Page 8 of Keeping the Single Dad
Her hand grazed my erection through my kilt. The shock of an intimate touch after so long made me jolt. I held her at a distance.
She pressed her back against the mirrored wall. “What is it?”
“They have CCTV in these things.”
“So?”
“So, I don’t fancy some security guy in an office getting over excited about this.”
“Really? I couldn’t care less.” She jerked me roughly, almost violently, back to her lips. “Let’s give them a show.”
“Maybe we should slow down.”
Her hands dropped low to squeeze my backside. “Why?”
My body flooded with heat. A rough groan escaped my lips. Fair point. Why slow down? Her lips met mine again, and I succumbed to her kiss. The lift pinged, and the doors slid open. Still kissing, we stumbled out together, rolling along the walls, down the corridor. I fumbled in my leather sporran for my key card. She squeezed between me and the gap in the door, kissing every scrap of skin on my neck. Her smooth palms explored the plains of my back under my shirt.?
Somehow, I got the door open, and we burst inside. At this rate, we’d be lucky to make it to the bed. I lifted her into my arms. Her strong thighs wrapped around my middle, and I kicked the door closed behind me. Entangled, we stumbled to the bed, shedding clothes as we went. Her lips seared a path down my throat, and my body tingled with electricity. Her cool hands slipped up my thigh, under my kilt to graze my hard length.
She chuckled softly into my neck. “Nothing under the kilt. You’re a true Scotsman, then?”
“Aye, lass. That I am.”
I slid my hands under her tight dress, up smooth nylon, seeking the waistband of her underwear to rip it down. Maybe I could have taken my time, but her kisses were as lusty and urgent as mine.
My mouth burned with fire from her demanding kisses. “You’re sure you want this?”
“I’m sure.”
She guided my hand beneath her underwear. My fingers brushed wet heat between her thighs. I couldn’t stop my groan at how ready she was for me.
She smoothed her hands over my arms. “You must work out.”
I traced the line of her jaw with my lips. “I have to keep in shape for work.”
“What do you do?”
My shoulders tensed. There were always women desperate to hook up with someone in the public eye. No matter who it was. Things might get complicated if she knew I was a footballer. “Does it matter?”
“No.” Her lips traced a sensuous path down my chest and she dropped to her knees. “I know what you do, anyway. You’re a firefighter. That’s why you have a problem with cats. You have to spend your whole day pulling them out of trees. I have all these fantasies about a firefighter.”
She lifted my kilt, and her fingers wrapped around the base of my shaft. Her hot mouth closed around me, stealing the breath from my lungs. She worked my length. Wicked pleasure tightened every nerve. I couldn’t last for long if she was going to do this.
I pulled her to her feet and lifted her, hauling over my shoulder. She gave a startled laugh and whacked my back.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m rescuing you. I’ve spent my day getting sweaty, sliding down poles, and saving lives. Now, I’m here to set your body ablaze.”
Her laugh rumbled through my back. “I didn’t realize firemen were such dorks.”
“It’s true. We are all notoriously incredibly brave and heroic dorks.”
She moaned softly as I laid her down on the bed. For a moment, the sight of her strong, shapely body in pale-blue lace underwear held me still. Her wild red hair tumbled against the golden pillow like a scattering of autumn leaves. She glowed with youth and vitality. An odd prickling made my chest tight.
Melissa’s gaze roved over me. For the first time, a shadow of uncertainty flickered in her cocky demeanor. “Is everything okay? Do you want to stop?”
I drew a breath, trying to clear my head and ignore my pang of guilt. It had been five years. If not now, then when?
