Fireman Daddy - Taryn Quinn Page 0,7

to play, no less.

Mostly Jake. Danny never had a handle on the angles like Jake. My ex used to get bored and wander off to try to charm Rita into giving him beer.

Memories tumbled free. Laughter and the jukebox playing well into the night. Curfew bent on dozens of nights, thanks to endless quarters fed into the table or the juke.

I walked around the perimeter and grabbed one of the pool cues off the wall. I heard Jake’s heavy boots on the scarred floor, so I knew he’d followed. “And just how is this not regulation?” I swung it above the green felt recklessly. The chalk-stained tip grazed his belt buckle.

To Jake’s credit, he didn’t even flinch. He simply took off his sunglasses and tucked them in the pocket of his pristine white T-shirt, then tossed his jacket on the foosball table. He eased the cue out of my hands and circled the table slowly.

I backed up into the wall.

“Your proof is right there.”

I frowned up at him. “What, that you’re crowding me?”

“There should be a minimum of five feet on every side of the pool table.” He stepped in front of me, and the space shrank. His shoulders seemed extra massive with the denim shirt over his white T-shirt. My skin flushed from the heat coming off him.

Memories battered me. Jake had always run hot. His skin had been like a furnace on all those late nights on his bike when he’d rescued me after I’d fought with Danny. Keeping me warm and safe.

His chest brushed along the buttons of my dress. “Does it seem like there is five feet of space right here, Freckles?”

No, there was no damn space.

And I didn’t mind.

Five

Her chest heaved and our height difference gave me a damn good point of view. Erica had been blessed by the gods in the breast department. Not too big, but more than a handful for sure. They pushed at the black material of her dress, begging to be freed.

My mouth watered, and my dick was definitely on board with that idea.

“Why did Sharkey get away with it for years?”

My gaze locked on her lush lower lip. Her lipstick had worn away, leaving her natural pink. I wanted a taste so fucking bad. I’d dreamed of that mouth throughout my formative years, and now that we were very much adults, my imagination made things even worse.

Because I knew the pleasures that could be held in just a kiss. As a teen, I’d been too focused on the end result. Too impatient to explore and enjoy.

Now I wanted to snack on her mouth, her breasts, and most definitely, her pussy. The borrowed sundress wasn’t quite her style. Probably out of Frankie’s closet, based on the length.

I’d thank her next time I saw her.

Only problem was, I’d come here with a plan. I would show her what needed to be done and offer to help her. I’d ingratiate myself and maybe even use the guys at the firehouse to prove our willingness to offer assistance. Anything to show her why she needed to stay.

All those ideas were dust now.

My impulse control had always been shit when it came to this woman. I prided myself on the rules and order of my job. For once, I didn’t want to control my urges in her direction.

I didn’t want to be the good guy.

I wanted to take.

“Because no one fucking cared until me, Freckles.” I moved in until my knee slipped between her thighs.

Her sweet breath puffed against my neck, and I couldn’t quite bury a growl.

I set the stick against the wall, pinning her in place with my hips. I waited a heartbeat, then two. I didn’t trust myself quite yet. I’d wanted her for so damn long.

I planted my hands on either side of her. “Is this where you run? Or where you knee me in the balls for invading your space?” I lowered my mouth to her jawline and breathed her in. Some spicy floral scent that I was willing to wear on my skin for the rest of my life.

“Why are you doing this?” Her voice was barely a whisper.

I flicked my tongue over the pulse in her neck. Her heart was racing. I leaned back enough to peer into her huge dark eyes. There was a little fear, but mostly want.

For me.

Finally.

“Because wanting you for almost fifteen years is just too much to ask of one man.”

Her fingers twisted into my shirt. “What?”

I brushed my lips ever so