Survive the Fire Read online

  He insisted she wait under the covered entryway until he pulled up in his white vintage Mustang. As she splashed through the deluge, he was already out with the door open. “My white charger is at your service, milady.”

  Smiling, she slid inside. He got into the driver’s seat and she brushed clinging raindrops off his wet shirt sleeve. “You should’ve stayed in here where it’s dry.”

  He steered into the nearly deserted street. “As Gram always said, ‘I’m not sugar or salt nor anybody’s honey, I won’t melt.’”

  She studied the immaculate burgundy leather interior. “Fabulous ride.”

  He grinned. “’66 Mustang GT convertible. This pony has the famous ‘K-code’ four-barrel 289, pumping out a lusty 271 horsepower—” He caught her bemused expression. “TMI?”

  “No, but I don’t speak hotrod. I fill a car with gas and drive it. You obviously adore yours.”

  “Pop towed what started out as a hunk of junk home on my fourteenth birthday. Over the years, we rebuilt every inch. Once, when we worked late into the night, he confided a crazy—” Disconcerted, he shut his mouth. “TMI again. Anyway, the pony holds a lot of memories.”

  “You sound wistful. Your dad is ... gone?”

  Perceptive lady, too. “He died a year after we finished the car.” A shadow of grief flickered over him, but he kept his tone jaunty. “You have family nearby?”

  “Yes. But we’re not close.”

  She didn’t elaborate, and her tone told him to nix that subject. “What area of town are we headed for here?” he asked.

  “Liam—” She hesitated.

  He stopped for a red light, then glanced at her. An internal debate appeared to be happening. Huh. Maybe she also wanted to explore possibilities? He covered her hand where it rested on the console. “Have dinner with me Saturday night.”

  She blinked. “Um ...”

  The light flashed green, and he hit the gas, glanced over again. “Would you be more comfortable with lunch?”

  “Liam ... take me home.”

  “Too much, too fast? How about a coffee?” His fingers gently squeezed hers. “Hell, I’ll settle for a hot dog from a food cart.”

  She laughed. “I meant take me to your home. I’d like to see your creative vision.”

  * * *

  Ten minutes later, Liam ushered Kate inside the dilapidated two-story Craftsman, the door creaking loudly as he opened it. He switched on the lights. “Obviously, the jamb is out of level.”

  She chuckled. “Your own early warning system if anyone comes in or goes out.”

  “Yep.” He didn’t bring women to his houses. Never talked about his passion for restoration, never exposed details of his personal life. No strings, no connections, no expectations of any relationship.

  Yet ... here he was. With Kate.

  That disconcerting energy radiated from where his palm rested on the small of her back, messing with his equilibrium. He wasn’t about to assume anything though. Maybe she did just want to check out his house.

  He removed his coat from around her shoulders and hung it on the rack alongside her damp wrap. “I can’t wait to see this grand old duchess restored to her former glory.”

  “Do you do a lot of research in order to get the period details right?”

  “Yeah. It’s one of the most enjoyable aspects. I save as much of the houses’ original character as possible, while updating for energy-efficiency and modern conveniences.”

  “I take photos of the ocean and sea critters as references for my paintings. I even scuba dive for underwater photos.”

  “Man, I love diving. Grady, my younger brother, is a thrill-a-minute guy and he and I are dive buddies.”

  Sadness sobered her expressive face. “Must be really fun to have a brother who shares your interests.”

  “Grady’s fun all right, and fearless. Baby bro gives ‘disorderly conduct’ a whole new meaning.”

  She laughed, banishing the melancholy moment, and making him feel ten feet tall. O-kay.

  Her attention focused on the ramshackle living room as she set her purse on a sawhorse. “What you do is very similar to restoring paintings. There’s nothing more fulfilling than bringing something that’s been neglected back to life. Well, except for creating your own original masterpiece.”

  He pushed aside a wheeled tool cart partially blocking a doorway. “I’ll give you the fifty-cent tour.”

  She glanced at the hardhat on top that bore the Habitat for Humanity logo. “You volunteer for Habitat for Humanity? You don’t get enough construction at home?”

  He winked at her. “Don’t ya know, Just Kate,” he drawled in a lilting Irish brogue, “that idle hands are the devil’s tools?”

  “I’m sure your hands are always engaged in one activity or another, Lucky Charmer.”

  He sent her a wicked grin. “Busy hands are happy hands, sweetheart.”

  Her generous mouth quirked. “Aye,” she perfectly mimicked his accent. “That they are. And I like nothing better than having happy hands.”

  And hoo boy, the room overheated. He cleared his throat. “About that tour ... follow me.”

  Kate followed him into the dining room. She glanced around. “Perfect home to raise a family. Good solid bones, lots of space.”

  Not going there. “It’ll be a better party house.” He flicked a switch. “I’ve already wired in surround sound.”

  Phil Collins’s evocative voice floated out and she grinned approval. “I love Phil. He’s the modern equivalent of a medieval balladeer. All his songs tell a story.”

  “You’ve quite the poetic soul.”

  “Yet another trait we share in common,” she replied.

  He struggled to focus on the remodel as he conducted the tour. He asked her advice about the unfinished spaces, unsurprised by her exceptional sense of style and color. The interior was all clean lines, rich oak built-ins, and soon-to-be warm, cozy hues. The house smelled pleasantly of sanded wood and fresh paint.

  Kate was all graceful curves, sweet smiles, and captivating glances. She smelled erotically of summer flowers and warm woman.

  He led her into the kitchen. “After the downstairs bathrooms were done, I started in here.”

  Leaning against the white and gray granite countertop, she looked around. “When do you expect to finish?”

  His eyes caught and held hers. “I like to take my time on every project. Lavish thorough, complete attention on each step before moving to the next.”

  Her focus riveted on him. “A detail man.”

  Every muscle in his body tightened, while in the background, Phil’s mellow voice started wishing for rain.

  “Take these cabinets.” He shifted until he stood mere inches in front of her. One hand reached to lovingly caress a cabinet door beside her head and he imagined his fingers caressing her. “I’ll sand ’em until the pores grow warm and open, in order to easily accept the stain. Then carefully rub in the tint, layer by layer, until they glow.”

  Mesmerized, she watched his hand. Her breasts rose and fell as she swallowed, and lust fired deep in his belly. “You ... ah ... you’re dedicated to your work.”

  “It’s not work if you enjoy it, right?” Awareness thrummed between them. “Sometimes I forget to eat, forget everything but the satisfaction of creating.”

  Her gaze stayed on his, gold embers burning in those fascinating brown pools. “You do sound like an artist.”

  “I consider art an unflinching expression of true self, no matter the medium.” He smiled. “Isn’t art anything that arouses an emotional response, both in the creator and the observer? Anything that pulls both inside the experience and makes them participants?”

  They stood there, locked on each other like heat-seeking missiles.

  The heat undulated, spread, enveloped them. Kate swallowed again. “There’s a room you haven’t shown me that I’d like very much to see.” She leaned into him until their bodies touched. “Your bedroom.”

  He inh
aled sharply. Then surprised the shit out of himself by stepping back. “Kate ...” With this woman, he wanted more than a quick bang. “I’m trying like hell to be a gentleman with you.”

  She moved closer. “Well, stop it.”

  “This is different from anything— You’re different—”

  “Oh.” She abruptly turned away. “Sorry. I thought ...”

  He turned her to face him, lifted her chin so they were again looking at each other. “I damn well want you. And after being held against me all night you have to know exactly how much. But I don’t want to cross any wires and blow this up.”

  Her taut features relaxed. “You want me. I want you.” She rested her hand on his forearm, where his muscles vibrated like live power lines. “Seems very simple.”

  He uttered a shaky laugh. “Maybe I don’t want you to think I’m easy.”

  “No worries, Lucky Charmer.” She trailed her fingers up his arm to his shoulder, brushing her stomach against his more-than-obvious full salute. “I think you’re exquisitely hard.”

  “Damn,” he whispered. “You wreck me.” Then he captured her mouth. Her lips, so warm and lush, tasted of dark chocolate, heady whiskey, and hot, aroused woman. He dove in and devoured her. He couldn’t get enough of Kate.

  Panting, she broke free to gasp in air. “I have condoms in my purse. Left it in the living room.”

  “Don’t have to go all the way in there.” He sounded just as breathless. “I have a couple in my wallet.”

  “Thank St. Patrick!”

  Laughing, he again sought her mouth. He glided his tongue inside the sweet depths, kissing her as desperately as if it was his last night on earth and he was gonna live to the utmost before he left.

  She gave back generously, her clever mouth and questing hands quickly rocketing him to the edge. He couldn’t stop touching her, she couldn’t stop touching him.

  Kate kicked off her heels, he yanked off his sneakers and socks, barefoot in an instant. She fumbled with his shirt. Mouths fused in an endless, scalding kiss, he reached to help, finally just ripping it open. Buttons skittered across the linoleum, then his shirt dropped. He grasped the hem of her dress and tugged it up and over her head. It followed his shirt to the floor.

  He looked at her and the world tilted on its axis. Sweet Sculpted Venus. The only thing she was wearing was a tiny pair of red lace panties. Amazingly beautiful, her creamy skin, long shapely legs, and lush breasts tipped with rosy nipples, his to fully enjoy.

  He ran his hands over her. All over her, while she quivered eagerly beneath his touch. Her body was amazingly soft and delicate, but with sleek, strong muscles beneath. He unzipped his fly, shoved down his jeans and boxer briefs together and yanked them off. He barely remembered to snag his wallet, extract a condom and roll it on, the process made a whole lot harder—ha—by Kate rubbing against him like a cat. As his chest grazed her nipples, her knees wobbled and she moaned. “More!”

  “Kate,” he groaned. He lifted her onto the counter, stepped between her thighs. He rocked his hips into her, and her head fell back. He nibbled her ears and throat, discovering to his delight that it both tickled her and turned her on. Palms at her back holding her steady, he bent and swirled his tongue over a pebbled nipple, then sucked hard, smiling when she jolted, then arched into his mouth. Her breath sawed in and out in ragged gasps. Or maybe that was his own.

  Every nerve ending was hyper-sensitized, blood pounding hot and hard in his ears. Kate’s heartbeat thrashed in her chest at a frenzied pace beneath his mouth as he switched back and forth, devoting thorough attention to each breast.

  “Liam.” She was trembling in his embrace. “Please!”

  He lifted her, then hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tore them in half. He set her bare bottom on the cool, smooth granite countertop. Her skin scorched his, her heady female scent flooded his senses, more intoxicating than Irish hot chocolate.

  As his mouth devoured hers, her arms around his neck pulled him as close as he could get without being inside her. “Now,” she gasped into his mouth.

  He jerked free. “Wait.” Panting, he stepped back. Rested his forehead against hers. “Not here. Not like this.”

  “Here is great. Now is great.”

  “I want you in my bed.” He scooped her up. She wound her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. To the erotic beat of drums and the echoing strains of “In the Air Tonight,” he carried her upstairs. Every step caused the carnal glide of her hot, slick center up and down his erection, making him shake. Making him battle the temptation to take her right there against the wall.

  “You can have me wherever you want me.” She writhed against him. “Just hurry! I’ve waited long enough.”

  He’d never been this hot, this desperate. Never needed like he needed her. He chuckled unsteadily. “Keep that up, and I’ll forget how to walk.” As his chuckle vibrated through him and into her, she moaned.

  She rained kisses down his throat. “As long as you don’t forget how to do anything else.”

  He turned into his bedroom. Laid her on the bed. Light from the hallway gilded the passion-taut lines of her face as he looked at her, drinking in the beautiful sight. “God, you’re perfect.”

  She smiled and a shiver ran over her as she bent her right knee and slanted it to the side in invitation.

  A rainbow-colored butterfly tattoo took flight low on her stomach, beside the enticing inner curve of her hipbone. And he was gonna kiss it, kiss her everywhere.

  The second time around.

  He followed her down, holding most of his weight off her with his forearms. A surge of possessiveness caught him by surprise when she brought her other knee up and eagerly opened all the way for him. He suddenly couldn’t remember how to breathe.

  Holding her gaze, he thrust in to the hilt.

  Damn, she was tight. Unbelievably tight.

  She stiffened and cried out, but not in pleasure. Her eyelids slammed shut, and Liam froze.

  Sonofabitch!

  Cold horror sent tremors down his spine. “Kate?”

  She was shaking from head to toe. “I’m ... all right,” she choked out.

  “Kate, look at me.”

  Her lids slid up, her expression bewildered.

  Appalled, he cupped her face. “Jesus Christ, sweetheart, why didn’t you tell me you were a virgin? Shit. I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “I’m all right,” she repeated.

  “The hell you are.”

  “I am. Really. You’re ... just ... larger than I expected. I only need ... a minute ... to adjust.”

  “If you can relax that’ll help. I’m gonna pull out. Real slow.”

  Her arms and legs wrapped around him, drawing him deeper inside her. “No! Don’t!”

  “Babe ...”

  “Please. Give me a chance to find out how good it can be.”

  He gritted his teeth. How could he deny Kate pleasure after he’d caused her pain? He only hoped at this point he could make it good for her. “Okay. But I need you to try to relax, all right? Breathe with me.”

  He guided her through a repeated series of counted inhalations and exhalations, relieved for her sake when the constricting pressure where he was sheathed inside her eased. “Better?”

  “Much better.”

  “Sure you don’t want me to pull out? We can stop, right now. I don’t want you to go through with this only because you think we’ve gone too far for you to say anything.”

  She gave him a sweet smile that broke his heart. “I’ve never been a quitter.”

  “Hellfire, Kate.” He kissed her. “Tell me if it hurts you. We can stop any time. Promise you’ll tell me, or I will end this right now.”

  “I promise. Can I ask you something?”

  “Anything.”

  “How will I ... uh ... How will I know if I have an orgasm?”

  He fought a brief battle with a smile and lost. “Trust me, you’ll know.”

  Earn
est intensity edged her fine features. “I do. Trust you.”

  And didn’t that responsibility scare the ever-loving shit outta him?

  Holding completely still, he kissed her, making love to her mouth for an eternity. As she relaxed even more, he kissed lower, licked and nibbled her ears and throat, thrilled to hear her laughter and feel her wriggling.

  When she started to make little humming sounds, he supported his weight on his left arm and used his right hand to gently knead her breasts and tease her nipples. Then bent his head to arouse her with his mouth. Before long, her spine arched and her hips restlessly shifted upward ... his cue to slowly, carefully, halfway withdraw, then slide in again.

  Her eyes flew open, met his in surprised wonder. “Oh!”

  “Okay, sweetheart?” He made another slow, shallow glide.

  “Yes. That’s ... ohhhh ... lovely. Keep doing that.”

  He grinned. “Yes, ma’am.”

  She quickly caught the rhythm, rising to meet him on each down stroke, her body urging him faster, deeper. Ruthlessly leashing his own intensifying need, staying gentle, he followed her lead and gave her exactly what she wanted.

  Her lids drifted halfway down and she watched him from beneath her lashes, that unique link vibrating between them. She started to shake again, body bowing, her inner muscles contracting. And then she was panting and moaning and coming ... and kept coming.

  He gritted his teeth and held back his climax, drawing out her pleasure. Kate coming completely undone for him was the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

  As her orgasm subsided, she continued undulating against him, aftershocks rippling inside her, around him—pushing him to the edge. He kept stroking, slow and gentle. Her throaty little hums started up again, stealing his breath and making him grin. That’s quite a tell, sweetheart.

  He angled his hips to give her more direct contact and increased his pace, and damn if she didn’t come again, longer, harder. This time, she cried out his name.

  He let go and fell with her.

  Into perfect, unequalled bliss.

  Sometime later, he lifted his head to see her watching him almost ... warily? He kissed the tip of her nose. “So? Did you figure it out?”