Chapter 8
Matt opened the passenger side door of his pickup truck, and Lindsay climbed in. As she turned to sit, the hem of her sarong hiked up, revealing a long expanse of silky, smooth leg. Matt’s blood sizzled, and he felt like he was back in the Jacuzzi surrounded by hot, bubbling water.
They hadn’t talked much on the way from the pool to the parking lot. There was no need. They communicated in ways other than speech; a brush of their fingers, a lifting of eyebrows, private smiles ripe with promise.
Once behind the steering wheel, Matt started the engine and drove from the parking lot onto the street. Traffic was congested, typical for downtown Glendale during early evening. He tried to remain calm. Lindsay didn’t live far. He could afford to wait.
Or maybe not.
Frustrated by yet another red light, he punched the console beside him, sending an empty Styrofoam cup cartwheeling to the floor.
“You okay?” Lindsay asked as he retrieved the cup.
“If you hear a strange noise, don’t worry. That’s just me. Hyperventilating. ”
She reached across the console, and said, “Relax,” while walking her fingers up his arm.
Yeah, right. Every synapse in his brain had just simultaneously fired. “The only way I’ll relax is if you ride in the truck bed.”
Her warm, sensual laughter rolled over him. Matt liked hearing it. She didn’t laugh enough, taking life far too seriously.
“You’d better buckle your seatbelt,” he said when the alarm dinged.
Reluctantly, she lowered her hand, twisted in the other direction and grabbed the buckle. In the meantime, the traffic light turned green. Matt pressed the gas pedal and they took off, only to come to a stop at the next intersection. He groaned in frustration.
“Don’t rush.” Her hand returned to his arm, only to climb to the back of his neck where her fingers toyed with the strands of his hair. “We’ll be there in five minutes.”
A honking horn from behind them jarred him from his dazed state.
“Slow down,” she cautioned when he started exceeding the speed limit.
Easy for her to say. His heart was racing a hundred miles an hour. When she flicked his ear with her fingernail, his penis swelled in response.
“Jeeze, Lindsay.” Sucking in a sharp breath, he gripped the steering wheel so hard his hands cramped. This was the longest five minutes of his life.
By some sort of miracle, he navigated traffic, managing to keep the truck between the white lines. Barely. He’d never been so happy as when he pulled into her driveway.
Or so turned on.
He fumbled with the seatbelt buckle, finally managing to unfasten it. The second he was free, he reached across the console, pulled Lindsay toward him, and crushed her mouth in a fierce kiss that left them both gasping for air when it was over.
“Take me inside,” she insisted, her voice unsteady.
Direct, succinct, and brash. Exactly the qualities he liked in a woman.
“Yes, ma’am.” He wrenched open his door. If he didn’t get her into bed within the next minute, he’d take her right there on the truck seat, console be dammed.
They made it as far as the living room.
Mouths meshed and limbs entwined, they stumbled inside the front door and fell onto the nearest piece of furniture, which happened to be an overstuffed chair. They landed in a heap with Matt on top and Lindsay trapped beneath him.
“My turn,” he growled and slid down her body to the floor, kneeling in front of her.
Breathing heavily, more from excitement than exertion, Lindsay watched Matt as he pushed her sarong up. She facilitated the process by elevating her hips. When she reached to remove her bikini bottom, he took over, nudging her hands aside.
“Let me.”
A single ray of soft light spilled in from the kitchen, providing enough illumination for Lindsay to see his face. His brows were drawn together in determination, his eyes dark and smoky with desire. Slowly, as if revealing a valuable treasure, he removed her bikini bottom. Pitching the flimsy garment over his shoulder, he drew her legs apart and went utterly still, save for the rapid rise and fall of his chest. After a moment, he lifted his gaze to hers.
“You’re so beautiful.”
Leaning forward, he kissed her belly, the sensitive spot where her leg joined her hip, the inside of her thighs, and lastly, the very center of her sex.
Lindsay’s bones turned to liquid.
She’d imagined but never engaged in foreplay of this kind. Fantasy, she conceded, didn’t compare to reality. The tension inside her built. She felt herself being lifted and pulled, as if riding in the front car of a roller coaster while it climbed the first steep hill. And like those thrill-seekers, she faced the fast approaching plummet on the opposite side with a mixture of nervousness and wild excitement.
Her climax came swifter than she’d anticipated and with more force. Her liquid bones suddenly solidified, and she arched off the chair, calling Matt’s name.
When her spasms finally ceased and the quaking in her legs subsided, he sat back on his calves. She tried to sit up, but her arms were as weak as two sticks of straw. “Quit your smiling, will you?” she admonished him jokingly.
“Here.” He stood and hauled her upright with an urgency contradicting his earlier patience. “I’ll help you.”
The next instant, she was in his arms, her feet dangling.
Sensing what he wanted, she locked her legs around his waist. He hoisted her higher and positioned her over his erection, found his mark, and drove home. Lindsay gasped as he filled her, clutched his neck as he moved in and out.
A missing piece of her heart fell into place, making her whole. “I love you.”
Matt stopped cold. Underneath her hands, his muscles contracted into rigid bands of steel.
Oh, damn. She hadn’t intended to tell him. The words spilled out in a flood of emotion.
A tiny part of her died when he pulled out and set her down. Why had she told him she loved him? Mahina was wrong. Matt didn’t love her back, and Lindsay’s impulsive declaration scared him. Now he’d leave. She’d spend the night and the next day in misery and seeing him at work would be unbearable.
Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“I’m sorry,” she said, pressing her knuckles into her forehead. “That was really—”
“I love you, too,” he said as if he half-believed it. Then again, more emphatically, “I do. I love you.”
“Really?” For once in her life, the tomboy in Lindsay gave willing way to clichéd feminine reaction. With a cry of delight, she threw herself at him.
“Hey. Take it easy.” He caught her, stumbling backwards. “Where’s your bedroom?”
“This way,” she answered, disengaging herself. Suddenly, she drew up. “Wait a minute. If you love me, then why did you...you know...stop?”
“Condoms.”
“What?”
“We need condoms,” he said, dragging her with him to the bedroom. “Lots of them.”
~~*~~
AN HOUR LATER, they’d used two. Matt lay on his back in Lindsay’s bed, hands clasped behind his head and eyelids drooping. After that last round of lovemaking, he’d require twelve consecutive hours of rest to regain his strength. The adjoining door opened, and Lindsay emerged, the light from the bathroom bathing her in a golden glow. He took one look at her and sat bolt upright in bed, realizing he’d overestimated his recuperative abilities by eleven hours and fifty-nine minutes.
She walked slowly toward him, wearing a shy smile and a wispy black nightgown that revealed as much cleavage as it did leg.
Matt stared, too dazzled to speak.
“What do you think?” she asked, her cheeks tinged pink with shyness, or possibly embarrassment.
Roused from his stupor, he threw back the sheet and indicated for her to join him in bed. “No matter what I say, how much I beg, don’t tell me where or when you bought that.”
“Why?” As she moved, the nightgown swirled and shifted like a cloud tossed by the wind.
“Because I’ll go crazy with jealousy,” he answered, remembering the provocative outfit she’d worn the night she snuck in his house to seduce Joey. Thank God she’d found him instead of his roommate.
“A little jealousy isn’t so bad.” She rested one knee on the bed. The mattress dipped slightly beneath her weight. “It keeps you from losing interest.” Swinging her other leg over him, she straddled his thighs. The nightgown drifted down around her in airy folds.
“Fat chance of that happening.” He encircled her waist with his hands, his thumbs kneading the soft flesh of her belly through the filmy material. She sighed contentedly, her hips undulating in rhythm to his strokes.
It was hard for Matt to believe that just yesterday, this beautiful, sensual woman had been covered in grime, toting half her body weight in equipment, and fighting a fire with every ounce of courage she possessed.
The endless paradox of her personality fascinated him, and he couldn’t imagine ever tiring of her as she’d suggested.
He leaned up and placed a kiss at the base of her neck, directly above her breastbone. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night.”
“At your place?”
“What? No way. You’ve eaten my cooking at the station and we both know how awful that tastes.”
Lindsay laughed when Matt grabbed his throat and made a face like he was choking.
“It’s not that bad,” she said.
He lay back and attempted to pull her with him. “There’s a new Cajun restaurant I’ve been wanting to try. The Black Kettle.” Ever heard of it?”
She resisted the pull of his arms, the lively twinkle in her eyes dimming. “A date?”
“You know. That social activity couples engage in. They have dinner together. See a movie. Go to car shows.”
“Car shows?” She gave him a sardonic look.
“What? You don’t like car shows? This complicates things considerably.”
“That’s just it, Matt. Dating does complicate things.”
“I disagree.” He took her hands in his and brought them to his lips, kissing the knuckles. “I think it simplifies things.”
“Work,” she withdrew her hands, “is going to be awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be. There are no rules stating we can’t date. And trust me, we will date. Even if you don’t like car shows.”
She bent forward and tenderly kissed his lips. “I don’t care where we go as long as I’m with you.”
“Am I wrong or do I hear a ‘but’ on the end of that sentence?”
“But I think we should refrain from going public just yet.” She smiled, her eyes pleading with him to understand. “For now anyway.”
“Someone’s bound to figure it out eventually.”
“Not if we’re careful.”
Matt had a sudden flash of insight. “Is it Dennis?” Her refusal to meet his gaze confirmed he’d hit the nail on the head. “We can handle him. Don’t let that worry you.”
She slid off him, reclining on the bed beside him. “It’s not just Dennis. It’s the entire department. Fire Administration is like a small town. Rumors spread quickly and half of them are blown out of proportion. I have enough trouble fitting in without being fodder for the gossip mill.”
He put an arm around her, using physical closeness to counteract the emotional barrier she was erecting. “We have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I said that wrong. I didn’t mean to imply we do. It’s just that—” She started to speak again, then stopped and bit her lower lip.
“Go on.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze.
She took a deep breath, held it, then said, “I’m sick and tired of all the jokes made at my expense.”
“Is it really that bad?”
“The guys at work like you, Matt. You’re one of them, their pal, their buddy.” She turned over and stared at the ceiling. “I’m not.” Once started, she couldn’t seem to stop. “You can’t imagine what it’s like to be picked on, day in and day out. To spend each minute of each shift under a microscope, your every move being watched and evaluated. You pray you won’t screw up. And if you do, the news, grossly exaggerated, of course, will be telegraphed to everyone in the department within an hour.”
“I didn’t realize.” He had, but not the extent of her hurt and frustration.
“Tell me honestly. How many people at work congratulated you on your test scores?”
Matt thought momentarily and shrugged. “A couple dozen or so. Maybe more.”
“Guess how many people congratulated me?”
“The same?”
“Two. Emilio and Rebecca,” she said, speaking of the woman captain who shared command of the station with Emilio.
It was with more than a little shame Matt counted himself among those failing to give Lindsay her due. “I’m sorry.”
“As of two days ago, you outrank me. If rumors spread that we’re dating...” She firmed her mouth into a thin line. “I refuse to have it said I used sex to advance my position.”
“That won’t happen!” The idea that someone might accuse Lindsay of such a thing infuriated him.
She turned sideways and stroked his jaw, her eyes sad. “You can’t stop it. People will say and think what they want.”
He hated to admit it but she had a point. And while he didn’t entirely agree with her, he’d respect her wishes. Their being together was what mattered the most. One or the other of them would likely be transferred soon. True, they’d be assigned to different stations. But that one fact alone might make their personal relationship more readily tolerated by their coworkers. Especially after Lindsay’s promotion came through. For her sake, he’d remain silent. He had the feeling she was worth it.
“All right,” he said. “We’ll do this your way.”
Relief shone on her face.
“But I won’t lie to you. I’m a little disappointed.” He hauled her on top of him, cupping her buttocks with both hands. “You’re ruining my plans.”
She dropped playful kisses on his chin and neck. “What plans are those?”
“Bragging rights. A guy likes to show off when he’s going out with the hottest chick in the department.”
“Me? Hot?” She squinted at him. “I think you need your eyesight tested.”
In one easy move, he flipped her over and pinned her under him. Her nightgown bunched up around her waist. Only a thin, transparent panty covered her. Hardly enough to deter him. “When will you get it through that thick head of yours? You’re an incredibly sexy woman, Lindsay.” He positioned himself between her legs. She responded by thrusting up to meet him. “My woman.”
“I like the sound of that.”
George Strait singing, “They call me the fireman,” from the vicinity of the floor interrupted them. His phone. “I don’t like the sound of that.” He rolled off her and sat up.
Lindsay reached for the lamp on the nightstand and flicked the switch on. Matt bent over and rummaged through the array of clothes strewn haphazardly on the floor. Finally locating his tee-shirt, he removed his cell phone from the front pocket. It chirped again. He checked the screen and recognized his father’s number. Immediately, his gut twisted in on itself.
“Everything okay?” She snuggled against him and rubbed his shoulder.
“Yeah.”
George continued to sing. Matt was half tempted to let the call go through to his voice mail. Not answering, however, would only postpone the inevitable. “I should probably take this.” He rallied his nerve and swiped the display. “Hi, Dad.”
“It’s about time.”
“I’m fine, thanks. How are you?”
“Don’t be smart with me. Where are you?”
“I’m in bed.” Matt didn’t elaborate whose bed, or what they were doing.
“At this hour? It’s only nine thirty. Are you sick?” Everett Callahan didn’t keep regular office hours like most people. He put in twelve to fourteen hour workdays, six days a week like clockwork. On Sundays, he took care of whatever items Matt’s mother had on her “honey-do” list. Holidays and vacations were for the lazy and unambitious, hobbies an unnecessary distraction. He’d been on a business trip the day Matt was born and missed his next ten birthdays for one work related reason or another.
No wonder the man suffered chronic chest pains. Not from stress, but because his heart had hardened years ago into a cold lump of stone.
“I was sleeping,” Matt answered his father’s question. “I just came off a twenty-four hour shift.”
“Which brings me to the reason I called.”
“My schedule?”
“Your work.”
Matt groaned. The kinks in his gut tightened. He should never have phoned his mother that morning and told her about his test scores. But she’d been so tickled with the news, and he wanted at least one of his parents to be proud of him.
“I hear you’ve been promoted.”
“It’s not official yet.” Matt didn’t realize he was strumming his fingers on his thigh until Lindsay wrapped her hand around his.
“Son, when will you give up this foolishness and get a real job?”
Matt had heard this particular lecture so often, he could recite it along with his father word for word. He gave his standard reply. “I like being a firefighter.”
“You’re smart, and you’re good with people. It’s a shame you’re not living up to your full potential.”
“You mean it’s a shame I’m not following in your footsteps by going into sales.”
“Look how well your sister’s doing. She just bought a new townhouse with her last commission check.”
“Money isn’t everything.” It wasn’t to Matt, but it was to his father.
“What kind of raise comes with your promotion?”
“I don’t know.”
“That small, huh?”
“I didn’t ask because it’s irrelevant.” He hated that his father always put him on the defensive.
“You should find out first before accepting the job. Negotiate a better deal if the money isn’t what you want.”
“The city establishes salaries based on position and length of employment. I can’t negotiate.”
“Then maybe you should consider another line of work. One where your income is a direct reflection of your performance and not some bureaucrat’s notion of a budget.”
“That’s now how the system works.” Why bother? Matt asked himself. But still, he tried. “The city determines—”
“I’ve got to run,” his dad interrupted. “Have another call coming in. Drive down next weekend. We’ll have lunch. I want to talk to you some more about this promotion.”
If Everett Callahan said goodbye, he was cut short by the call disconnecting.
“Goodbye to you, too.” Matt set his own phone on the nightstand, then scrubbed his face with his hands. Resentment, old as his earliest memory, consumed him.
“Your dad must be feeling better.” Lindsay nuzzled his neck. “No more chest pains?”
Her touch acted like a catharsis, soothing his anger. “Apparently not. He’s as ornery as ever.”
Matt lay down on the bed, taking Lindsay with him. This time, she didn’t resist. They cuddled content to simply hold each other.
She skimmed her fingers over his chest. “Don’t let whatever your father said bother you. And it’s none of my business,” she quickly added when he started to explain.
“I wish it were that easy.”
“Anything I can do to help?”
“There is. Tell me why gaining the respect of a father who doesn’t care is so important to me.”
“I will. As soon as I figure it out myself.”
“Your dad is great. Really supportive. I met him at graduation.”
“My stepdad. I haven’t seen my real dad in years. I doubt he knows what I do for a living, much less is impressed by it. But that doesn’t stop me from trying to please him.”
Matt heard the same bitterness in her voice he heard in his own. “I’m sorry, honey. I didn’t know.” He was glad she’d told him about her real dad. It not only explained her drive to succeed, it also strengthened the bond growing between them. “We’re quite a pair.”
“Yes, we are.”
They found each other’s mouths and kissed; sweetly at first, then with increasing passion.
“I love you, Lindsay,” he said, tugging her nightgown over her head. The back of his throat burned, making speech difficult. “I swear, I do.”
“Show me how much,” she answered, taking his hand and placing it on her breast.