The Problem with Fire - M.E. Clayton Page 0,26

wallet in my jeans that were tossed in the living room.

Yeah, we were going to have to talk about that.

“Oh, God…” Monroe rasped out, her body twitching beneath mine, her chest heaving, and her eyes closed.

Oh, God, indeed.

With the last of my seed spent, I collapsed beside her, pulling her with me. Her head was resting on my rib cage, her ass facing the edge of the bed. My mind was already ready for round two, but my body knew how old we were.

I didn’t want to ruin the afterglow, but it couldn’t be helped. “We didn’t use a condom,” I panted out. My breaths still coming heavy.

“I gathered that much when I rolled over and could feel us between my thighs,” she muttered, seemingly unconcerned. But I couldn’t ignore the thump in my chest when she said she felt us between her thighs.

“I haven’t been this stupid since high school,” I said, hoping she believed me. “Once life got serious in college, I got serious. I promise I’m clean as a whistle.”

“Whistles aren’t really clean, though, are they?” she remarked lethargically. “They have all that residue spit in them, don’t they?”

She was killing me. “Is it a problem or not, Monroe?”

I felt her shake her head against my chest. “No. I mean, obviously, I’m healthy, what with my dry spell and all, but we can use condoms,” she mumbled. “Either way works for me.”

This woman was insane. If I had the choice to use condoms or not with this woman, there was no way I was using them. I wanted to cover her from head to toe in my cum. I wanted her fucking marked. “If we get pregnant, we’re naming our son after me,” I said, letting her know my decision.

Monroe laughed, and it was the second best sound in the world next to her screaming my name. “No way, am I getting pregnant again, Sayer.”

Well, that settled that.

Chapter 13

Monroe~

I was really starting to hate Wednesdays. Normally, I was an advocate for Wednesdays. I mean it was hump day, for crying out loud. Who couldn’t get behind that?

But after having Sayer in my bed for the past three nights, it really sucked that I wouldn’t be seeing him for three days. During the breaks between sex, eating, and showering, we had talked a lot about his life and mine. And it was during those conversations that I had learned he worked a three, three, four, three rotation, and it sucked if you ignored the part where the man saved people and animals from fires.

I also learned that he had two younger brothers, Gideon and Nathan, and that Gideon was partners with their father in an engineering firm and that Nathan was goddamn Nathan Hayes. I was a sports girl, and I loved my football, baseball, basketball, and hockey. And even though I was a Dodgers fan, Nathan Hayes was Nathan freakin’ Hayes. He was going to be in the Baseball Hall of Fame one day, no doubt about it.

He had also told me all about his parents, Robert and Louise Hayes, and his best friend and fellow firefighter, Kellen, whom I had already met the day of the inspection. And I had told him all about Ernest and Jillian Stewart and Karma and her family, and it had felt…good.

And even if I hadn’t been attracted to Sayer’s body, face, and personality, his no-nonsense view on life had really sealed the deal. Yesterday, he had made it clear that we were in a relationship and it was one that he planned on seeing to the end. My stomach had dipped with that fear of this being too good to be true, but when he had gone on to slay all my dragons, I had been shocked.

Sayer had made it perfectly clear that our four-year age difference didn’t matter to him, and that children weren’t a must for him. He’d be content with Leta, and he knew his brothers wanted families, providing him with all the nieces and nephews he’d ever need. Then he had mentioned Leta’s future children, and I had melted into a puddle at the man’s feet.

But not having Leta this Wednesday and losing Sayer to another work stretch weren’t the reasons I was hating this particular Wednesday.

Nope.

It was the white Audi pulling into my driveway right behind me, blocking me in should I want to make an escape, that was turning this innocent Wednesday into an awful Wednesday.

I turned off my ignition, took a deep breath,