Naked Pursuit. Jill Monroe

to their advantage. Some women find firemen kind of hot.”

      “The only woman I want to find it hot is you.”

      “How often do you carry people fireman-style?” she asked, her fingers now following the tight pec muscles of his chest. He had to be strong to battle his way through walls and burning debris to save people who were frightened and suffering from smoke inhalation.

      “It’s part of the training. Care for a demonstration?” he asked, his tone teasing.

      “Absolutely.”

      “There’s a price,” he warned, and he began to nuzzle the back of her neck.

      “And your terms are?” Whatever it was, she doubted it would be too tough a debt to pay.

      “What does your note card say about me?” he asked as he licked the column of her neck.

      “Mmmmm.” Her knees trembled and she leaned against the tower of his body.

      “Stella,” he prompted.

      Wow. Was he actually apprehensive about what she’d told her future self about him? She planned to keep her ideas of his orgasm-inducing abilities to herself. “It’s no big deal what I wrote. We’re not really going to forget tonight, and writing them was just a waste of time. What did you write about me?” she challenged. No way would he show it to her.

      But Owen dug the note card from his back pocket and handed it to her.

      Whatever you do, don’t let Stella go without giving it a shot.

      Her mouth dried. There were a lot of sexy things about Owen—the rich timbre of his voice, the muscled strength of his arms, his tight ass—but that note, his words...that was the most erotic thing she’d discovered about him so far.

      She swallowed and turned to face him. “Well, that note’s not a waste of time.”

      “And?”

      She shook her head. “Still not going to see my card.”

      He expression turned regretful. “And I so wanted to demonstrate my ability to hoist you over my shoulder.”

      He stuck by his word and didn’t give in easily. She liked that about him. She liked everything about him.

      “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

      Owen’s eyes widened and he swallowed. “Uh...”

      Stella choked back a laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not about to profess something undying here. I’m not even sure I believe in instalove, but I do understand instalust, and man, oh, man, do I have that.”

      Before she could fumble out another word, she was in his arms. Enveloped in lean male muscle and woodsy cologne and an ocean of want and need. Stella met his lips, her mouth opening for a kiss so hot and amazing her entire body yielded to desire.

      He hooked his arm behind her knees and then swooped her into his arms. “I thought you weren’t going to carry me?” she teased, then sucked his earlobe into her mouth.

      “This isn’t exactly a regulation procedure,” he told her.

      He placed her on the soft comforter of the luxurious king-size bed and stretched out beside her. Then his mouth was on hers. Their previous kisses had been explorations, the teasing and tentative first kisses of new attraction. But now, Owen kissed her with hunger and passion and deep, deep need.

      She rolled to her back and he settled between the V of her legs. She felt the hardness of his cock through her leggings and his jeans. In moments, he’d released the top buttons that hadn’t flown off her shirt when she’d ordered him to rip it apart. He shoved her bra out of his way and she moaned when his hands touched skin.

      “I can’t wait to taste you. Taste all of you,” he groaned into the side of her neck.

      Stella tried to sear that sexy, guttural sound into her memory so it could never escape. But that tiny, troubling doubt poked at her again. “It would be awful to not remember this.”

      “We have the notes,” he reminded her, and his lips lowered to her nipple, drawing it into the warmth of his mouth and making her ache.

      But she could potentially wake up next to a naked man with no idea who he was or how she got there. Disconcerting didn’t even describe that idea.

      Stella squeezed her eyes shut. Ugh, all she wanted to do was enjoy this moment. To hold something so amazing and sensual in the vault of her mind so she could dust off the memory and relive it when she was deep into a shift and needed something to remind her that she was a living, breathing woman.

      He circled her nipple with his tongue. This. Why couldn’t she just simply enjoy this? But uncertainty still prodded her. “No, I know me. I’d yell first and ask questions later. I’d grab my clothes and race from this hotel and try never to think about it again. Or what if you wake up first and decide to get the hell out? Waking up alone with no memory might actually be worse.”

      “I wouldn’t run,” he assured her, then drew the tip of her nipple into his mouth again.

      “Mmmmm.” What was she protesting about? Oh, yeah. “Sure, you say that now.”

      He lifted his head and pinned her with his gaze. “If it makes you feel any better, I do have handcuffs in my duffel bag. We’d have to talk to each other. At least until I got them off.”

      “Why would that make me feel better?”

      “You’re worried I’ll be gone in the morning. I can’t leave if I’m handcuffed to you.”

      A rush of satisfaction made her smile. “So you want to see me in the morning? Not that I’m judging you for hooking up or anything.” Could she stop herself from rambling? “I mean, clearly I’ve hooked up with you. It’s just that I’d like to think that it’s more.” Nope, she couldn’t stop the rambling. “Believe me, I understand. I’ve taken enough biology classes to understand the imperative to—”

      The stubble on his cheek tickled her breasts as he skimmed up her body until they were nose to nose. His hazel eyes were dark once more. And serious. “Stella, I want to wake up in the morning with you. Order room service and have breakfast, then take you back to bed and stay here with you until we have to eat again.”

      “You have a way of convincing a girl. So why do you have handcuffs in your bag? Is that part of your normal, um, repertoire? Not that I’m against them or anything, but I just need to rearrange my thinking a little bit. You know...in case.”

      “It goes with being a firefighter. And did you just say ‘in case’?”

      “I’m still a little confused. Are cuffs part of the job? I don’t really remember that on the tour of the fire station I took in the third grade.”

      He rolled off her body and began to trace light patterns on her skin with his index finger. “Sometimes couples need help getting out of their restraints, so they call 911. Firefighters usually take those emergencies.”

      “And this happens a lot?”

      He shrugged. “Well, a lot more since that book came out. After your first restraint release, the other guys sort of gift you with a pair.”

      “Like a ceremony?”

      “More like, uh, friendly hazing.”

      She held out her right hand. “Okay, cuff me.”

      His finger stilled. “That’s the sexiest damn thing you’ve said. And you’ve said some damn sexy things.”

      “Ha-ha. You’re getting cuffed, too, buddy.”

      He scooted off the bed and then lifted her until he’d flung her over his shoulder. He carried her back into the sitting room.

      “I thought you weren’t going to demonstrate the fireman hold until I showed you my note.”