Sexy Book Excerpt: Career Woman Meets Hunky Firefighter In This NSFW Scene
PR guru and fiercely independent woman Kinsey Taylor came to Chicago to start over; and, with a new hotshot job in the mayor’s office, it seems Kinsey might finally get everything she’s ever wanted — as long as delectable firefighter Luke Almeida, whose image Kinsey’s been tasked with rehabilitating, doesn’t cause too many distractions…
“I think it’s time you realized how goddamn sexy you are, Miss Taylor.”
“But we — we can’t. Did you not hear a word I said about keeping it prof —” She lost her train of thought because Luke’s sandpaper-rough hands had started swirling tight, erotic circles on her back . . . her hips . . . her ass.
“I’ve — I’ve given up on men.”
“Wait until tomorrow, baby.” He nuzzled along the line of her jaw, his lips igniting volcanic heat across her skin. “Today, let this man take care of you the way you need.” His hands kneaded her rear in a way that made her mindless with desire.
“I can take care of myself,” she moaned, then added, “and my orgasms,” in case her implication was unclear.
She felt the curve of his lips in a smile against her neck. “I don’t doubt it, but why should you have to?”
“Luke, stop. You’re already in enough trouble —”
But trouble was what found her when Luke’s lips brutally claimed hers. His hand shaped her neck, his thumbs held her jaw in place for his assault. She surrendered, no fight left in her, no longer wanting to be the difficult woman. She let him work her mouth, slide his tongue inside, map the roof of her mouth. She let him use her.
He broke the kiss, his eyes hazy with a strange brew of lust and compassion. “That’s okay, baby. Next time, I expect your full participation, but right now I’m drivin’ this train.”
Yes. She was so tired of trying to do it all, wear the pants and the skirt. Giving herself permission to submit was as arousing as anything Luke Almeida brought to the table.
He turned her so she faced the cracked mirror, its luster diminished but still bright enough to show her body’s potent reaction to this astonishingly sexy man. Nipples a lot perkier than she felt, hair the wrong side of sexy tousled.
“You need to see how beautiful you are, Kinsey. How powerful.”
Trailing a blunt hand along the border of her bikini bottoms, he tested the boundaries. She shuffled her feet apart. His grin turned disgracefully wicked.
“Do you want to direct?”
“No, just do it right, Luke. Make it good.”
He bit down on her earlobe, a tender puncture to that sensitive flesh, then yanked her bikini bottoms halfway down her thighs so roughly she gasped at the contrast. Moisture flooded her sex at the thought of what would come next.
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One strong forearm banded beneath her breasts while his other hand tunneled through her tawny curls, parting her swelling folds to where she was already shockingly hot and slick. Reaching up, she cupped the back of his head and set anchor. He kissed her wrist over her rocketing pulse.
“That’s my girl,” he whispered. “Hold on tight.”
He slid a finger inside her.
Then, giving her the intimate stretch she needed, a mind-melting two.
“You really need this, don’t you? You need me deep inside you, baby.”
“Yes. God, yes.” Every fluid thrust massaged her clit perfectly on the return, and increased the spirals of want low in her belly. The raging evidence of his own need jutted into her spine.
“There, right there.” She grasped his hand and pressed it closer to where she needed it.
He chuckled. “Seems you can’t resist taking charge.”
Mind in a blur, she froze. That’s what David had hated. Her assumption of the role of aggressor, her pleading for him to deliver more than he had to give.
The rules were so hard to follow.
“Don’t stop, Kinsey. If you need to tell me what makes you feel good, do it. I’m yours to command.”
Thoughts vaporized. Muscles dissolved. Desire flew loose in her core as those words smashed her senseless.
“I need . . .”
“What, baby? Tell me what you need.”
This. You. Everything you have.
“Your fingers . . . your fingers spreading me. A little rougher than —…” Oh! He followed her instructions, the callused sides of his rough-cast fingers abrading her sensitive folds as he plunged inside her.
“And my breasts. Squeeze my nipples.”
His meaty paw yanked away, then replaced, the triangle of fabric over her aching breast. He covered her easily, molding her soft flesh to his rough ministrations.
“Please, Luke,” she begged. “More.”
Another bite on her earlobe, a further pinch of her nipple, and he adapted quickly to her raw, desperate needs. An invisible thread of pleasure shot straight to her sex and produced another gush of pleasure on his hand.
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The blatant look of male satisfaction on his face said he approved.
Faster, he rubbed against that taut bundle of nerves, drawing the blistering sensation to a peak. All she could do was writhe. And watch. And feel. His dark, cocoa skin against her gilded flesh heightened their contrasts, yet also showed how well they complemented each other. She stood cradled in his arms, half dressed, a sleazy mess, which made it filthier and sexier and so, so good.
You can purchase a full copy of Flirting with Fire here.
About the author: Originally from Ireland, Kate Meader cut her romance reader teeth on Maeve Binchy and Jilly Cooper novels, with some Mills & Boon thrown in for variety. Give her tales about brooding mill owners, oversexed equestrians and men who can rock an apron or a fire hose, and she’s there. Now based in Chicago, she writes sexy contemporary romance with alpha heroes and strong heroines who can match their men quip for quip. Visit her at KateMeader.com.