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Authors: Delilah Devlin (ed)

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BOOK: High Octane Heroes
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“Oh!” she gasped, her back arching.
“Not yet, darling,” he said, chuckling.
She murmured a protest, but brought her hips back down.
Sliding his cock across her pussy was just as much torture for him as it was for her, but he loved to make her beg. He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit, then her wet opening. He pushed in just a fraction of an inch.
“God, Tony,” she pleaded. “Do it.”
“Say it.” He pulled away.
“Oh god, just do it.”
He pushed against her slick folds again. “Say it.”
“Please…” Her hips rolled, attempting to capture his dick.
“You can do better than that,” he said, his voice deepening in pleasure.
“Fuck me, baby. Please.”
 
Laura cried out when his cock plunged into her forcefully. He let out a low groan as the walls of her pussy adjusted to accommodate his thick girth as he began thrusting in a steady rhythm. He took her mouth; his hands eagerly explored her body. The rough feel of his fingertips sliding across her skin sent shivers down her spine.
Flesh against flesh, the heat between them produced a light sheen of sweat on their bodies. Laura dug her nails into his back, raking them down his spine, marking him with scratches. His cock drove deeper into her, and she rolled her hips against him, expressing her growing need. She tugged at his lower lip with her teeth, and the snarl he emitted from his throat was deep and dangerous.
Tension began to build, ready to spill over the edge and into oblivion, but before bliss could be achieved, Tony pulled out his cock, leaving her pussy pulsing with the need to climax.
“Turn over,” he ordered, his voice harsh and ragged.
Obliging, she turned, her hair falling like a curtain over her face.
His hands gripped her ass; fingers splayed across the smooth skin. She felt his cock poised at her entrance. Then he pushed into her pussy from behind.
Laura gripped plain white sheets as he began pounding into her hard. She bit her lip to keep from crying out, the feel of his rough thrusting driving her closer and closer to the edge. His hands were on her hips, guiding her back and forth as he pumped furiously. Her nerves grew taut, like a rubber band stretched too tightly.
She snapped.
Her orgasm was explosive, coursing through her body like the aftershock of an earthquake. She cried out his name, riding wave after wave of pleasure as it rippled through her.
Reaching a hand around her hip, Tony played with her clit as he continued to thrust.
Too sensitive, she bucked against him until his deep breathing turned into short grunts. He stilled behind her, the two of them panting and reveling in the aftermath of their orgasms.
He drew away and she rolled onto her back, willing her heart to slow its furious beating. Once she’d caught her breath, she sat up.
“So,” she said with a smile as she reached for her panties and scrubs. “Any ideas on how you’re going to smuggle me out of here?”
A hand reached for her wrist and tightened like a manacle around it. “Honey, I’m alone for a couple more hours yet,” he said, his voice a husky drawl. “You think I’m letting you leave right now?”
She glanced sideways, biting her bottom lip. “I do need a way out of here, you know. Whether it’s now or in two hours.”
“You leave that to me. In the meantime…”
She arched a slender eyebrow as his voice trailed off, desire glittering in his wicked, dark eyes. A quick glance at his hardening cock, and she could see he was nearly ready to go again.
“Yes, Staff Sergeant?” Her voice was sweet with mock innocence.
He grinned, teeth flashing white against his tanned skin as he nodded for her to lie back on his bed. “As you were, soldier.”
FIVE-ALARM FIRE
Sabrina York
 
 
 
 
 
T
he call came in just as Luke Patterson and his partner Izzy were sitting down to a big bowl of Five-Alarm Chili. Mrs. Lipniki was having another heart attack.
“Whaddya think, Luke?” Izzy quipped, as he leapt into the passenger side of the paramedic unit. “Is it the real deal this time or just another false alarm?”
Luke responded with a one-shouldered shrug. They both knew it was a rhetorical question. Mrs. Lipniki was, after all, a regular. They suspected she called as often as she did because she was lonely, but lately things had changed. Lately, she’d been calling in emergencies to try and set them up with her granddaughters.
And her nieces.
And her cousin’s uncle’s nephew’s sister.
As they roared down the main street of town, heading for the little duplex they knew so well, Luke swallowed his cynicism. One of these days Mrs. Lipniki might really have a heart attack; it was his job to make sure she got the best possible care,
no matter what.
“Hokay,” Izzy muttered as they pulled into the driveway. “Lock and load.”
They jetted from the truck, grabbed the portable defibrillator and their EMT bag, and double-timed it to the door. It stood open. Without preamble, they moved into place.
While Izzy unpacked the defibrillator, Luke knelt beside Mrs. Lipniki and started taking her vitals. As he placed the cold cup of his stethoscope against her chest, she flinched and bit back a tiny smile.
Luke and Izzy exchanged a look.
False alarm
. Again.
Still and all, they always followed protocol. Always.
Luke turned to the young woman kneeling quietly beside his patient. And almost swallowed his tongue. Holy shit, she was gorgeous. Her face had classic lines, an adorable snub nose, and a cleft chin—the kind that drove him crazy.
And her body? Curves that fucking didn’t quit. A far cry from last week’s emaciated offering. Hunger snarled through him. He fixed his features into a dispassionate expression. “Can you tell us what happened?”
She glanced up and, through the shadows, their gazes met. Luke blinked, a little stunned. She had the most beautiful eyes he’d ever seen. A deep-violet sea fringed in thick black lashes. He could drown in that ocean.
“She just grabbed her chest and fell to the floor.”
Luke barely registered the words. Her musical voice sent shards of lust dancing along his nerve endings—all the way to his cock.
He forced himself to focus. “D-did she hit her head when she fell?”
“No.”
Luke had to look away; she was far too distracting. He wasn’t
here to meet chicks—not even magnificent, violet-eyed vixens. Regardless of Mrs. Lipniki’s evil plans.
He nodded, businesslike, and strapped the blood pressure cuff to his patient’s limp arm. As he began to pump air into the cuff, Mrs. Lipniki moaned. She usually regained consciousness about then because she hated having her blood pressure taken.
“Oh!” she warbled in an operatic tenor. “Luke, is that you?” Since she was a little hard of hearing, she had a tendency to yell—even when she warbled.
“Yes, Mrs. Lipniki,” he said wryly. “I’m right here. How are you feeling?”
“I feel faint.” She affected the classic “tragedy pose” with the backs of her fingers to her brow.
“Oh dear,” the sweet female to Luke’s side murmured. Low and resonant, her words had an uncomfortable effect in his trousers. “Will she be all right?”
“Trish?” The old lady thrashed her hand about madly, eyes still screwed shut. “Is that you?”
Wisely, Trish captured that flailing appendage and held it close. “I’m right here, sweetie.”
“Oh Trish…Trish.” Mrs. Lipniki rolled toward Luke, cracked open one eye and bellowed in a conspiratorial tone, “Trish is my neighbor.” And then, just below a dull roar, “She’s
single
. A
good
girl.”
The good girl’s mouth fell open. A delicate blush lit her cheeks. She looked mortified.
Relentless, Mrs. Lipniki turned her gimlet gaze on poor Trish. “Luke is a
fireman.
He’s a very nice
boy
. His hands are very
large
.” She lifted one up, just to show poor Trish, waggling it around like a flopping trout.
Luke could hear Izzy snickering behind him, but he didn’t care.
Because Trish was smiling.
It was a small smile, kind of shy, but she was luminous. Dimples exploded in her cheeks.
“Oh, you two would be perfect together.” Mrs. Lipniki wheezed, as though on her last breath. She clutched at her chest. “You should go on a
date.
”
Trish gasped. “Mrs. Lipniki! That’s…” Her gaze met Luke’s. “Silly.”
“Is it?” he asked in an undertone, slowly winding his stethoscope and tucking it into his bag.
“Well—” She sputtered. “We haven’t even met.”
Luke stuck out his (very large) hand. “How do you do? I’m Luke Patterson. I’m a fireman.” He grinned. “I’m a very nice boy.” He didn’t bother to mention the part about his impressive size because, hell, she could tell that for herself.
His palm skated across hers, and suddenly he didn’t want to let go. Touching her was like coming home after a long, hard shift. Relaxing. Comfortable.
But not too comfortable. A sizzle ran up his arm.
“I’m Trish.” She stared as though the feel of his skin, this indefinable
connection,
had her just as befuddled and bewildered.
“Ask her to go
out
,” Mrs. Lipniki prodded. She had both eyes open now and watched avidly. “She’s free on
Saturday
.”
“Oh dear.” A charming pink tide washed up Trish’s cheeks.
She tried to tug away, but he still had hold of her. He wouldn’t let her escape. No way. No how. Luke cleared his throat. “So,” he said, “would you like to go to dinner? Say, Saturday?”
She gulped, drawing his attention to the long, slender column of her throat.
“Oh, go on, honey,” their matchmaker crooned. “He’s not an axe murderer.”
Trish sputtered a laugh. When she noticed the intent look on his face, she sobered. “I would love to.”
“Great,” Luke said, but he doubted Trish heard him, because Mrs. Lipniki said it at exactly the same time, and a whole lot louder.
“Great!” she crowed. “He’ll pick you up at six!”
Luke blinked. “I guess I’ll…pick you up at six.”
Trish laughed again, which sent shivers down his spine; he really liked the sound of it.
“So…you gonna be okay, Mrs. Lipniki?” Izzy asked.
“Oh, yes, young man. I think I’ll be just fine.” She winked in his direction.
As they made their way back to the truck, Izzy chuckled. “Another false alarm.”
Luke didn’t respond. He had hope. Maybe it would be the real thing after all. He wouldn’t find out until Saturday.
 
He picked up Trish right on time, because he knew if he was late Mrs. Lipniki would have something to say about it. She usually had something to say about everything.
And yes, the old woman was on her stoop, waiting.
Luke nodded in greeting as he rang Trish’s bell.
His date answered his summons as though she’d been waiting at the door. The sight of her stole his breath. She wore a slinky blue dress that clung to her curves and heels that made his mouth water.
He wanted nothing more than to get her someplace private where he could explore her body at length. With his lips. He didn’t expect that would happen tonight. Mrs. Lipniki had said she was a
good
girl. Good girls didn’t go home with random men on a first date.
Damn, Luke hated to wait. But wait he would.
He could tell Mrs. Lipniki was in the mood to chat, so he took Trish’s elbow and stated, very firmly, that they had reservations and couldn’t dawdle.
Trish shot him a relieved smile. Mrs. Lipniki’s face screwed up in a scowl.
Luke helped Trish into the car, disciplining himself to keep his hands off her, but his palm itched to test the soft flesh of her hips, to skate over the curve of her ass. It took everything in him to resist.
He slid into the driver’s seat next to her and fit the key in the ignition. “All set?”
She tipped her head and observed him solemnly through thick lashes. “You don’t have to do this, you know.”
Luke stilled. “Do what?”
“Take me out to dinner. You were railroaded into that invitation.”
“Was I?”
She nodded. Her throat worked. “Of course you were. But I understand. Mrs. Lipniki can be rather adamant.”
“No one bullies me into doing something I don’t want to do.” He softened his words with a wink.
She blew out a weedy, trembling laugh and gestured to her body. “I’m hardly a runway model. I know men prefer slender women.”
Luke gaped at her. “Not all men, sweetheart. Some men don’t like making love to a stick figure.” Her eyes widened in surprise and then warmed, so he shifted to face her with his arm over the back of the seat “I have a confession to make.”
“Yes?”
“I love curves on a woman. When I saw you, all I could think about was how much I wanted to…well, hold you.” The intensity between them notched upward. He cleared his throat. “You’re exactly the kind of woman I prefer.”
“Really?” Shock limned her exquisite features. Then an impish hunger replaced it. “Well, in that case, I have a confession as well. No, wait. Two.”
Holy hell. With that look and the way she dabbed at her lips with her tongue, he couldn’t wait to hear them. “W-what?”
“Remember how Mrs. Lipniki said I was a good girl?”
“Yes.” Anticipation slithered through him.
She glanced at him from beneath her lashes. Heat shot between them. “I’m not.”
Holy hell.
A bolt of lightning seared him. His cock shot up like a meerkat on the prairie. “You’re not?”
She shook her head. He liked the way her hair danced over her shoulders. He wondered what it would feel like fisted in his fingers as he guided her head, her mouth warm and tight around his—
BOOK: High Octane Heroes
5.27Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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