Misa Romero pulled into her driveway and automatically let her gaze shift to the house next door. Six months ago, Sam Braddock had moved in, and between mentally drooling over him and climaxing in her erotic dreams about him, she could hardly get him out of her mind. Who wouldn’t want to do everything with a six-foot-four blond hunk with sculpted muscles that didn’t come from any gym, and a smile that made her panties wet? He was the stuff any woman’s dreams were made of. The few times she’d spoken to him, at the mailbox or when they both happened to arrive home at the same time, she’d actually had trouble forming words. All she could think about was how big his cock might be and how it would feel inside her.

Even more than that, he might as well have the words “cocky alpha” tattooed on his forehead. The aura of command and self-confidence surrounded him like a cloud. She shivered every time she thought of him giving her orders in bed in that low, sexy voice.

Ohmigod!

Just the day before yesterday they’d met in the driveway and her eyes had been drawn to the bulge in his jeans as if pulled by a thread. It took her a long moment before she realized he was actually saying something.

“Misa?” Fingers snapped in front of her face. “Hey. You in there? You okay?”

“Huh? What?” She shook her head, heat creeping up her cheeks. Forcibly she lifted her gaze to his face.

“Bad day?” he chuckled. “I asked you if one of these nights you wanted to grab a beer with me.”

“A beer?” God, didn’t she just sound like a lobotomized idiot.

“Or any other kind of drink. Whatever you like.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans, further straining the material and accentuating that yummy bulge even more. Don’t look, don’t look.

“I mean,” he went on, “we’ve lived next door to each other for a while and don’t say much more than hi or goodbye. I thought maybe we should be a little more, you know, neighborly.”

His voice had that I’m going to do naughty things with you quality.

Oh hell yes, she wanted to get neighborly with him. Intimately so.

“Um, sure. That would be great.” She dragged her gaze back to his face again. “Just let me know when.”

He studied her for a minute. “Are you sure you’re okay? You seem a little, oh, I don’t know, disturbed about something.”

Misa had pulled in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Just a little distracted is all. Sure. That sounds great.”

“Maybe this weekend? I’ll have my next forty-eight hours off then.”

She nodded, her tongue stuck to the roof of her mouth. She was actually going to spend some private time with this sex god.

Holy shit!

“I’ll call you Saturday morning,” he added, then looked at his watch. “Gotta run. See you this weekend.”

That was two days ago. Since then she’d barely been able to think of anything else. Last night she’d had such an erotic dream about Sam that she’d woken up sweaty and panting with three of her fingers shoved into her pussy and the other hand clamped around a breast. She’d needed a long shower, much of it cold, to pull herself together. She’d actually been so unfocussed at work today people asked her if she had a problem.

Yes. A problem. I want to have hot, sweaty, off-the-wall sex with my neighbor, king of the alphas.

She had heard stories about him as she covered the news beat. Reporters she worked with talked about his heroics in firefighting as well as his community service. About his natural take-charge attitude and how he commanded respect from everyone. In a town the size of Benton information like that spread easily and quickly. As one of only two photographers at the newspaper, she kept hoping she’d be assigned to a story involving him and today it had finally happened. She had just returned to the newspaper when her editor grabbed her.

“Are you good to go on an assignment?” he barked. “I can’t send you out on something if you’re gonna fuck it up.” The man wasn’t noted for either his tact or his manners.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, dragging in the frayed edges of her mind. “What have you got?”

“Three alarm fire at an apartment house,” he told her. “I hear it’s bad. Scully’s got it. I got him on his cell. Get going and meet him there. And don’t skimp on the shots.”

She’d had to park two blocks away because the police department had all the streets blocked. Not a problem. She’d long ago taken to wearing comfortable shoes on the job. Carrying her camera bag she jogged to the scene of the fire and her editor had been right. Bad barely began to describe it.

Flames engulfed the entire building. Residents huddled in everything from nightclothes to jeans, women crying, mothers hugging their children. A woman was sobbing hysterically in the arms of a neighbor, screaming something. The neighbor was doing her best to console her, but Misa saw the look of despair on her face. The firemen were doing their best to contain the blaze, but their hoses didn’t seem to be making much headway.

“Where’s Sam?” she heard a man shout.

Probably his captain.

“Still inside,” someone yelled back.

Misa’s insides clutched. Sam, her Sam, was still in that building? How on earth would he ever get out alive?

“Get him out now,” the man ordered. “Right now. The entire building’s about to collapse.”

She saw a man in turnout gear hold a walkie-talkie to his mouth, obviously trying to contact Sam.

“Get moving,” he shouted again into the instrument. “Captain says get the hell out this minute.”

Apparently Sam either wasn’t listening or was ignoring him because the man turned to his captain and shook his head. Misa could just visualize Sam, doing his job with that supreme confidence he wore like a second skin. Not taking chances but knowing how far he could push himself.

Misa inched as close as she could to the scene, snapping pictures one after the other. Then a roar went up from the crowd. People pointed and she looked up. A fireman in full turnout gear had made it out of a third floor window and onto the extension ladder. One arm cradled a baby securely over his shoulder.

The hysterical woman turned to look at the fireman and ran toward the ladder. It seemed to Misa it took forever for him to reach the bottom. She snapped shot after shot of him with the baby, handing the baby to the mother, the mother reaching up to hug him, the other men congratulating him.

The crowd cheered wildly as he handed the baby to the hysterical mother. When he took off his helmet to swipe at his smoke-blackened face she realized it was Sam, that he’d made it out safely, and something inside her exploded. Talk about a hero!

Misa thought about adding her voice to the others but then his captain pulled him away. Besides, she needed to get back to the newspaper and upload the shots onto her computer.

Finishing up took her longer than she expected. Her editor loved the pictures, especially the one of Sam bringing the little boy out of the fire so he had bumped it to the front page of the local news section. He called her into his office, the photos she’d taken up on his computer screen.

“How often do we get a hero like this?” He pointed to the shot of Sam bringing out the little boy. “Did you get his name? Work with Scully. Pick out the best shots. Help him dig in the files. See what you can find out about him. Let’s play it up big.”

At last her editor was satisfied and the story was done. Now, finally, she was home. If she had sense she’d just go right into her house, take a shower and—and what? Sit and stare at Sam’s house? Was he even home yet?

Saturday, he’d told her. I’ll call you Saturday morning.

But she’d seen Sam at his finest today and she wanted him even more than before, if that was possible. Wanted to see him. Hug him for his bravery. Tear off his clothes.

Oversexed much?

If you’re going to make a fool of yourself go ahead and get it over with.

She actually got as far as pulling into the garage and taking her purse and camera case into the house. Then, as if her feet had a mind of their own, they drew her into the next driveway where she stood on tiptoe to peer into the narrow garage window. She took it as an omen that his car was there, sucked up her courage, and jogged up to his front door. Hesitating only a moment she pressed the doorbell. When she heard nothing she rang again, this time leaning on the bell.

Yeah, make a pest of yourself.

She was about to turn back to her own place when she heard him shouting.

“Coming, coming, coming!”

The door was yanked open and Misa nearly swallowed her tongue. Sam Braddock stood there in all his overwhelmingly masculine glory clad only in a towel knotted at his hip. The muscular expanse of chest was dusted with curls the same shade of dark brown as the hair on his head and the fine sprinkling on his arms and legs. The flat dark nipples on his chest seemed to be staring directly at her so she quickly lowered her eyes.

Big mistake!

A semi-bulge poked at the towel from between his legs. The same bulge that had her so tongue-tied the day before.

Tongue. On his bulge. His cock. Don’t go there.

Holy shit!

The words “cockiest male” blasted into her brain, the double meaning clear to her.

“Oh, Misa. Hi.” He raked his fingers through his hair still damp from a shower then gestured at the towel. “Sorry, but I was just getting cleaned up.” Except he didn’t sound sorry at all. His little smile was proof of that.

“Um, I, um, that is, I wanted to tell you I saw you today.” Stupid, stupid, stupid!

He frowned. “You did? At the fire? What were you doing there?”

“I, um…”

Well, Misa, try to talk like an adult.

“I’m sorry. This is a bad time. I should just go home and wait until you call Saturday.”

She turned to go but he reached out and closed his fingers over her arm. Pinpoints of heat sizzled through her at his touch.

“Wait.” He exhaled slowly. “How did you happen to see me today?”

She blew out a breath. “I saw you today. At the fire. I was taking pictures for the newspaper.” She swallowed. “I just wanted to tell you how brave I thought you were and what a great job you did saving that baby.”

His grip on her relaxed but his fingers still rested on her arm.

“You don’t have to thank me. Seeing the look on the mother’s face was thanks enough.” He tugged on her arm. “Come on in.” He looked down at his towel and grinned. “Let me put on some real clothes. It will only take me a second. Come on.”

She let him lead her into his house, taking in the scene as they walked through. The place was a small bungalow, just like hers, only it was obvious he’d done some work here. It made her realize just how little she’d done to give her own place personality.

The carpeting had been replaced by polished hardwood floors and oversized comfortable furniture filled the space. As in her house, there was a small fireplace framed in by the same hardwood and photos ranged along the mantle.

“Here.” He motioned to the couch. “Have a seat. Please. I’ll be right back.”

Misa sat down and Sam turned to walk away. As he did, the knot on his towel came loose and the wrap fell to the floor. Holy crap! His ass was tight and muscular as were his thighs, and broad shoulders swept down to a lean waist. She wanted to lick him all over. Very slowly. Everywhere.

“Oops!” But he didn’t sound the least bit contrite.

He bent down to pick up the towel, giving her an exquisite view of his balls. When he turned he held the cloth loosely around himself, making no effort to retie it. And he showed no sign of embarrassment. Rather, his coffee brown eyes were staring at her as if they wanted to devour her one inch at a time. The towel drooped to the side and her eyes widened at the sight of the most magnificent cock she ever remembered seeing. Just as she’d imagined it when her gaze had been fixated on his jeans the other day—thick and hard and long, it stood proudly jutting out from his body.

“Should I say oops again?” he asked, grinning.

She shook her head, her eyes still fastened on his shaft. “Should I be embarrassed?”

“Only if you aren’t interested in giving me a real reward.” He walked over to where she sat. “I’ve had my eye on you ever since I moved in, wanting to introduce myself. But the timing never seemed to be right. We always seemed to be going in opposite directions.” His voice turned husky. “Until the other day. I think the time is right now, don’t you?”

She nodded, speech escaping her.

Sam took her hands and lifted her from the couch. His arms wrapped around her and he lowered his mouth to hers, a gentle kiss at first, little more than a rubbing of lips. But then his tongue traced the seam of her mouth and without even thinking she opened for him. His tongue swept in, a flame burning her every place it touched. She let her own tongue dance with his and when he sucked it deep into his mouth she melted against him.

One large hand slid down her back to cup her ass and pull her in tight against him. When he did his cock pressed against her so she felt every inch of its hard length. Long fingers squeezed her ass, massaging it while he continued to plunder her mouth.

They broke the kiss only when they were starving for air. Sam looked down at her, the golden glints in his eyes reminding her of dancing fire.

“Last chance to change your mind,” he told her.

She just shook her head and closed her hand around his rigid penis.

“Then let’s get you out of these clothes.” His voice had gone husky. “I think one of us is overdressed.”