as she reached behind her and unhooked her bra, letting the lacy material slide down her arms. His gaze dropped, settling on the fullness of her breasts.

She saw him swallow and she smiled again as she tossed the bra on top of her clothes. She straightened, letting him watch her for a few long seconds, then she turned and dove off the pier.

Cool water sluiced over her body, invigorating, refreshing. She glided under the water for a minute, then kicked to the surface and turned onto her back, treading water as she faced the pier.

Dave was standing at the end, uncertainty clear in every line of his body as he looked out over the water. He took a deep breath then peeled off his shirt, moonlight caressing his broad chest. CC watched, waiting, her breath held as his fingers worked the zipper of his jeans. He pushed them down to his hips then paused, his eyes finding hers.

"How deep is it?" His voice was deep, gruff. Uncertain.

She swallowed a groan, the anticipation almost killing her. Didn't he realize how much she wanted to see him? All of him, that magnificent body bared to just the moon—and her eyes. Was he deliberately teasing her, or was he really that obtuse?

She lowered her face into the water and exhaled through her mouth, bubbles of frustration breaking the smooth dark surface. He must be obtuse. She didn't think he had a teasing bone in his body.

She swam a little closer to the pier and looked up at him. "Deep enough. You're not going to break your neck diving in, if that's what you're worried about."

He frowned and she held her breath, waiting. And finally, finally, he pushed the jeans down and off. And he had been going commando all night, because there he was, bared to her hungry eyes in his full glory.

She sunk a little lower in the water, hiding her smile of appreciation at what she saw. Dear sweet Jesus, there was a little slice of heaven right there, bared in all its glory for her eyes only.

And yeah,
little
it wasn't.

He caught her looking at him and another frown crossed his face before he dove in, splitting the water in a smooth arc as he disappeared beneath the surface.

But not before she had seen his impressive anatomy harden, lengthen under her gaze. She smiled then swam away from the pier, guessing, judging before she stopped.

And smiled even more when Dave surfaced less than a foot away with a gasp of surprise.

"Holy shit, why didn't you tell me how cold it was?"

"Not too cold, I hope." She gave him a meaningful smile, laughing at the embarrassment on his face as he caught her meaning. She smacked her hand against the surface, splashing him, then kicked off and swam away.

Her strokes were long and powerful, her muscles stretching, warming, with each movement. Water caressed her skin, cool against her flesh, but doing nothing to calm the fire burning inside, simmering beneath the surface of her skin.

She dove, kicking down, down until her hand sunk into the soft mud at the bottom. She flipped then turned, closing her legs in one powerful kick before shooting to the surface. Water dripped from her hair, running into her face, and she tossed her head, flipping the wet hair out of her eyes, then turned back toward the pier. Dave was treading water, watching her, his eyes following her every move until she stopped next to him.

"You know, the whole purpose of swimming is to actually move around and swim."

"Hm?" He blinked and shook his head, as if just remembering where he was and what he was doing. She moved a little closer, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body through the water separating him. His eyes caught hers, burning, intense. The urge to tease him vanished, replaced with a different urge, stronger, more primal.

She reached her hand toward him, her fingers brushing against the hardness of his broad chest. His breath hissed between them, his body tightening beneath her touch. Time slowed, the air around them becoming heavy, thick.

One of his arms came around her, pulling her through the water until their bodies pressed together. She wrapped her legs around his waist, the rigid length of his erection hard against her bottom. All she had to do was tilt her hips, thrust toward him and—

His mouth crashed down on hers, hungry, feeding. She groaned as his tongue swept against hers, a frenzy of need exploding with each touch. Her body melted against his, heat exploding between them.

She wanted, needed. All of him.

She broke away with a groan of desperation then kicked off, shooting through the water until she reached the pier. Her hand closed around the ladder and she turned, facing him with a smile.

"As much as I want this, I don't want to drown doing it. Come here."

But he didn't move and for a long minute she mentally swore at herself, wondering if she had just ruined everything. If, by moving away too soon, she had given him time to think about what they were doing.

Time to change his mind.

But then he was next to her, moving so quickly she didn't see him, just felt the warmth of his large, hard body next to hers. His mouth was on hers again, his hands gliding over her breasts, her waist, her thighs. His touch was hungry, desperate, feeding on her own hunger. She wrapped her legs around him, her hips searching until the tip of his cock was pressed against her, throbbing, ready.

He pulled his mouth from hers, a scowl on his face. "I don't have any condoms—"

"I'm on birth control." She tilted her hips, rubbing against him, wondering what he would say, what he would do. His jaw clenched and his head tilted back, but only for a second before he looked at her again.

"That's not the only thing to worry about."

"I'm tested regularly. Part of the job. Not that I've ever had to worry." She rolled her hips against once more, waiting. "You?"

He groaned, shook his head. "Clean. No worries."

The words hung between them, expectant, cautious, begging for a trust that hadn't yet been earned. CC still didn't know what had gotten into her, why she was so willing to cross lines that she had never crossed before. Why she was so willing to trust the man in front of her. She only knew it was right.

And it was what she wanted. Reckless, dangerous, and all too tempting.

Dave's eyes captured hers, dark, intense, studying her too closely. But she didn't look away, could hardly breathe as he watched her. Then he groaned, the sound deep and strangled, before his mouth crashed against hers once more. Was he feeling just as reckless, just as dangerous as she? Or was she only imagining his hunger, projecting her own onto him?

He deepened the kiss, his body moving closer against hers, his hands drifting along her legs, kneading, caressing. Down her thighs, to her knees, bending and spreading her legs as his cock teased her.

Down further to her calves.

And then he froze, his eyes snapping open and impaling her with an expression she couldn't read. She swallowed and reached above her, her hands closing around each side of the ladder, supporting her as his right hand gently caressed her calf, feeling, searching. Learning.

"What happened?" His voice was rough, hoarse, hollow in the echo of the night and water around them. She saw curiosity in his gaze, curiosity and concern.

But not revulsion, not judgment.

Her heart squeezed, beat hard for a few seconds, then melted, sending a different kind of warmth through her. She smiled and tilted her hips against him.

"Do you really want to talk about this now?"

"No. God, no." He growled and slid his hands to her hips, his fingers digging into her flesh as he drove into her in one sudden thrust, spreading her, filling her.

Her head dropped back as sound escaped her, part scream, part moan, loud and long. Her legs spread wider as she took all of him in, deep, hard. He held himself still, his mouth nipping at the flesh between her neck and shoulder as a shudder went through him.

"Jesus, you're so fucking tight. Tight and wet."

She smiled then bit down on her lower lip as he pulled out, pushed back in. Slow, agonizingly slow, teasing. She wanted more, all of it. Hard, fast, deep.

But his hands tightened against her hips, his grip on her a vice, holding her still as he moved against her, inside her, slow, so slow.

His teeth nipped her flesh again, then moved up her neck, nibbling her ear, tasting, teasing, as he pulled out, then entered her again. Slow, pushing against her, his hips grinding into hers.

Her head drifted back, resting against the step of the ladder as her hands held tight above her. Liquid fire, hot, searing, shot out from her center, down along her limbs, melting her inside and out. And still Dave moved slowly, each thrust, each withdrawal smooth, deliberate, teasing.

Driving her insane, driving her to the brink of surrender. And she realized that, in this, she had no control. By backing herself against the ladder for support, she had inadvertently given him all control.

In this, at least, she was willing to surrender.

His lips closed over hers, swallowing her small cries as his tongue thrust into her, tasting, claiming as his hips mimicked the motion. Stronger, harder, just a little faster.

Her legs tightened around him, holding him closer, her heels digging into the tight muscles of his ass. He thrust into her, filling her, pulled back, then thrust again. Her muscles quivered, tightened around him, desperate to hold him inside her.

He pulled his mouth from hers, his eyes searching out her gaze, desire flaming in their dark depths. She bit down on her lower lip as he pushed into her, pushing her closer to the edge then pulling her back, refusing to let her fly.

"What's my name?"

She smiled, damning him at the same time she answered on a breathy sigh. "Big Guy."

He thrust into her, pulled away, shook his head. "What's my name?"

Damn him, she was so close. She moaned, closed her eyes. "Oh God."

"Not quite." He thrust once more, harder, deeper as he laughed against her mouth. The sound was musical, magical, filling her with surprise.

And something else, something she couldn't define. She shattered, exploding around him, shards of light piercing her eyes. Her hands dropped to his shoulders, her fingers digging into his flesh as her head fell back. The muscles in her legs, her back, her entire body tightened as she convulsed around him, squeezing, gripping. His name tore from her lips on a soft scream.

"Dave."

His mouth crashed down on hers, swallowing her cries as his rhythm increased. Harder, faster, deeper. Water splashed around them, cooling her skin from the outside as Dave's heat burned her inside.

His hands left her hips, wrapped around the ladder behind her ass as he pounded into her. Over and over, harder, faster.

She exploded again, cresting, crashing. He ripped his mouth from hers, his head flung back, his strong jaw clenched.

Thrust. Deep, in, out. Once more.

His hips ground into hers as a long growl tore from his chest, the sound rumbling around them, touching something inside her as he exploded inside her, filling her.