Page 12 of His Big Holiday Firefighter
“Yes, chef,” he said with a small smile, offering a mock salute. “Make yourself at home. There’s tea in the cabinet by the fridge if you want.”
While the shower ran, I explored some more. Noah’s array of baking equipment was impressive—not the latest models like I had in Seattle, but quality pieces, well-maintained and clearly cherished. I found more evidence of his dedication in a kitchen drawer filled with recipe cards—some in his handwriting, some in my grandmother’s, all annotated with notes and adjustments.
I located the tea and set the kettle to boil. I was setting out mugs and pouring when I heard the bathroom door open.
The sight of Noah in just a pair of low-hanging gray sweatpants stopped me in my tracks. His broad chest was still slightly damp, droplets of water clinging to the light dusting of reddish hair that narrowed down to a trail disappearing beneath his waistband.
The firefighter’s physique I’d been dreaming about was on full display—powerful shoulders, defined abs, and muscular arms.
“You made tea,” he said, seemingly unaware of my sudden inability to form coherent thoughts.
I cleared my throat. “Seemed like the least I could do.”
Noah approached, and, as it was whenever he stood near, the kitchen suddenly felt much smaller. He accepted the mug I handed him, our fingers brushing. “Thank you. For this. For being there tonight. For...” He trailed off, eyes searching mine.
“I meant what I said.” I set my mug down. “Earlier. About falling for you. I know it sounds crazy.”
“Sometimes a week is all it takes. When you know, you know.”
“I’ve never been good at this part. If you hadn’t already noticed, I prefer things when they’re controlled, measured, perfect.”
“Like your baking,” Noah said, understanding in his eyes.
I took a breath. “But tonight, watching you run into that building, not knowing if you’d come back out... I realized I was more afraid of losing the chance to know you than I was of staying.”
Noah set his mug down, stepping closer. “Every time I go into a fire, I think about what I’m coming back to.” His voice was low and serious. “Today, I was thinking about coming back to you.”
Noah reached out, brushing a strand of hair from my face with a gentleness that belied his size. His hand lingered, cupping my cheek, and I leaned into the touch without thinking.
“James,” he whispered. My name had never sounded so sweet.
When he kissed me this time, it was as if the culmination of our flirtation was now cemented by the undeniable desire we shared.
Our kisses by the tree and after the fire, those had been questions, possibilities. This was certainty.
His lips were warm and confident against mine, his hand sliding from my cheek to tangle in my hair. I pressed closer, my hands finding the warm skin of his chest, feeling his heart hammering beneath my palm.
The kiss deepened, grew hungrier. Noah’s arms encircled me, strong and secure, as he backed me against the counter. I gasped when he lifted me effortlessly to sit on the edge, stepping between my legs.
His display of casual, effortless strength sent heat pooling low in my belly. I’d never been so hard in my life.
Noah pulled back slightly, his breathing ragged. “Are you sure about this? About us?”
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.” I meant it with a certainty that should have frightened me, but somehow didn’t.
“Then let me take care of you.” He recaptured my mouth in a kiss that made my toes curl.
We moved to the bedroom in a tangle of limbs and half-removed clothing. Noah was impossibly gentle when he laid me on his bed. I felt none of my usual need for control.
There was only Noah—his eyes dark with desire, his body powerful above mine, his touch careful but confident.
“You’re amazing,” he whispered, his gaze traveling the length of my now-naked body with such open appreciation that I couldn’t feel self-conscious.
Noah lowered himself beside me, tracing a line of kisses from my neck to my chest. His large hand splayed across my stomach, fingers teasing lower with each pass. I shivered as his mouth followed his hands, tongue tracing patterns on my skin.
“I’ve been thinking about this since I first saw you,” Noah said, lips pressed against my hip. “Even covered in coffee, you were the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.”
Any response I might have had dissolved into a gasp as he took my cock into his mouth. The wet heat was overwhelming, his tongue swirling around the head before he sank down, taking me deeper than I thought possible. My hips jerked upward involuntarily.
