07 It Had to Be You Read online

  “Shut up and kiss me.” But she kissed him first, with all she had, while steam rose all around them. Thunder rattled the small bathroom window, and he held this amazing woman and wondered how it would feel when he’d gone home, without her in his life on a daily basis. He looked up at the same time the lightning flashed, looked right into her eyes as she gently touched her mouth to his with a questioning light in her gaze. “You okay?”

  He kissed the line furrowed between her brow, then the bridge of her nose, feeling an almost overwhelming sense of tenderness. “Yeah.” He wanted to scoop her up, but that was beyond him after dragging Smithy through the raging water, so he took her hand and opened the shower door. “Get in.”

  She dropped her bra and panties, and stepped in. He watched her silhouette as the scent of the soap she ran over her body teased his nostrils much like her outline was doing. When she turned off the water, he tossed her a towel over the glass. She came out wrapped in it. He took her hand again, led her to her futon couch.

  They sank upon it. Callie tugged at his shirt, and he obliged her, lifting his left arm. “Can’t lift my right all the way yet,” he whispered.

  “Then let me,” she whispered back, and rearing up, kissed his right shoulder before carefully, slowly, maneuvering his shirt off without disturbing his shoulder. She stroked a finger over his bare flesh and then kissed the long incision scar before lifting her gaze to his. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You’re not.” She was only killing him.

  She went to her knees, having to straddle him so she didn’t fall off the futon, and went to work on the buttons of his Levi’s, concentrating hard, the tip of her tongue resting on her upper lip. Finally, she managed to rid him of his rain-spattered clothing. He pulled off her towel, tugged her down over the top of him, and kissed her. Her breasts bore into his chest, the heat between her legs rested on the part of him desperate for a repeat performance of a night from all those weeks ago. Unable to take it anymore, he reared up, and when that didn’t hurt, he tumbled her over, tucking her beneath him.

  “That’s an improvement,” she gasped.

  “Isn’t it?” He settled between her sprawled legs and gently took her face between his hands. “I have several condoms this time.”

  “Well by all means, get one.”

  She helped him put it on, by which time he was trembling like a damned baby. He couldn’t wait to experience the almost unbearable erotic sensation of her wet flesh tugging on his every time he thrust into her.

  She ran her hands up his arms. “I need a time frame on this thing, Jake. A beginning, a middle. An end.”

  “Well, we’ve had our beginning.” Lowering his head, he took a nip out of her throat, which caused a satisfying reaction to her pulse. “We’ll have our middle tonight, all night.” He kissed his way over her collar bone, and cupped a breast. She was having trouble breathing again, which sent a surge of possessive pride and heat right through him.

  “And the end?”

  “It’s not tonight,” he promised, his thumb making several passes over her nipple while he watched it react to his touch.

  She hummed deep in her throat and arched up. “Spell it out for me, Jake.”

  “All right, but I’m not very good at spelling things out.” He kept his hands on her warm, gorgeous body. “I like you. I like you a lot.” Her eyes darkened, and he touched his forehead to hers. “And I’m scared shitless it’s more than like.”

  Her fingers sank into his hair. “How much more?”

  “I’ve never wanted another woman like I want you. Never,” he said, tracing her mouth with his thumb. “But as for where it’s going, or what we’ll do with it, I don’t know. I’m facing a lawsuit, the possibility of never being able to fight fires—” Horrifying him, his voice cracked, and he shook his head.

  “Oh, Jake.”

  “Look, I have no future to offer you. You can either live with that, or walk away.”

  Her eyes were huge on his, and wet. “I can’t imagine being told I can’t do what I love anymore. I’m so sorry—”

  “Don’t,” he said softly when a single tear spilled over. “Don’t.”

  “You have so much to offer,” she said fiercely. “No matter what you end up doing. So very much.”

  “If you really believe that, then of the two options, I hope walking away isn’t the one you pick.”

  “But what about when you walk away? When you go back?”

  “There’s this new-fangled contraption called an airplane.” He heard the words come out of his mouth with some surprise. Alien concept, a future with a woman.

  “You’re not going to want to come back here.”

  “Maybe you’ll come to me.”

  “Maybe.”

  “So does that mean you’re in?” he whispered.

  “No.” Callie watched the disappointment flash across his face, then slipped a hand down his belly, wrapping her fingers around him, guiding him to her. “You’re in.”

  The bathroom light spilled into the room, the only light in the place. It silhouetted him towering above her, pushing into her slow and deep. Then his wide shoulders were blocking the light, and she could only feel, and she let herself fall into the immense pleasure of his eyes on her, his scent, the weight of his body.

  His expression was a tight grimace of intense pleasure; a low, raw sound ripped from within his throat. His hands slid down the backs of her thighs, urging them open even more. All day she’d been cold, a bone-deep cold, but as he began to move he vanquished it, until she was hot, burning up, from the inside out.

  How could it be like this again, she wondered wildly, so intense, so mind-bogglingly intense? It was as if every moment they’d ever spent had been leading toward this—every word, every look, every touch had all culminated in this unrelenting ball of fire inside that threatened to consume her if she didn’t let it out.

  She gripped his arms, then gently slid her hands down his damp, hot, sleek back, past his healing scars, feeling his muscles flex as he sank deep inside her again, deep and slow, so very slow, as if he meant to stop time, to do this forever, binding her to him…

  He rolled his hips to hers. “I can’t tell where you end and I begin.”

  Nothing had ever been like this, like she was going to die if he didn’t keep on holding her, thrusting into her. That alone might have terrified her, but she knew by the look on his face that he was every bit as lost in her. He surrendered to it utterly, to her, to them, and she couldn’t help but do the same. “Jake—”

  “I know. God, I know—” He broke off and kissed her. Their rhythm increased, and she got lost in the heat of his skin, his hard thrusts, and when it was over, when they’d both taken the plunge, neither of them moved for the longest time. Callie thrived on that, on the utter repletion, the closeness. She loved the way he stayed over her, muscles quaking, his breath harsh and choppy, and she held on tight, soaking it all in. Finally he pressed his mouth to her throat, then lifted his head. “Hey.”

  She smiled. “Hey.”

  “Good?”

  “More than.”

  He kissed her again, then got up. A terrible sense of déjà vu came over her. She didn’t want him to go, not like last time, but she didn’t possess the courage to say so, or to stop him from walking away from her again. Too many damn times people had walked away from her. Just for once, she wanted someone to want to stay.

  He stood by her bed, naked. A beautiful man at total ease with himself.

  Holding her breath, she lifted the covers, and this time he slid in, drawing her close. “I wish we had a road map on this,” she whispered, and he let out a rough laugh, but drew her even closer.

  “Worried we’ll get lost?” he asked.

  “A little.” But the truth was, she already was lost. In him.

  Callie woke before dawn to Jake worshipping her body, and as she lay back and let him have his way with her before returning the favor, she dreamily figured she could wake up li