Page 42 of Christmas with Three Firemen

The equipment room is small and warm, and the overhead light is steady, and the rest of the station feels very far away.

He crosses the room.

He doesn’t ask. He just opens his arms, and I walk into them, and his arms come around me, and I press my face against his shoulder and breathe.

He’s warm, which shouldn’t surprise me but does, solid and warm and smelling of cold air and the faint chemical ghost of smoke.

We stand there for a moment like that. Not performing anything. Not building to anything.

Then his head dips and mine tilts up, and it isn’t planned; it’s just the next true thing.

This is different from the kitchen. The kitchen was playful and then suddenly wasn’t. This starts honest and stays there. There’s no performance in it, no question being asked. Just the particular intimacy of shared relief finding the only shape it knows how to take.

He backs me up against the nearest wall between two rows of hanging gear, his hands sliding under my jacket to grip my waist. The kiss turns deep and urgent. All the fear and relief from the call pours into it. I can still see him standing next to that fuel tank in my head, and it makes me kiss him harder.

He pulls back just enough to rest his forehead against mine. His breathing is rough.

“You’re so fuckin cute when you do things like this,” he says quietly.

Mateo drops to his knees in front of me. He looks up as he opens my jeans and slowly drags them down my legs along with my underwear.

His hands are warm against my skin as he helps me step out of them. Then he leans in and starts kissing me. Soft, open-mouthed kisses along the inside of my thighs, across my hips, and over my lower stomach.

I watch him and feel a rush of heat that has nothing to do with the adrenaline anymore. He looks incredibly hot like this.

On his knees, focused completely on me, dark hair messy from the call and snow. His eyes are heavy with want but still so warm. It makes something tight and aching bloom low in my belly.

“You are so beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin between kisses. “I swear I can’t stop thinking about how lucky I am right now.”

He spreads my thighs gently and leans forward. The first slow lick of his tongue through my folds makes my breath catch.

He groans softly, like tasting me is the best thing he has ever experienced. He takes his time, licking long and thorough, exploring every part of me with his mouth.

I feel exposed and wanted at the same time. My heart is still racing from the earlier fear, but now it mixes with a deep, pulsing arousal. Every stroke of his tongue sends sparks up my spine. I slide one hand into his hair, fingers tightening as he finds my clit and circles it with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Mateo,” I breathe.

He hums against me, and the vibration makes my thighs tremble. He slides two fingers inside me slowly, curling them deep while his mouth stays focused on my clit, sucking gently.

The feeling is overwhelming. I can feel how wet I am, how eagerly my body responds to him. He is so focused, so completely into this, and it makes me feel desired in a way I have not let myself feel in a long time.

He pulls back for a moment, pressing soft kisses to my inner thighs and mound. His voice is low and rough when he speaks.

“You taste so fucking good,” he says. “I could do this for hours. I love how you feel on my tongue.”

Then his mouth returns, hungrier this time. He licks and sucks with steady devotion, fingers thrusting in a slow rhythm that matches his tongue. The pleasure builds heavier and hotter inside me.

My hips start moving against his face, and he moans in encouragement, gripping my thigh with his free hand to hold me steady.

The mix of emotions is dizzying. Relief that he is safe. Fear from how close it was. And now this intense, aching want.

I find him so incredibly hot on his knees, worshiping me like this, that it almost scares me how much I need it.

When the orgasm finally hits, it crashes through me hard. My back arches and my fingers tighten in his hair as waves of pleasure roll over me. Mateo keeps licking me gently through it, drawing it out, pressing tender kisses to my sensitive skin afterward like he does not want to stop.

Even as I come down, still breathing hard and trembling, he stays on his knees. He kisses my hips and stomach softly, like he is grounding both of us.

His hands run up the backs of my thighs, warm and steady. I look down at him and feel another wave of heat roll through me. The sight of Mateo Ruiz on his knees, lips shiny, eyes dark with want but still so full of that warm affection, makes something deep inside my chest tighten.