My Fake Husband Black, L. (year 2 reading books TXT) 📖

to go for containment since we couldn’t extinguish the blaze. I went back in and searched for that guy on nothing but a hunch. No one indicated there was anybody in the building still, and if there were, it was likely they were already dead from the smoke. I took a hell of a chance, and I’m not sorry I did it, but I’m suspended for a couple days and got a scolding that’d make your ears bleed. Not even my mama can make a man feel worse than the chief can.”

“That is bullshit!” I burst out. “That man would be dead without you. If you’d listened to orders, and he died, how would you all feel? How would his family feel knowing that nobody went in after him and he was gone? I thought your job was to put out fires and save people from them, not to kiss the Overton chief’s ass when he was being a lazy bastard!”

“Okay, I take it back. The chief has nothing on you when it comes to a blistering set down. Damn, girl,” he chuckled ruefully. “I’m glad you’re on my side.”

“You bet I’m on your side. I don’t care if it says in the rule book somewhere that you’re supposed to obey without question. You’re not a robot, and your instincts are good. You were right to go in that building even though it scared the hell out of me. You saved that man’s life, and you were willing to sacrifice your own on the chance that there was a person dying in there who needed your help—” I swiped tears off my face, angry ones. “Damon, anybody who says you should’ve done different is a goddamn coward more concerned with how it looks on paper than what it’s like to live with the choices we make. I’m calling the Overton chief this minute. I want an apology, and I want it now!”

He caught my wrist, “I believe you’d call him.”

He pulled me across his knees and hugged me. “You are such a spitfire when it comes to the people you’re loyal to. It’s one of my favorite things about you, Trix. But you can’t yell at the Overton chief and my boss and make them apologize. They go by the rules, and I didn’t. I knew better. I made the choice, I don’t regret it, and I’ll take the consequences. They’re not gonna fire me, they just don’t want to set an example of firefighters ignoring orders and trying to be a cowboy and getting their asses killed because they’d see me get away with it. He’s making an example of me. I don’t even think he disagrees with what I did. I understand why he’s doing it. It just aggravates me. That’s all. And here you are, ready to poke the devil himself in the eye for me. Goddamn, Trix.”

Damon leaned back, cradled me against his chest and kissed the top of my head. “Thank you,” he said. “It means everything to me that you’d defend me like that. You waited up for me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” I said, leaning back from him a little and looking in his eyes. He brushed a lock of hair back behind my ear, gave me the most tender smile.

“I’m glad you did. Did Rachel bring y’all some supper?”

“Yeah, she did, thank you. It was great. Above and beyond the call of duty, really,” I said bashfully, sliding off his lap to sit beside him.

“I wish I could’ve been there, but they needed me for a double shift today.”

“So the same guy who bitched you out made you work a double? He’s got some nerve,” I said.

“Can I kiss you?” he said suddenly. I looked away, and I nodded.

He pinched my chin between his thumb and forefinger, made me look at him.

“Is that a yes?” he asked mischievously.

“Yeah,” I said, knowing I blushed bright pink.

Damon cupped my face in his hands and kissed me, softly at first, his lips nipping at mine, clinging and tugging before he worked my mouth open and slid his tongue inside. I held his wrists, anchoring him to me, licking his tongue as he worked it in my mouth, drawing curls of pleasure all over my body with just the stroke of his tongue between my lips. My body seemed to go liquid, to melt and flow, loose and canting toward him. A hum of sensation started between my legs, so that every time the tip of his tongue teased the roof of my mouth or mated with my own, a shiver of pleasure shot down to my clit.

We sat there forever, kissing back and forth, and when he reached into my hair, tugged out my ponytail holder and combed his fingers through my damp tresses, I felt like I’d been stripped bare. It felt wanton and so good, so pleasurable. I pressed my body to his, the satiny pajamas catching and clinging on his shirt, my nipples sensitive to the friction. I rose up on my knees, his hands sliding down the curve of my ass and then up under my pajama top, rough calloused hands abrading the bare, warm skin of my back. I know I moaned at his touch, skin on skin. I swung one knee over his legs and settled back on his lap. Damon pulled me against his chest roughly, hands still on my bare back. He crushed me in his arms.

“I was just going to kiss you, I swear to God,” he said raggedly. “I got carried away. I’m sorry.”

He released me, and I sat back, self-conscious. Straddling him. I was awkward and embarrassed. This was so bad. I nearly swallowed my own tongue as I climbed off him quickly. He dropped his head into his hands, elbows on his knees. His posture was completely shutting me out, caging himself in. I laid one palm on his back tentatively.

“You don’t need to apologize to me. You had a bad day. I sort of