Hot in Here: Uncovered / Tailspin / An Honorable Man. Lori Foster

But then, he’d been on a month-long, self-imposed dry spell. Under those circumstances, just about anything could turn him on.

      Maybe on his next day off he’d have to break down and take his chances with a little one-on-one comfort of the female kind.

      Together, he and Clair continued on their way, not jogging now, but not exactly taking their time either. Since Clair stayed silent, Harris had too much time to think. About her boobs.

      He gave her body a surreptitious look without turning his head. The cold had tightened her nipples, and with her clothes wet and clinging, there was no way to miss it. His pulse sped up a bit, doing more to warm him than their jaunt.

      The snug sports bra didn’t allow for much jiggling, but he judged her to be a B cup. Plenty enough there to fill his hands. Well, not his hands, but some other guy’s... No, he didn’t like that thought either. Not that he had any claim on Clair other than friendship. But the idea of her snuggled up and intimate with some faceless, nameless bozo didn’t sit right. Harris shoved the disturbing image away and concentrated on her comment.

      Why did women assume men were only drawn to pinup models? A woman was a woman was a woman. Each different, each sweet and soft in her own way.

      “Hurry up, slowpoke. I swear, my granny could move faster than you.”

      Maybe not so sweet, Harris admitted to himself with a grin. But definitely soft. He fell behind another step and took in the sight of Clair’s full bottom. No lack of curves there. Yep, even egghead jocks were soft when you looked in the right place.

      Clair turned to face him, walking backward. “Want a cup of hot chocolate? I’m going to make me some.”

      Her glasses were beginning to fog over, her ponytail was more out of its band than in, and water dripped from her ears.

      Harris shook his head. “Can’t. I’m on first shift this week. I need to get home, shower, and hit the sack.” As a firefighter, Harris had a rotating schedule. The good part was that every third week he got extra days off, and the third week was rolling around.

      “Okay.” They were only feet away from his apartment building. Clair turned back around to head across the street. “I’ll see you tomorrow then.”

      Harris took swift advantage. The moment she presented him with the opportunity, he landed a stinging swat on her behind. Given that her shorts were wet, it had a little more impact than he’d intended.

      Her hands slapped over her butt in shock. Before her gasp of outrage had a chance to fade away, Harris darted to his side of the street, barely muffling his chuckles. “Good night, Clair!”

      He bounded up the steps to his apartment, but waited at the door, watching as he always did until Clair had time to get inside. She rubbed her bottom as she climbed her own steps, muttering and casting him dirty looks. Moments later, a light came on in her living room, then Clair was at the window, waving to him. Harris waved back.

      At first, Clair had objected to his protectiveness. But he’d worn her down until now she did the routine by rote. While he waited, she went in and checked out her place, then waved to let him know she was safely inside. Alone.

      One of these days she’d have a boyfriend to look after her. But until then, Harris didn’t mind keeping watch. In fact, he insisted on it.

      Within half an hour he was showered and stretched out in bed, his hands folded behind his head. He should have been relaxed, but instead his naked body hummed with tension. He listened to the drubbing of rain on the windows, the continual rumble of thunder, and he watched the strobe effect of the lightning on his ceiling.

      Storms always made him horny.

      Touching women’s butts made him horny.

      Was Clair making him... No. He scoffed at himself, even laughed out loud in the silence of his dark room. That was just nuts. He wouldn’t think about her that way.

      Determined to get to sleep, he closed his eyes, metered his breathing—and saw again that flash peek of Clair’s belly and sports bra. He groaned, and gave up the fight, allowing himself to ease into a very vivid dream where he stripped Clair naked, kissed her from head to toe, and loved every minute of it. The dream was both disturbing in its intensity and comforting in the rightness of it.

      Sometime during the night, the storm knocked out the electricity. His internal clock woke him to a dark house and street, and the continuation of the storm. Without being able to make coffee or catch the morning news, he headed into work early. And good thing, too, because not five minutes after he dashed through the pouring rain into the station, the fire alarm went off. Lightning had struck the back of an abandoned building and someone saw smoke.

      When Harris caught the address of the building, his heart shot into his throat. It was his block—right next door to Clair. Not since his first year as a firefighter had he suffered the debilitating effects of fear, but damn it, he felt them now. Even with the drizzling rain, the high wind could spread a fire quickly. Without electricity, Clair might sleep late, unaware of the danger. Worry plagued Harris all the way to the location.

      But the moment the fire engine blared onto the street, Harris saw the crowd. Umbrellas formed a large canopy around the area, as if everyone had crawled from their beds and braved the weather for a show. Clair still looked sleep-rumpled under her cheery red umbrella, but she was fully dressed and in charge of things. In typical Clair mode, she urged curious onlookers farther away from possible harm. Harris was so relieved to see her he nearly fell off the truck. But knowing she was safe, he put her from his mind to do the job he’d been trained to do.

      The storm was a real bother. Even through his Bunker Gear of fire-retardant jacket and trousers, helmet, and pull-on boots, he got soaked. The fire hadn’t done too much damage yet, mostly to the exterior rear wall where the lightning had hit.

      The abandoned structure had been up for lease for over six weeks and wasn’t in the best of shape anyway. There were already broken windows in back and debris everywhere. In the process of putting out the blaze, a forgotten metal Dumpster in the back alley got knocked over. It was packed full, but luckily, not with the type of trash that got more disgusting with time. Mostly papers, probably from the previous businessman. In less than an hour, they had everything taken care of. The rain had let up and the sun even struggled to shine through the gray clouds.

      Harris pulled off his helmet, wiping soot and rain and sweat off his face. He was contemplating all the mess, both from the spilled trash and the damage of the fire, when Ethan, a fellow firefighter and one of his best friends, let out a whistle. Harris turned, saw Ethan riffling through a shoebox from the Dumpster, and raised a brow. Usually that absorbed expression on Ethan’s face was reserved for his wife, Rosie. Harris went to investigate.

      “Whatcha got?”

      Without looking up, Ethan said, “Pictures of a naked woman.”

      “No shit?” Harris forgot his fatigue for the moment and muscled his way next to Ethan. Yep, sure enough, that was an unclothed female. A very sexy, naked female. “Wow.”

      Harris picked up one photo of her reclining facedown on a twin bed. Her mussed hair was long enough to hide her face, but who cared when she had a beautifully bare backside on display? Harris tried, but he couldn’t look away.

      “Check out this one.” Ethan handed him another.

      The same woman, judging by the shape of her body, was stepping into the tub. Again, she had her face averted as she moved the shower curtain aside, but this shot showed her entire body in profile. Breasts, belly, long sleek thighs. Harris let out a slow breath. “Hello sweetheart.”

      “Wonder if she lives around here,” Ethan commented. “Or maybe she was the last one to lease the building.”

      “The last person here was a guy. I never met him, but I saw him occasionally.” Harris peered toward the shoebox Ethan held. “Any more pictures in there?”

      “One more—of her pulling on her panties.” Ethan laughed. “You