Burnin' Up Memphis: Firehouse 69, Book 1 (8 page)

He glanced over at Anton, who was chuckling, wickedly, his eyes squinting he was enjoying himself so much. At his expense. So Moira had more in store for him than just a soft back-and-forth brush across his buttocks. The swishing continued until he felt small cold fingers creeping up between his legs. He darted a glance downward to find Britney scrunched down behind him, her hands now cupping his balls.

Coop shot another glance over his shoulder. Anton had moved beside Moira and was passing her a more lethal-looking flogger with longer strands and knots at the ends. Something he’d used on Britney’s ass once her skin had been warmed up. Phase two, Anton had said.

The first pass of the cat-of-nine-tails took his breath. Not from pain, but from surprise. Or maybe it was Britney’s mouth sucking on his balls. Whichever. He couldn’t believe his girlfriend allowed it, but Moira was open to things like sharing her man’s dick so long as they both drew pleasure from it and he wasn’t screwing anyone else’s pussy—the one taboo they’d agreed on. Coop wanted to add a whole laundry list of taboos, but Moira had pressed her finger against his lips. “Don’t say something you might want to take back one day.”

Then she’d made him forget what he’d been so worried about. Maybe he should have been thinking about taboos that involved whatever it was she had in mind for him now.

But thinking and worrying took too much concentration. While she swished leather across his back, around his sides, over his buttocks, he swayed with the pleasure. Lord, there was pleasure. More than just the firm hand rolling on a condom, the hot mouth traveling up and down his cock. Moira was putting him in a trance, sub-space, she’d called it. He surrendered to it, taking deeper and deeper breaths. And then the warmth left his cock and leather slapped his inner thighs, working higher and higher.

He held his breath, sure she was only teasing, that she knew it would be too much. But leather brushed his balls and wrapped around them from beneath, the barbed ends flipping up to slap his cock and his groin.

He hissed between his teeth and tensed as stroke after stroke slapped him in places no man ought to be slapped.

But slowly, he realized he liked it. Liked the edgy fear of wondering whether she’d make a mistake. Liked the warmth of his leather-stung skin. A lethargy sent him reeling, swaying, and he met Anton’s gaze, letting the other man see the pleasure drugging his senses.

Slowly, the chains above him loosened. Britney appeared and leaned her naked breasts against his chest as she reached to unfasten the manacles. Arms embraced him from behind and a soft body snuggled against him.

Warmth spread through his chest, surrounded him. He knew what he felt. Love and acceptance. He caught one of Moira’s hands and pulled her around him. When they faced each other, he tugged her to the floor.

The other two could watch if they wanted, but he had to be inside her. Now.

“I like the boots,” he murmured.

She arched a brow. “I liked spanking your balls.”

“Won’t happen again.”

“Never say never,” she sang and then laughed.

Coop was sure he’d never allow that to happen again, but he contented himself for now with capturing her hands and pulling them high above her head. With spreading her thighs with shoves of his knees. With entering her on a single, desperate thrust.

Everything he desired was here. Surrounding him, beneath him. Silver eyes. A cloud of red hair. A smart, lush mouth. “I want more, Moira,” he whispered. More days like these. More endless hours of pleasure followed by lazy respite. With her.

“I want everything you have to give,” she whispered back. “Now give me your cock.”

“You still in charge?”

She gave him a trembling smile. “No. Sir.”

Coop cut off his engine and stared at the firehouse. Through the open doors, he watched as his friends from the previous shift slapped shoulders and bumped fists with those coming to relieve them. No longer did he feel the dread that had dogged him since the day Danny died. Sure, he missed him, and he made a silent vow to stop in and check on Melody tomorrow after his shift ended. Danny would remain a part of his past. He’d see his family was well taken care of.

But right now, he enjoyed the quiet inside him. He felt strangely at peace. He climbed out of his car and reached behind his seat for his duffel filled with fresh clothing. Rather than approaching the open bay, he headed to a side door, wanting the quiet to last just a few minutes more.

His body was relaxed, loose-limbed. He smiled at the memory of the way Moira had wound herself around him to hold him when the alarm had gone off inside her bedroom. “I’m not ready,” she’d groaned. “One more day.”

“We have many more days,” he’d promised, giving her a kiss goodbye.

Inside, he headed straight to the locker room. His glance snagged on the locker beside his, but this time, he didn’t feel a fresh cut. The new guy, Harris, could take the locker. He’d wish him well. He just hoped the rookie had a little horse sense and wouldn’t need to be watched 24/7 just to keep him alive.

A hand reached out and lifted the latch of Danny’s locker.

Coop cut a sideways glance and met a steady stare from a man a little older than he’d expected. And from the tattoo on his arm, he was ex-military, like a lot of new recruits. Men came from active duty still feeling the need to serve, but in a different way. Closer to home.

Coop was okay with that. He lifted his chin toward the locker. “You have big shoes to fill.”

“So I hear,” Harris said, a glint of challenge in his eyes.

Coop cleared his throat. “Danny Truitt was my best friend. He’s missed. Has a wife and a kid on the way.”

“I’d like to meet her. See if there’s anything I can do to help…mow her yard, get her groceries.”

“The wives organize support. But we can check in on her and I’ll introduce you.” Coop lifted his hand.

Harris’s strong grip squeezed his knuckles, but Coop could only smile. He wondered if Purcell would be shocked when he called and asked for an appointment. Maybe he was ready to talk after all. Let go of the past. Clear his mind and his heart to make more room for another friend. “Welcome to Firehouse 69, Harris.”

About the Author

Delilah Devlin is a
New York Times
and
USA TODAY
bestselling author of erotica and erotic romance with a rapidly expanding reputation for writing deliciously edgy stories with complex characters. She has published over a hundred thirty erotic stories in multiple genres and lengths. She is published by Atria/Strebor, Avon, Berkley, Black Lace, Cleis Press, Ellora’s Cave, Grand Central, Harlequin Spice, HarperCollins: Mischief, Kensington, Montlake Romance, Running Press and Samhain Publishing. In May 2014, she added Grand Central to her list of publishers.

You can find Delilah all over the web:
www.delilahdevlin.com
,
www.twitter.com/DelilahDevlin
, or email her at:
[email protected]
.

Look for these titles by Delilah Devlin

Now Available:

Saddled

Stone’s Embrace

Undeniable

Lone Star Lovers

Unbridled

Unforgiven

Four Sworn

Breaking Leather

A Four-Gone Conclusion

Reined In

Delta Heat

Five Ways ’Til Sunday

Fournicopia

A Perfect Trifecta

Twice the Bang

The TripleHorn Brand

Laying Down the Law

In Too Deep

A Long, Hot Summer

Beaux Rêve Coven

Once in a Blue Moon

Coming Soon:

Sweeter Than Honey

Who says it’s better to share your toys?

Twice the Bang

© 2013 Delilah Devlin

Delta Heat, Book 4

Beau McIntyre has had his eye on Pansy Patton for a while. But after their friends’ coming out party—where Pansy wears nothing but a sexy smile—Beau isn’t the only one jockeying for the best view of her pretty backside. Realizing it was a mistake to opt for a drawn-out seduction, Beau plans on staking his claim.

Billy Sorenson knows he’s out of his league with a submissive like Pansy, but it was lust at first sight. Now he’ll do whatever it takes to have her, even if he has to be penciled into her schedule for equal time.

A smoking-hot firefighter with ice-blue eyes, or a mysterious cop…what’s a girl to do? Pansy has the answer: refuse to choose and savor the consequences of both men pursuing her.

Doe she expect her lovers to play fair? Oh, no. She’s hoping they’ll play dirty.
Real
dirty…

Warning:
Contains m/f/m and f/f/m scenes, paintball and other sexy ball games, flogging, and one wild orgy of pleasure.

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Twice the Bang:

As they drove to the Italian restaurant where Billy had made reservations, Pansy watched the handsome firefighter from the corner of her eye. He was all wrong for her. A vanilla guy who didn’t understand the first thing about what a girl like her needed.

And yet she couldn’t do the right thing. Couldn’t tell him take her home and forget about seeing her again. There was something about him she really liked.

Didn’t hurt he was easy to look at. Tall and thickly muscled
everywhere
, he looked like a Viking come to life. Only with short, bristly blond hair. And with pale, penetrating eyes that were completely swoon worthy.

The first time she’d felt that arctic-blue gaze settle on her naked body at the party, she’d felt an electric spark sizzle across her skin. She’d been so excited her nipples had tightened as though pinched by naughty fingers.

Or maybe it was the added bonus that Beau’s whole body had stiffened beside hers as Billy had approached. She’d been trying to get Beau’s attention for the longest while, every time he entered the club. At last, that night, he’d given a hint of jealous possessiveness regarding her.

Billy’s expression had been open for anyone to read. Predatory, stark, his gaze raking her nude body and snagging for long moments on her breasts and bare mound. His chest beneath his orange University of Tennessee T-shirt had expanded. His arms had tensed, both displaying impressive bulges, but not a show he’d purposely given. He’d just been in a rush to reach her. A heat-seeking missile homing in on a hot target like the ones she’d watched on the news.

She’d never gotten that reaction from a man before. She’d been nude in many settings—at the club, at private meet ’n’ greets, at BDSM conventions—but she was used to polite interest, not the hungry intensity she’d felt all the way to her bare toes.

She’d creamed on the spot and then wondered how to hide the evidence, clamping together her thighs.

Beau hadn’t missed much. His quiet, watchful gaze had studied her and then looked at Billy. If she hadn’t noted the tension lending a sharper edge to his already taut jaw, she wouldn’t have known he was jealous.

That was something unexpected, because Beau McIntyre was a bit of a mystery. The other female subs at the club wondered about him, talked about him in the female locker room. They knew he was Mondo’s friend, and that increased his cred exponentially, because every girl wanted a go with Mondo and paid close attention to his attractive crew of friends.

She’d played with Mondo, been his demo girl a time or two, but only that many because he liked a sub who could take a more intensive S&M session than she could endure. And truth be told, he scared her.

But Beau had always fascinated her. From his tall, buff frame, his bald head, and stark features, he was handsome enough to give her butterflies just looking at him. His heritage was a mixture of African American, Asian, and by his last name, Celt, but his expression was all inscrutable Asian. What he thought or felt was something he didn’t divulge. He posed a challenge.

For the longest time, she’d wanted to get him alone, get him naked and see whether he could manage to hide what he thought without giving a telltale twitch.

Seeking sanctuary could be the hottest mistake she ever made.

Laying Down the Law

© 2012 Delilah Devlin

The TripleHorn Brand, Book 1

A lifetime ago, Zuri Prescott kicked the dirt off her boots and ditched her small-time small town for the glam city life—and lived to regret it. When she’s framed for a bank job, she lights out for home, seeking refuge with her old high school sweetheart while she figures out her next steps. Only she discovers that the boy she left behind is the last man she should trust.

Sheriff Colt Triplehorn knows trouble when he sees it, especially when it comes in the form of a familiar trespasser, caught naked between an angry bull and her underwear. Sure she’s up to her usual no good, he grants her sanctuary at his ranch—the better to keep an eye on her, and purge her from his system once and for all.

Reconnection is sweet and hot, but the heat can’t hide the truth. When Colt inevitably finds out the truth, it’s too late to put the fire out, and he’s got a career-compromising choice on his hands. Follow the letter of the law, or follow his heart.

Warning: When a sheriff captures the girl who got away, expect revenge so hot it leaves brands on two lonely hearts...

Enjoy the following excerpt for
Laying Down the Law:

Zuri bit back a complaint, wishing he’d quit hovering because he was keeping her on edge. But when he didn’t budge, she dragged her feet to the bed, scooped up the wash-softened cotton and turned toward the bathroom.

“Uh uh,” he said, tsking softly. “My house. My clothes.
My rules
.”

She glanced over her shoulder, not knowing if she’d heard him right, but that same hard challenge he’d issued when he’d demanded the kiss was stamped all over his granite features.

She knew she ought to ignore him and lock herself into the bathroom to dress and gather her scattered wits, but the underlying tension riding the edge of his jaw excited her.

Colt had never been this dominating…except when they had sex. She’d loved it then. Her body seemed to crave it now. Heat bloomed again, winding around her core. A delicious little thrill accelerated her heartbeats.

Without a saying a word, she walked back to the bed and tossed down the clothing. Then keeping her gaze glued to his, she slowly untied the belt and let the robe fall open. With a sexy shrug, she let it slide off her shoulders and pool behind her on the floor.

Colt blinked first. His gaze trailed downward. His throat worked around a tense swallow, and Zuri couldn’t help the smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. He might think he was in charge, but she knew better. Colt liked what he saw.

His quickening breaths were the first clue. The curving of his fists the second. When he opened his stance, just a few inches, she nearly crowed.

Reaching for the cotton pants, she wished she had something sexier to slide inside, then wondered if she’d lost her good sense to think that way. She had enough problems on her plate. But how could she dress and prevent him seeing what this was doing to her? Bending and opening her legs to step into the sweatpants made her feel vulnerable, exposed in a way that just standing there naked hadn’t. “I don’t understand you, or why you’re doin’ this.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I guess that’s true. It’s been a long time.”

“You didn’t know me then.”

She pulled the pants upward, over the curve of her bottom, feeling a little less off-center now that her lower half was hidden from his view. The waist of the pants settled on her hips and she rolled the band to gather up the excess fabric. “Guess that’ll have to do,” she muttered.

As she dragged the T-shirt over her head, she reminded herself why she was here. Definitely not to play games with her ex-boyfriend. She needed a safe place to stay. And she needed to keep Colt clueless until she had a chance to find her car and get rid of the damning evidence before the police found it. Her story might sound a little more believable then.

When she’d pulled the fabric down, fully covering her body, only then did she raise her glance to Colt’s again.

His brows pulled together. “Gonna tell me what’s going on? Why you’re here?”

“I’m a little hungry,” she said, knowing her attempt to stall was completely transparent. “I don’t suppose I could eat first?”

Colt dropped his fists and stepped closer, forcing her chin higher to hold his steady gaze. “If you’re in trouble…”

What? He’d help? She didn’t think so. Colt appeared to be the same inflexible cowboy. He’d always judged a person’s actions as either black or white, right or wrong. No interesting muddying of the colors accepted. She’d forgotten that about him.

She pondered telling him part of the tale, but worried he’d use what he learned to play with her some more. He seemed to like that fact he held the reins.

Zuri licked her lips. “I need a place to stay. Just for a little while.”

His gray eyes, once so warm and open, narrowed. A muscle flexed alongside his jaw.

She waited him out, knowing he wasn’t satisfied with her response. The longer the moment stretched between them, the more uncomfortable she grew. Still holding his steady gaze, she shifted her bare feet, supremely conscious of the fact she wasn’t wearing a stitch of underwear and that his clothing, while freshly laundered, still carried the hint of his unique scent. She was at his mercy. Completely.

Colt inhaled deeply, and then issued a soft, masculine grunt. He reached down and closed his hand around hers, then tugged her closer to the bed. He sat on the edge, staring at their hands before he looked up. “If you stay…you’ll sleep here,” he said, his voice tense and ragged.

Zuri wet her lips with her tongue because her mouth had suddenly gone dry. What he proposed sounded both so…wrong, yet incredibly tempting. She couldn’t get words past her tightening throat. If she could have, she didn’t know whether she would have told him to go to hell or given him a breathless yes. Instead, she squeezed his fingers.

So many thoughts swirled in her mind. Their past, her impossibly complicated present. It sounded so simple. She’d sleep beside him. Make love with him. Maybe she’d even find out that her memories of their being together were painted in rosy hues because she’d been younger, and he’d been her first.

Perhaps in exchange he’d give her clothes and money so that she could make a graceful exit.

Zuri crowded closer to his knees, tilting her chin.

Colt’s lips curved slightly at the corners, and although his gaze remained narrow, he scooted back.

She climbed over his lap, facing him, her thighs sliding over the outside of his, not saying a word, following her instincts although they’d led her down treacherous paths before. She slipped her hand alongside his neck, felt the heavy thrum of his pulse and bent down, her mouth hovering above his. “Think you can keep this uncomplicated, cowboy?”

A deep, throaty groan seeped between his lips, and she leaned into him, settling over the ridge throbbing beneath the placket of his jeans. She could do this. She could take what she wanted from him without losing her heart again. It was just sex.