Even long moments later, after he comes inside me—bucking into me with enough force to lift me off the bed—I still haven’t completely recovered.
I’m trembling as he hugs me to his chest and rolls over, shifting until he’s on top.
“You okay?” he asks, kissing my forehead.
“I think you broke my nervous system.” I curl into him, pressing my face to his bare chest, loving the way he smells after sex.
He chuckles and smooths my hair from my face. “In the good way, I hope.”
I hum my agreement before slipping my tongue out to tease the damp skin at the center of his chest, relishing the salty, sexy taste of him. The lick turns into a kiss, then another lick, and before I know it my teeth are raking over his taut nipple and his breath is coming faster and I’m heating up all over again.
“I have to go,” he says, groaning as I nip him again. “How come no one else realizes what a bad influence you are?”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help myself,” I say. “I’m insatiable when it comes to—”
“Maddie? Are you okay?” calls a familiar voice from downstairs, making my eyes fly wide.
“It’s Naomi! Get dressed!” I hiss, pulling away from him so fast I tumble off the side of the bed with a loud thunk.
“Shit,” he curses softly. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” I call out, answering both him and my sister as I scramble to my feet and dive for my skirt and panties at the end of the bed. “Just had a spill and came up to grab a fresh shirt. I’ll be down in a second,” I continue, my heart pounding as I struggle into my skirt and scurry over to grab my bra.
“You want me to take the dirty one home to wash?” Naomi’s question is followed by footsteps on the stairs.
“No!” I shout, panic making my voice louder than I intend it to be. Jamison’s still only half-dressed and I’m in my bra. If Naomi sees us now there will be no doubt what we’ve been up to.
“Um, no, don’t worry about it,” I stammer, my hands shaking as I wrench open a drawer, snatch the first T-shirt I lay hands on, and pull it over my head.
“It’s no trouble,” she says, still plodding up the stairs like a horror movie monster pursuing its prey. “I know you don’t have a washing machine here, and since Noelle came home I do at least two loads a day.”
She prattles on, saying something about how amazing it is that someone so small can make so much laundry, but I’m not listening. I’m too busy racking my brain, trying to think of a place to hide the half-naked firefighter in my bed.
I’m motioning for Jamison to run to the corner, hoping I can keep Naomi from looking in that direction, when he takes matters in his own hands. He drops to the ground, rolling under the bed and out of sight mere seconds before Naomi appears at the door.
“Hand it over, no arguments,” she finishes, propping her hands on her hips.
“Hand what over?” I ask, my heart still pounding so fast I feel a little light-headed.
She shoots me a strange look. “The shirt.” Her eyes drift down to my chest and back up again, and she frowns. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
I glance down, trying not to wince as I realize I’ve put on my ancient Bliss River Buckeyes shirt from high school. “I’m fine.” I force a smile as I put an arm around Naomi and gently, but forcefully turn her back toward the stairs. “But I refuse to let you do laundry for me. I’ll come over sometime this week and do a few loads if I need to. No big deal. Now, I should get the sign flipped back to open before we lose customers.”
Naomi continues to frown, but thankfully allows me to lead her down the stairs. “Okay,” she says. “But I really don’t mind.”
“So, what happened? Did you forget something?” I ask, praying she hasn’t decided to come back to work.
If so, there’s no way I’ll be able to smuggle Jamison out of my apartment without Naomi spotting him. The only exits are through the bakery, and even if he makes a break for it down the fire escape, the ladder drops down right in front of Icing’s front window.
Naomi sighs as we step off the bottom stair. “Yeah. I promised Greta I’d bring her chocolate croissants. It totally slipped my mind until I was at the end of Main Street.”
“You should have called me,” I scold her as I hustle across the tile to flip the sign. “I could have dropped some by your house and they would have been waiting for her tomorrow morning.”
“I know.” She moves behind the counter, snagging one of the pink to-go boxes and loading it with croissants. “But I’ve forgotten twice already. She asked me two days ago. I didn’t want to forget them again.”
I nod and sweep imaginary crumbs from a table near the door, resisting the urge to cast a glance at the stairs and praying Naomi will hit the road before Jamison is forced to head back to work.
Surely his ten minutes are nearly up?
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Naomi asks, lingering beside me on her way to the door.
I nod a little too enthusiastically. “I’m great. Why?”
“Nothing, I guess.” She shrugs and reaches for the door. “See you tomorrow. Call me if you decide you want to come by for supper, okay?”
“Will do. Bye.” I hover near the window, waiting until I’m certain Naomi is in her car and pulling out onto Main Street before I call up the stairs. “The coast is clear!”
Seconds later, Jamison pounds down into the bakery, a wicked grin on his face. “Well, that was fun.”
“It was not,” I say, slapping his chest as he pauses to steal a quick kiss on his way by. “That was way too close. We can’t ever meet here, or anywhere else we might be caught, ever again.”
He laughs, earning himself another slap before he pulls away and starts for the door.
“I’m serious,” I call after him. “We have to be more careful.”
He glances over his shoulder, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or more sneaky.”
I bite my lip. “I’m not good at being sneaky. Maybe we should just cool it until after the wedding, or—”
“Nope. No way. I can’t go without fucking you that long,” he says, sending a thrill rushing through all my recently ravished parts. “I’ll figure something out. Just relax and keep your eyes open for top secret communications.”
I arch a brow but can’t help but grin. “Top secret communications? Are you going to send me smoke signals from the roof of the firehouse?”
“Something like that.” He winks and reaches for the door. “Later, beautiful.”
“Later,” I echo, a warm, excited feeling filling my chest.
I’m not sure sneaking around with Jamison is good for my blood pressure, but it sure is fun.
Chapter Ten
Jamison
Saturday mornings have always been one of my favorite times at the firehouse—the scent of waffles and eggs and coffee brewing, the roar of laughter and conversation as husbands and wives and extended family gather in the break room setting up folding tables, the shouts as kids run around playing soccer on the grass behind the station, waiting for brunch to be ready.