Safe From the Fire (15 page)

“Shit,”
Matt said, disentangling himself, “I don’t think I have any condoms.  It’s been
a while.”

Unprepared
idiot,
he scolded himself
.

Grace
pulled herself up as he kneeled up, straddling her thighs, and then leaned over
to rifle through the nightstand.  He was quickly distracted as she scooted
forward to nibble on his abs, scraping sharp little nails down his thighs and
cuddling his cock between her breasts.  Matt gave up on the search with a
groan.

“I’m
on the Pill,” murmured Grace, and licked his chest, “and I’m clean.”

“Me
too.  Clean, I mean,” Matt replied, holding her close.

“Good,
then we don’t need a condom.”

She
smiled, and his heart turned over, but the smile stiffened slightly as he came
down over her, again careful not to pin her, gently nudging her thighs apart,
and he suddenly remembered.

She
needed more.

He
couldn’t forget that part of this night was about convincing Grace that he
could be what she needed.  The romance and sweetness would come, but if she
couldn’t be truly satisfied without the edge, then
by fuck,
he was going
to find a way to give her that edge.

Matt
looked around the room and felt inspired as his eyes landed on the full-length
mirror propped up against the wall.  It really needed a frame, and he had been
planning to hang it in the hallway, but for the moment, it was perfect.  He
tugged her up to a sitting position.

“Get
on your knees and hold on to the headboard,” he said, injecting a touch of
command into his voice, noting how her eyes flared with excitement and she fairly
scrambled to do as he asked, putting the ass he loved and her glistening pink
pussy on display as her thighs parted for him.

Oh
yeah.

Matt
slid off the bed and moved the mirror across the room to the opposite wall,
carefully positioning it so that he had a clear view of Grace, who was watching
every move, her breath coming fast.  She watched as he climbed up on the bed
behind her, watched as he spread her thighs wide, and then wider, and watched
as he positioned himself, rubbing the head of his cock in her juices.  She
moaned as he slid through her folds to press against her opening.  Matt nudged
forward a bit and his eyes nearly rolled back at the feel of her molten heat
bathing the head of his dick.

Control
, he reminded
himself.

“Do
you want me to fill you, Grace?  Do you need my cock?” Matt barely recognized
his own voice, “Tell me.”

“God,
yes, Matt, please – I need you.  I need your cock.  I
need you to fuck me –
”

Matt
groaned at the desperation in her tone and he surged forward into her tight,
wet sheath, so hot and so incredibly fucking good that he had to grit his teeth
to keep from exploding right away.  He pressed forward, hands on her ass as he
filled her up, inch by inch, until he was buried to the hilt, his balls
snuggled against the damp pad of her pussy.

He
looked at their reflection in the mirror, joined, trembling with passion, and
knew in that moment that he’d do anything,
anything
she needed to make
her happy.

And
that was terrifying.

STUFFED
WAS ALL GRACE could
think, impaled to overflowing with hard cock that pulsed inside her, pulling
forth a hot liquid gush from her core.  He was thick enough that her sheath
rippled in delight and panic around him, the sheer size giving her that edge of
pleasure/pain she’d been desperate for from him.

“Is
this what you wanted?”  Matt’s voice was a growl, and she gripped the headboard
harder as he started to move.

“Yes,”
she breathed, and it was.

She
could see everything, and that was almost as good as the drag of his shaft
along her most sensitive flesh.  The bunch of the hard muscles of his ass, the
tension in his thighs and abdomen as he flexed, driving into her in steady,
deep strokes while warm hands gripped her, holding her gently for his
penetration.  His cock glistened with her juices with every deliberate
withdrawal, and she whimpered as he pressed a hand into her lower back, arching
her back and tilting her ass even further.

This
was
what she wanted.  Matt’s hands, positioning her for his pleasure and
freeing her from responsibility for anything but responding to his touch.

“More,”
she begged, and he hesitated, and then,
thank God,
he fucked her harder,
deeper, until she cried out as pleasure crashed over her.

Matt
didn’t let up, but gripped her hips a little more firmly, used his knees to
spread her a little wider, and pounded into her pussy as she came again.  He
slid an arm around her waist, jerked her back against him, and buried his mouth
in her hair as he exploded with a muffled shout, filling her up with liquid
heat as she watched.  It was the hottest fucking thing
ever
.

MATT
WASN’T AT ALL surprised that Grace was reluctant to spend the night, but he
gruffly informed her that if she wanted him to even consider handcuffs and
nipple clamps down the line, she was required to cuddle for at least an hour. 
Any
opportunity to hold her close.

“Give
and take, Grace,” he reminded her as she frowned.

Fifteen
minutes later she was out cold, curled up against his chest like she belonged
there, and he stroked her hair, her back, the curve of her ass, fighting off
sleep so he could savor every little moment, his body humming with satisfaction. 
The whole night had been a series of surprises, and Matt struggled with the
unfamiliar feeling of hope.

This
might work
,
was his last thought before he fell into sleep like a stone.

THE
RING OF THE phone was irritating, waking Grace out of a sound sleep only to
realize that it wasn’t her cell phone, but rather the landline on the night
stand.  Matt stirred, but didn’t really wake, only pulling her more firmly
against him until she was practically sprawled on top of him.  The phone
stopped.

So
much for distance,
thought Grace, nuzzling his chest, breathing in his unique scent, and feeling
his heartbeat under her ear.  He was warm and big and all those hard muscles
and the light dusting of golden hair felt incredible under her, though she
needed a shower and was already starting to feel a little sore as she shifted,
the little twinges sparking surges of deliciously dirty pleasure to her clit. 
Talk about rocking her world.

The
phone rang again and Matt grumbled, fumbling for it in the dark.

“Hello? 
Hey, Tony,”

Grace
felt Matt’s hand wander down to stroke her ass, and his cock twitched against
her thigh.  Maybe she wasn’t
that
sore…

“What?”

He
froze, reaching over to turn on the lights, pulling away as he sat up on the
bed, running fingers through his hair, treating her to a view of the strong
curve of his back.

“I’ll
be right there.  Send someone over to Grace’s house, right now, make sure
Adam’s okay.”

He
hung up and she grabbed his arm.

“What’s
wrong?”

“Fire. 
At your neighbor’s house.”

The
words had barely left his lips before Grace was scrambling up, looking for
clothing until she remembered that her dress was downstairs on the living room
floor.  She burned hot for a second as images from the night’s fun flashed
through her head, but she didn’t have time to think about it right now.

Matt
caught her hand as she started for the door, and kissed her gently before she
had a chance to protest.

“I’ll
be right behind you,” he said, and then he kissed her again, hard and deep,
before letting her go, panting, “To be continued, Grace.”

The
ten-minute drive back to her neighborhood seemed to take forever, though Grace
drove as fast as she dared.  She saw the flames before she even reached the
street – a column of smoke and fire rising from the Murphys’ house down the
block from hers.  They were out of town for the weekend visiting their
grandchildren, but Grace knew the elderly couple would be devastated by the
destruction and just prayed that the Fire Department would be able to save even
part of the house.

They
were giving it their best shot, and Grace slammed on the brakes just before the
roadblock as she spotted Adam sitting on the back of an ambulance, holding an
ice pack to the back of his head while a paramedic treated a nasty cut on his
forehead.  Grace jumped out and raced for her brother.

“Oh
my God, Adam! What happened?”

Finished,
the paramedic moved back, letting Grace fling her arms around her brother.

“There
was someone in the house,” he said, hugging her back, “He knocked me out.  I
think it was a he.  He was wearing gloves and a hood.  I didn’t see his face.”

Adam
pulled back.  He still looked a little dazed.

“I
woke up and he was gone, but the door was open, and the house down the block
was on fire, so I called it in.  No one was home, right?”  The worry in his
voice was evident.

“They’re
out of town this weekend.  You did the right thing.”

“I
woke up and you weren’t here.  I thought – what if you were home.  He could
have – ”

Adam
paled.

“He
didn’t.  I was safe,” Grace said, clearing her throat before continuing, “I was
with Matt.”

Adam
nodded, though he was surprised.

Matt’s
SUV pulled up behind Grace’s car, and he hopped out, assessing the fire with a
professional gaze before hurrying over to join them.  Adam explained again, and
Matt nodded grimly.

“Are
you sure he’s not still in the house?”

The
possibility hadn’t even occurred to Adam, who looked a little green around the
gills.

“Wait
here.”

Matt
stepped away to greet Evie, who was just arriving with Colin, getting caught up
on the latest from Zeke.  The couple looked exhausted and slightly disheveled,
while Zeke seemed to be digging deep from some fathomless well of
determination.  After a brief conversation, Matt and Evie headed over to check
out Grace’s house, and Grace shivered as her friend pulled her weapon and waved
Matt and Zeke behind her.

Colin
joined Grace and slid an arm around her as they waited, tense, until the three
emerged again, giving the all clear sign and then turning their attention back
to the fire, which was nearly out.

“You
know, whoever this arsonist bastard is, I’m going to have to kill him with my
bare hands,” said Colin conversationally.

“Is
he messing with your sex life?” asked Grace, irritated.

“Evie
keeps falling asleep on me,” uttered Colin as though it were the end of the
world, and he nudged Grace, “Why? Is he messing with yours?”

Grace
grumbled, but only muttered, “Maybe you just need to up your game, old pal.”

“There’s
nothing wrong with my game,” said Colin, affronted, “And if you’d like to talk
Evie into a three-way, I’d be happy to show you.”

Grace
elbowed him in the ribs as he chuckled.

“Then
again, I don’t need Matt skinning me alive,” he said, shaking his head.

Grace
shivered, remembering Matt’s outburst at the bar.

“Don’t
even joke about it,” she said.

HE
WATCHED FROM THE trees, the sights and sounds of the fire and the aftermath now
familiar to him, and though this house didn’t matter as much, and was yet
another decoy, he was vaguely disappointed that it hadn’t burned to the
ground.  There was something almost sexual about watching the fires consume the
buildings, swallowing them whole.

There
was only one more to go, one that really mattered, and then he could finally
stop.  He was surprised to find that the idea left him feeling a little empty –
for someone with such an ordinary life, this whole situation had been somewhat
exciting.

The
Mallow boy and his sister were over by the ambulance with the mayor while Matt
Harris and the new deputy, now both wearing helmets and protective jackets,
approached the unburned side of the house with flashlights, scanning the
ground.

He
tensed, knowing what they would find – he’d made sure to do a poor job of
hiding both the gas can and the toolkit.  The lighter was in his pocket, but he
reasoned that it might be a little too obvious if he’d left that behind. 
Besides, the lighter was a gift from his father.

They
uncovered his little clues, as expected, and he waited for the revelation.  Any
moment now, they would rush over to Adam Mallow and throw the boy into the back
of the Sheriff’s Department SUV, the clear perpetrator of the crime.

That
didn’t happen.

Matt
opened the sooty toolkit, checked the contents, and examined the gas can, then
closed the kit and, after a consultation with Evie Asher, put both can and
toolkit in the back of his truck.