Seduction Squad (2 page)

Chapter Two

After washing the layers of soot and ash from my skin and hair, I emerged from my military-style shower with a towel wrapped around my waist and stood in front of the mirror above the sink. With the palm of my hand, I rubbed the steam from the glass, revealing hazel eyes flecked with darker tones of brown, fighting to stay open, staring lazily back at me. A couple of tired lines etched out the skin under my eyes, making me appear older than my twenty-one years. Dark, wet bronze strands of hair hung over my forehead and spiked around my ears. My cheekbones stood high against my thin face.

I swiped the towel hanging from the railing beside the faucet and began drying my hair. From my locker across the room I collected my singlet and a pair of loose gray track pants I used as pajama pants and slid them on, then, finally, I made it to bed. I flopped into mattress, the softness of my pillow molding around the weight of my head, but sleep didn’t want to sweep me away.

Instead, images from earlier repeated through my head. Only, they were worse. They were of the possibilities of what could have happened: if the floorboards had given out from under Lockland, if the ceiling had collapsed any more than it already had, or if he had been standing a couple of inches closer to me.

I shook my head, trying to force the thoughts and images from my mind. Shifting onto my side, I looked to the empty bed beside my own. It was weird. Even though we had never shared a bed at work, the room felt empty without Lockland’s presence. I wondered how he was—I should have insisted that Sam follow the ambulance so I could be with him.

I sighed and shifted again, kicking the blankets off. The heat of the bed and blankets was only a reminder of the heat that had filled the apartment. But without them, the ceiling fan spinning above my bed sent chills across my legs.

Prying open an eye, I looked to the digital red numbers illuminating my alarm clock. It was just after two. The crickets outside sang, taking the edge off my nerves, but still not enough to stop the images from rolling.

I flung myself upward and slid my legs over the side of the mattress, reaching for my pajama pants, lying on the floor. I tugged them on and padded through the squad’s on-call room, careful not to wake anyone as I headed for the main room. From the corner beside the trash can, I collected the dust pan and slid into the squad truck. There was always dust, ash, and soot left over from our boots and I needed my mind focused on something.

I began with the front seat, swiping the brush between the grooves and stitching of the driver and passenger seats, then moved to the backseat where the lighting was a little dimmer.

When my mind still refused to cooperate, I tried to change the direction of my thoughts by recalling the times Lockland and I had been together. The sensation of his lips caressing my own, the feeling of the tips of his fingers tracing the curves of my hips, pecs, and abs… I shuddered at the images now rolling through my mind, slowly lighting a flame deep within my core. I missed my boyfriend’s touch. It’d been a couple of weeks since we’d been together. And I was really beginning to yearn for the feel of his arms wrapped around my waist as his lips brushed the length of my neck while his hips pounded into me.

Then, like I’d spoken my wishes out loud to some crazy genie, what I yearned for slowly appeared, winding an arm around my stomach to grip my waist. His beautiful plump lips graced my jaw, teasing my skin with tiny nips. I leaned back into Lockland, whimpering as I tilted my head to the side, granting him access to the length of my neck.

“Lockland…” I breathed, reaching to cup the side of his face as he pressed his lips to that sweet spot between my neck and shoulder, igniting flames to surge through my system the instant his lips touched me. I moaned, leaning into his mouth. I shivered, gasping—shocks of pleasure coursed through my being. He knew all my hot spots, all the places that sent my body soaring with shudders of ecstasy. I parted my lips and let out a moan.

Hesitantly, he pulled away from my throat and caressed his lips across mine in feathery touches. I shuddered with chills while my heart pattered unevenly. Breath hitched in the back of my throat as my body urged me to take things further, but I gave in to Lockland’s touch, sensing his need to reassure me, and allowed him to have his moment. I moaned and leaned into his mouth nipping along my jawline.

Slowly, I pried my eyes open and I hesitantly pulled away to turn and face him. He supported his weight on his left hand, as his right wrist was bandaged and he held it protectively against his chest.    

“I’ve wanted to do that since you saved me.”

I smiled and tilted my head to the side. “Did you just get back?” I whispered, caressing the tips of my fingers the length of his jawbone.

He nodded, looking at his bandage.

“Are you okay?”

“A couple of bruises and grazes. This is just a sprain, but I have to rest it for forty-eight hours.” He raised his head, looking at me. “Why are you up here?”

“I couldn’t sleep.”

“Sooo… you’re cleaning?” A quirky smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. He tilted his head to the side, raising a brow. His deep blue gaze sparkled in the faint light filtering through the side windows. Brown strands of hair fell over his forehead. My insides fluttered.

“You know I get fitful when I’m restless.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, leaning forward to cup the side of my face. “I wonder if that expands beyond cleaning though.”

“Why don’t you find out?” I breathed, leaning forward to nip his upper lip.

He slid his hand from my face, down the length of my neck and over the thin fabric of my gray singlet, until his hand came to rest on the waistband of my pajama pants. His fingers dipped below my shirt, the tips skimming along the valleys of my stomach. He worked his way north, pushing my singlet up as high as it could go in the process.

I moaned and leaned back against my palms. The rubber matting flexed under the pressure of my fingers and dirt prickled my skin, but I didn’t care. Lock’s touch had captured my attention in every way imaginable. With the tip of his index finger, he stroked each individual ab, searing embers along my stomach. My insides tightened, churned, and lurched with desire. My cock rose for attention—Lockland’s attention. Like fire, the need to feel him filling the empty space inside me burned.

He dipped his fingers below my waistband and stroked the base of my dick. I gasped. Flames licked my length, sending tingling sensations along my erection and deep inside me. “Fuck… Yes.”

The warmth of his hand grasped my cock and pulled me out of my pants. With his thumb and index finger, he circled and rubbed my tip, sending vibrations throughout my system. I whimpered, pumping my hips a little, urging him to move his hand along my length, anything to increase friction. My cock twitched with pulsations of pleasure. His touch pulled at my sanity, sending my body into overdrive with want. He always pushed me to the limit, to the point where I didn’t think it could get any better and I couldn’t handle it anymore, until it did, and I did.

My heart skipped with anticipation. Slowly, he withdrew his hand and his fingers laced at the hem of my singlet, pulling the light fabric along my body. I raised my arms above my head and helped Lockland throw it to the side, where it landed in the shadow of a seat.

The truck was dimly lit but I was grateful—we’d surely be fired if we were caught, especially after earlier. But the risk added to the fun, enhanced the experience, like a fire roaring behind the glass of a furnace, waiting to be unleashed to lick and scorch any surface within reach. That was Lockland and me. But while on shift, we were forbidden from being together.

Chief had already given us a warning two years ago when we were nineteen and had just joined the station. But he didn’t understand—he didn’t grasp how hard it was, not knowing whether you’d see the other—the one you loved so much—at the other end of the call. Being a firefighter was dangerous enough, let alone being a Squad firefighter. We were the ones who headed inside the burning buildings, searching for those trapped or injured, while the others usually remained outside, extinguishing the flames. When we took this job, Lockland had promised we’d be together until the end, that nothing would separate us. And I planned on keeping that promise.

Lockland skimmed his hand along my ribs until I captured his wrist and pushed him back, pinning him against the back of the front seat. He steadied his weight on his palm as I twined our fingers. Slowly, he raised his head toward me. His white teeth gleamed in the faint light as his heavy, darkened gaze held mine. I cupped the side of his face and his eyes drifted closed, his head in my palm. Our lips brushed together. My body wanted to devour his.

Slowly, I slid my hand from his face and along his side until it reached the top of his hip. I curled my fingers around the hem of his shirt and eased it along his body. Lock raised his wrist from his chest to above his head. I threw the shirt aside and our mouths crashed together. My fingers dug into his shoulders as he sucked on my lower lip. I inhaled deeply as his musky scent infused with smoke and ash filled my senses and burned the lining of my throat.

I shifted to straddle hips and he moved to curl his lips around my nipple. I gasped and arched my back at the sensation of his tongue lapping at my sensitive bud. My heart thrummed under his tongue, increasing my breath to lagging pants. Lockland moved to swallow my whimpers while moaning into my mouth.

“Top me,” he breathed, pulling away and pressing foreheads together.

I pulled my lower lip between my teeth, biting down on it as I opened my eyes and stared at our chests almost touching. The tip of Lockland’s finger skimmed the length of my jaw until it came to the tip of my chin and lifted my head. But I dropped my gaze.

“You know I suck at topping—my dick’s not long enough for you.” I felt my cheeks heat as I flicked my gaze to his face. 

“I don’t care. I just want to feel you—just think of how I make you feel.”

“That’s just it, though. I can’t make you feel how you make me feel.” I wanted so much to make him feel the sensations he caused my body to experience. I yearned to hear him cry my name and know that he wasn’t just saying my name to make me feel better. And not being able to, hurt.

“Yes, you do,” he whispered, dropping his hand and pressed his lips to mine. “Please.”

I forced a smile and nodded, sweeping the tip of my finger along the shadows that curved and shaped Lock’s muscles. His pecs were perfectly round. His light tan nipples stood hard, begging for my touch and my mouth’s attention. Leaning forward, I wrapped my tongue around the sensitive flesh and sucked. Lockland bent his head back, inhaling slow, ragged breaths.

“Fuck,” he breathed, sweeping his hand along my shoulder and into my hair. His muscles quivered under my touch. I reached down his body and cupped his erection in my palm, gripping and circling it through the material of his jeans as I flicked the tip of my tongue against his bud. He tightened his fingers in my hair as I nipped the tender, soft flesh. The muscle quivered in reaction. “Shit… Adan.”

I grinned, feeling my confidence soar as I ran my tongue along the curve of his pec. His heart stammered beneath my touch. His ragged breaths caught in the center of his chest with every gasp. The lingering scent of smoke wafted off Lockland’s skin and tingled the insides of my nose.

Slowly, hesitantly, I pulled away. When Lockland opened his eyes, our gazes connected, feeling as though they held each other with a magnetic force that couldn’t be broken. He was so beautiful. Strands of chocolate-brown hair hung over his forehead. His light tan cheeks glowed a faint shade of pink, matching the dusty-pink tint of his lips. His oval face fit perfectly in my hand. My thumb brushed his high, sharp cheekbones as he leaned into my palm and the sides of his mouth lifted. 

Lockland turned his head, pressed his lips to my palm, and twined our fingers. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” I whispered, pushing him back to lie against the rubber floor and dominating his mouth with mine. I shifted to lean over him, straddling his hips. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, pulling me closer, deepening the kiss as he parted his lips and swallowed my moans, our tongues dancing. My mind and body whirled and spun in bliss, unable to get enough of Lockland. My being yearned for more, as though addicted to the simple acts Lock performed. Our breaths lagged, rugged and heavy. The truck raged hot and stuffy. Slowly, a thin layer of sweat began to sheen my skin.

He sucked on my lower lip, nibbling it between his teeth. I quivered and whimpered, my heart pounding as my cock strained in the tight confines of my underwear.

Lockland freed my hand and traced the tip of his finger along my jaw, down the length of my body, moving down over the hard ridges until he reached the waistband of my briefs. He caressed his finger over my tip, poking out above my pajama pants. I shuddered and exhaled as he shifted upward and took my nipple into his mouth.

“Lock,” I whimpered, sliding my hand along his muscled shoulder and up into his short damp hair. His mouth set my chest alight with warmth and pride. My heart skipped and my insides lurched. Pleasure pulsated throughout my being. I could hear my pulse ringing through my ears, sense blood raging hot and heavy through my veins.

The heat of Lockland’s hand against my stomach burned. I wanted so much for his hand to dip below that waistband and grip me, clutch me, work me, even if it was through the material of my briefs. I just wanted his hands on me, clinging to something. He traced the tip of his tongue along the curves of my pecs, driving me insane with his slow, teasing pace, easing a couple of inches farther down my body with every minute that passed.