Page 50 of Into the Fire

Without saying anything, I crossed the kitchen and kissed him.

I walked him back a step into the counter. He reached around me and slid his hands up under my untucked flannel shirt, flat and warm against my back. I slipped a hand into his hair and tugged.

His breath caught.

I stopped and looked at him, pulling back from the kiss.

“That’s interesting.”

“Shut up.”

I did it again, slower this time. He gasped as his head fell back, exposing his throat.

“Oh, that’s very interesting.”

“Dante.”

“For two seasons I flirted with you. Now I get to investigate the wiring.”

“You’re enjoying this.”

“You aren’t?” I kissed just beneath his ear. His hands tightened on my back.

He pulled a hand around the front and started to unbutton my shirt. “Dante.” His voice was rough. We were already done pretending there was a version of the night where I drove back down to the base. “Bedroom’s behind you.”

“I know,” I said. “If it weren’t down the hall, I would have seen it by now.”

He laughed against my throat. I kissed him again, and we went down the hall like that, a little off balance. My shoulder hit the doorframe.

His bedroom matched the rest of the house. The bed was tightly made, and there was a single lamp on a side table.

I started unbuttoning his shirt. This time we weren’t tired, and nothing got knocked over.

I took my time. I was on the third button when Boone pushed my shirt off my shoulders. He started to help me with his, but I knocked his hands away, finishing at my speed while he stood there and smoldered.

Boone reached for the buckle of his belt, and I nodded. Seconds later, we were both naked.

“On the bed,” I said.

“Giving orders now?”

“You’ve been giving them for nearly six weeks. I’m qualified now.”

Boone lay back on the bed and let me look at him. He was broad through the shoulders, chest thick with muscle built by hard work. He had brown hair scattered across it and down his stomach.

His arms were stronger than they looked in a work shirt. There were scars I hadn’t known about: a white line near one shoulder, and another along his ribs.

“You’re staring.”

“I’ve earned this.”

“How?”

“Deferred compensation.”

I climbed onto the bed with him. We fit better horizontally than we had against a desk. I slowly explored his body with my mouth, alternating kisses with light flicks of the tongue.

Boone hissed and tried to pull me up and take over, but I kept pinning his wrists to the mattress and going back to what I was doing. The third time he stopped fighting while his cock thickened and pulsed beneath me.