Consumed By You Read online

  Travis wrapped his arms around his sister, giving her a warm hug. The strangest burst of panic skipped through his nervous system for a second. Everyone he knew was marching forward so purposefully—settling down and starting families. “I’m so happy for you,” he said. Even if he was odd man out by personal choice, he was downright thrilled for Megan.

  “Thank you,” she said softly, choking back a sob.

  He pulled back to look her in the eyes. “You’re going to be a great mom.”

  She punched his arm. “You’ll be a great uncle.”

  He turned to Becker, who beamed with pride and happiness. “That’s why I found your sorry ass here when you were supposed to be working.”

  Becker shrugged happily. “Gotta take care of my woman when she’s not feeling well. She’s the mother of my child soon.”

  Travis hugged Megan once more. “I guess this means you’ll be a pregnant bride.”

  When he let go, she laughed lightly. “That’s fine by me. We weren’t trying to prevent it, if you know what I mean.”

  He laughed. “How far along are you? Have you told Mom?”

  “Twelve weeks, and not yet. But I will tomorrow.”

  Travis mimed zipping his lips. He clapped Becker on the back. “Congratulations, man. I’m unbelievably happy for the two of you. You take good care of her, you hear?” he said, wagging his index finger at his sister’s fiancé.

  Becker saluted him. “I always do,” he said, then draped his arm around Megan and dropped a kiss on her forehead. She beamed at him, and in that wink of a second Travis saw so much love, so much joy, and so much certainty between the two of them. They hadn’t even waited to get married; they simply knew they wanted to have a family.

  As he drove to Cara’s, he did his best to push that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest far away. Those kinds of plans might be perfect for his sister and her man, but they had no place in his life. Not when he’d assessed the risks, and determined the best course of action. That route to safety remained the same—steer clear of serious relationships. They were fraught with too much danger.

  He flashed back on a fire he and Becker had fought a few months ago in an old winery, and how the beast of a blaze had tried to eat them alive in a mad dash to scorch everything in its path. Careful and methodical, they’d battled back and took it down, but at any moment things could have gone differently. A fallen beam here, a backdraft there. Take all the precautions in the world, find the hot zones, and you still never knew if your life was about to turn into a blank slate of sadness for years, like his mom’s had when his dad left this earth.

  Travis prided himself on weighing the options and choosing wisely, on knowing when to act and when to refrain. This situation with Cara was no different. He’d keep his cards close to the vest, only playing the ones that were guaranteed to win.

  Like the ace of their chemistry, so to speak.

  That was all she wanted from him anyway. There was no need to even worry about the crazy notions Becker had tried to plant in his head.

  When he arrived at her house, he had the tin of cookies and Henry’s leash in one hand, the vase of flowers in the other, and condoms in his back pocket, a reminder of the type of game he and Cara were playing.

  Focus on the sex, he reminded himself.

  Besides, it was high time for him to take a dose of her medicine. She was a smart woman, and she knew the cure for what ailed her. He suffered from the same affliction, so he’d take the same remedy and fuck her out of his system too. Take her, have her, claim her.

  Then he could finally be free of this hold she had on him. He could stop thinking about her all the damn time, once they finished this brief affair in another week.

  When she opened the door, he knew he’d have no problem with his plan. She wore a white sundress that landed mid-thigh, her hair was swept up in a clip, with loose strands framing her beautiful face, and her legs were bare.

  In seconds they’d be wrapped around him.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice sexy sweet.

  “Hi.”

  Henry chimed in next, barking at Violet, who pawed at the floor, eager to play with a four-legged friend.

  “I’ll let them into the yard and they can chase each other out there,” Cara said, then patted the side of her leg, a signal for the dogs to follow her as she walked to the sliding glass door. His eyes stayed on her the whole time, on the white fabric of her dress, the way it fell loosely on her body, and the tantalizing question of whether she was wearing anything under it.

  He set the tin of cookies and the flowers on the entryway table and shut the door behind him.

  When she returned, he cupped her face in his hands, backed her up against the wall, and kissed her hard and fiercely—so hard all thoughts drained from his head as she speared her hands in his hair, wrapped a leg around his, and kissed him back like she wanted all the same things.

  Chapter Fourteen

  This was the only way to be kissed—pinned to the wall, bodies coiled together, his lips claiming hers. She was at his mercy, and she willingly gave herself to him. He kissed her like she was his oxygen, like the very thought of not kissing her was hell on earth.

  He loosened her hair, tossing the clip on the floor and letting all her black and red strands tumble free. He laced his hands through her hair, curling his fingers around her head.

  Her knees weakened, and her stomach practiced swan dives from epic heights. As his lips devoured hers, the temperature inside her shot to nuclear. She melted everywhere from this kiss. From his hands in her hair, to the insistent press of his mouth, to his hard length against her belly, they connected on a primal level where language was wholly unnecessary. Their bodies spoke, saying how much they needed each other.

  More than could be measured.

  The kiss was delirious; it was white-hot and furious. He kissed her so hard their teeth clicked. They were wild and desperate, crashing into each other in a beautiful collision of lips, tongues, and bodies. She wanted more of this savage kissing, this intense need for another person, so deep, so consuming it could barely be quenched.

  This was a kiss that could only end one way.

  In toe-curling, shout-to-the-heavens sex.

  Oh, how she wanted him. How she wanted him to sink so deep inside her that she saw stars and sang arias.

  She found the will to somehow break the kiss. Placing her hands on his chest, she voiced a pure plea. “Now. I want you now. I can’t wait any more.”

  He let go of her hair and pressed his forehead to hers. “I’m going to fuck you now, Cara. I’m going to fuck you like you wanted that night at the club. Like you wanted in my kitchen. Like you wanted on the hood of your car. Because I wanted you so goddamn much all those times, too. I’ve wanted you every time I’ve been with you. So much it drives me crazy,” he said, his voice hot and rough, his words setting every nerve in her body on fire.

  He trailed his hands down her bare arms, reaching the hem of her skirt. Her breath fled her chest from his touch. “Anything on under this sexy little dress?”

  “Find out,” she said.

  He pushed up the fabric, revealing her bare flesh. His chest rose and fell as he stared at her nudity. “I thought I lost the game.”

  “You did. But I guess you won anyway.”

  “I did. Because these are my favorite panties,” he rasped out, as he drew a finger through her wetness. She trembled in his arms, her body craving more.

  “You like tonight’s lingerie?”

  “I love it,” he said, as if each word was succulent. “God, I’m finally going to have you again.” His inky blue eyes fixed on her, unwavering. His pupils were dilated, giving away his desire for her. Though, everything about him revealed his need. She heard it in his words, and she knew it in his touch, in his gaze, in the intensity that radiated off him. She’d never felt so wanted.

  “Do you have a condom?” she whispered, her throat crackling with dryness.

  He nodded. “Hell yea
h.”

  As he reached into his back pocket, she made fast work of unbuttoning his shirt, thrilling at the feel of his chest against her hands. She could explore that chest forever, map him with her fingertips, study him and never grow tired of his body, or of the way he responded to her touch. Like she was the only woman he’d ever wanted like this.

  “Take me now, please take me now,” she said, fumbling at his jeans, unbuttoning then unzipping. She couldn’t wait any longer. She was ready to rip the condom packet out of his hand because he was taking so long to open it, precise and methodical as he carefully tore the foil.

  Her heart pumped wildly, beating like a drum as she pushed down his jeans and his boxers, thrilling at the sight of his gorgeous cock, ready for business. She wrapped a hand around him and he groaned her name.

  Finally, he freed the condom from the wrapper, and she grabbed it. She rolled the condom on him, loving the way his breath hitched as she touched him. He positioned himself at her entrance, sliding the tip of his dick against her heat, and she gasped. She was electric tonight, poised to spark from a single, sizzling touch. At last, the moment she’d longed for had arrived. He pushed into her, and she was ready to sing hallelujah to the skies.

  Her memory had been playing tricks on her. He wasn’t just the best.

  He was extraordinary. He was out of this world. Nothing had ever felt so damn good. This was the very definition of ecstasy. He sank so deep inside her that she tensed and tightened around him, intensifying the sensations. She laced her fingers through his hair, her hands gripping his skull as he stroked.

  “Is this working?” he said in between pants.

  “Hmm? Yeah. It feels amazing.”

  “That’s not what I mean,” he said harshly.

  “What do you mean?” Her brain was so foggy she couldn’t process anything that didn’t involve satisfying the sweet ache between her legs. He thrust harder, stilling himself inside her, letting her feel him fill her up. Oh, did she feel it. She felt stretched in the best of ways.

  “Is it getting me out of your system?” he asked as he pumped slowly now.

  She shook her head. “No. It only makes me want more of you.”

  “I want more of you, too. I want so much more,” he said, driving into her again, a controlled, measured thrust that made her cry out in pleasure.

  She’d expected hard and fast sex, the same way he’d kissed her. But this was different. He held her hips. He took his time. He fucked her, deliberately slow, maddeningly controlled, letting her experience how good it was to be taken by him. Reminding her, whether he intended to or not, that he could give her everything she ever wanted in bed. He was masterful, rolling his hips, then pulling back, leaving her wanting more. It was like a claiming, as if he were taking her in a way that made it starkly clear she belonged to him.

  She dug her fingernails into his shoulders, trying to draw him closer, even though they were as close as two people could be. She curled a leg around his ass. She wanted to feel him everywhere. Every inch of her skin, every cell, every neuron craved the pleasure.

  “I know you like it wild, Cara. But I bet you like it when I fuck you like I own you,” he said, his voice all pure raw need, his words sending a fresh wave of sparks through her body. “Because that’s how I’m doing it now.”

  “Yes,” she said, her breathing erratic. “I like it all. I like everything with you. You’re driving me crazy.”

  “Good. Because you drive me insane,” he said, and for a second he sounded angry, even mad at himself.

  She opened her mouth to ask why, but as he swiveled his hips and rocked into her, bringing her so damn close, she knew now was not the time for questions.

  “You want to get me out of your system,” he said roughly, as his fingers dug into her hips, leaving marks, she was sure. “But maybe I need you out of mine, too. Sometimes it’ll be fast, sometimes it’ll be hard, sometimes rough, and sometimes it’ll be like this.”

  “I want it every way with you,” she said, but then stopped talking because he buried her in a kiss that scorched her. This man consumed her. He stole every breath from her lungs. He could have anything from her.

  This was an undoing. This was him unraveling her stitch by stitch, unknitting all her control, so she was left only this hot, fevered, hungry thing.

  Needing him.

  He rocked into her like the steady beat of a drum. The persistent climb up the hill. He worked for her pleasure, he took nothing for granted, and he drove her to the very brink.

  “Please, Travis. Harder,” she cried out. “Please fuck me ’til I come.”

  “Nothing less, my sweet, dirty girl. Never anything less.”

  He changed speed. He shifted into high gear, harder, faster, more dangerous. Her back bowed, and her hands clawed at him. He pounded into her, turning the slow, hot, wet slides into the fast and furious friction that her body sought greedily. She was ravenous for him; her heart spun wildly in her chest and her body sang with rapture.

  She cried out his name, like a chant, as she came so hard her vision blurred. She nearly collapsed in his arms from the neon bliss that bathed her brain and washed over every inch of her.

  Then her name echoed, too, in the air, a low, hot growl in her ear, the sound of him wanting this connection, this combustible reaction as much as she did. His hands gripped her as he came inside her on a wild grunt.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Travis groaned happily as he took another forkful of the pasta primavera she’d whipped up, courtesy of Giada from the Food Network. He pointed to the dish and nodded in appreciation. His obvious delight in her cooking pleased her.

  “I’m glad you like it.”

  “This might be the best pasta dish I’ve ever had that doesn’t include meat,” he said.

  Cara laughed. “Thank you for that caveat on your praise.”

  He pretended to peer into the serving bowl on the table on her back porch. “Well, I hunted around and found no chicken.”

  “Now I really can’t wait to feed you my famous risotto with snap peas or the fettuccine with figs and goat cheese,” she joked.

  “Funny. I didn’t hear tri-tip steak in those dishes.”

  “Nor will you.”

  “You used to eat burgers, though? Didn’t you?”

  “I did. But I’m not a huge meat eater now.” She took another bite of the pasta, followed by a sip of her chardonnay to chase it. Tonight was a great evening. Hot sex against the wall, a good meal under the setting sun and a warm breeze, and her dog lying peacefully in the grass several feet away from the table. Add in the fact that Henry was resting quietly, too, rather than begging for scraps, and she was sure this night might enter the record books as the most perfect evening ever for Cara Bailey.

  “Why’s that?”

  She gestured to the two dogs, who’d become buddies. Henry’s back legs were splayed out behind him, giving him a Super Dog look. “I work with animals for a living. I’d rather not rely on them for nutrition, too. Besides, I get everything I need from veggies and noodles and so on.”

  He eyed her up and down, deliberately appraising her. “So that’s where your figure comes from. Body courtesy of carrots and broccoli.”

  “And don’t forget the other benefit—more carrots means I don’t feel guilty about eating cookies. I can’t wait to dive into the batch you brought. I just hope they’re as good as the dog biscuits Henry gave me,” she said with a wink.

  He held up a beer bottle to toast. “Here’s hoping I can keep pace with my dog.”

  She finished another bite of the veggies then set down her fork. “Seriously though, Travis. I appreciate all of this—the cookies, the flowers, and fixing my car.” As she recounted the kind gestures, her heart beat a quick and happy rhythm that seemed to come out of nowhere. She nearly brought her hand to her chest to settle it down, because why on earth would it be all fluttery like that?

  He gestured to the food on the table. “And I really appreciate the extr
a effort you’ve gone to with Henry, and with this amazing meal,” he said, keeping up with the compliments, too. “I’ve just now decided it’s as good as any pasta dish, even with meat.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Now you’re just trying to ply me with praise to get in my pants again,” she said, because it was better to keep the focus on the out-of-this-world connection they shared between their bodies, rather than on the easy way they had of talking, of laughing, of leaning on each other. A wisp of worry crawled up her spine, reminding her to be careful, not to linger on those other things.

  “Then let’s finish dinner, because once with you is never enough for me,” he said in a voice both sexy and tender. Her heart dared to soar, and she wanted to smack the damn thing with a fly swatter for reacting simply to his tone. These stupid feelings that had the audacity to surface needed to be quelled immediately.

  She peered at the dogs, still lounging in the grass, choosing to focus on them. “Tell me, how did you pick the name Henry? It’s not a common name for a dog.”

  There. Better. Dogs were neutral ground. Travis took a swallow of his beer and leaned back in his chair. “Henry,” he said, stroking his chin, his eyes getting a faraway look. “It’s kind of a funny story.”

  “Tell me,” she said, clasping her hands under her chin.

  “Henry was my firehouse mentor. He worked with my dad. He was basically my father’s closest friend in the battalion. Battled many a fire together. He was there the night my dad died,” Travis said, taking a deep breath as he spoke.

  A lump rose in her throat. She scooted closer, resting a hand on his arm.

  “Henry didn’t try to be a surrogate father or anything,” Travis continued, “which was probably good. Because I’m kind of stubborn, as you may have noticed,” he said, stopping to flash a quick smile.

  She nodded and smiled, too, then let him continue.

  “And I probably wouldn’t have taken well to that. But he looked out for me when my dad was gone. I was ten, and he made sure I didn’t lose my way after that, you know? I think all the guys knew that Megan and I were kind of these lone kids for a bit, and while I looked after her, Henry could sense that I needed someone when my mom was struggling. So he’d bring me by the firehouse, and he’d check in, and as I grew older, he was the one who taught me the basics of fighting fires.”