Hot Damn(30)

“You’re tight.” He sounds like he can barely get the words out, and I laugh.

“That’s a relief.”

He chuckles back, but it’s a little choked. “God,” he says. “How much faster?”

“Give it to me.”

He groans deep in his chest, and then he starts to fuck me the way I want to be fucked—so hard and fast I can barely think anymore. In my head, I really am Catwoman, and he really is Batman, and we’re fucking on the roof looking out over Gotham City while sirens rise from the streets below.

Oh my God.

He’s pounding me from behind, and the sensation is so raw and primal I want to scream, but I know I can’t. I’ll wake up Christopher. I can feel my clit pulsing, and I want to touch it, tease myself over the edge. At the same time, I just want to feel every second of what he’s doing to me. Fall into the overload of need until it drowns me.

Jesse reaches down around me, almost as if he read my mind. His fingers find that slickened nub and slip over and past it, then tap it, press it, squeeze it gently. I open my mouth wide, just breathing out in an attempt to control the wail that wants to explode out of my throat. Still, I’m not quite over the edge.

“Maddy.” He murmurs my name into the back of my ear. I’m grateful that he remembers to be quiet. “I wish I could hear you scream my name,” he adds, and I have to say I feel the same way.

He nips my earlobe then licks it. His fingers continue to tease my clit. I’m not going to last much longer. Then, quietly, he says, “Now,” and then he bites my ear again, harder, and that’s all it takes.

Vaguely I realize his orgasm has joined mine; I can feel him throbbing inside me. My own body is on fire, pulsing, the flames rising and falling in walls of crimson. There’s a roaring in my ears, and then a warbling noise, like music…

It’s a phone, I realize as I start to come down. Jesse’s phone, warbling and buzzing on the coffee table next to us.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Gotta be work.”

“Oh no.” I collapse to the couch, still breathing hard, my body still rippling with the aftershocks of climax. Jesse flails toward the coffee table and grabs the phone.

“Yeah.” He’s silent a moment. “Okay. Be there as soon as I can.”

He turns to me. There are red spots high on his cheeks, and his hair is mussed, his lips swollen from kissing. He looks like he just fucked someone. I grin, more than a little smug.

He doesn’t seem to notice. “I gotta go. They need me at a fire.”

My grin fades. “Be careful.”

“I will.” He kisses me gently, then a little harder, then very softly. “Promise.”



The next day at the clinic, I’ve got a dog and three cats to take care of in addition to the desk work. Dr. Raczek left detailed instructions on medicating them through the day and then briefing their owners when they come to pick the animals up in the late afternoon. It’s good that it keeps me busy; otherwise I’d spend the whole day just thinking about Jesse. I take some time with the cats especially—one of them is dehydrated and looking pretty puny after a run-in with an intestinal bug.

I’m still giving her much-needed lunchtime scritches under her chin when the phone rings. I’m technically on my lunch break, so I ignore it. Either it’ll go to our emergency answering service or one of the vet techs will pick it up. After a couple more quick pats to the kitty’s head, I go back to the desk to double-check in case the call was important.

It’s gone to voice mail, so I enter the appropriate codes and grab a pencil and a message pad.

“Hello…” The word is hesitant. “I need to speak to…Maddy? I’m sorry, I don’t know the last name.” I sit up straighter, frowning. There’s something familiar about the voice. Wait—it clicks. It’s Whitaker, Jesse’s fellow fireman. “It’s about Jesse. He’s hurt pretty bad, and I can’t get through to his regular emergency contacts. You’re his girlfriend, right? Could you come by the hospital to give him a ride home?”

Oh my God. Jesse’s in the hospital. The panic attack has gotten fully underway before I have a chance to tell myself it can’t be too bad or he wouldn’t need a ride home. I set the phone back down and grab my purse. With a quick word to Dr. Raczek, I head for the hospital.



To my surprise, when I reach the hallway in front of Jesse’s hospital room, I hear shouting. That voice, too, is familiar. It’s Curry. My lip curls automatically at the sound. There is just something not okay about that guy. I’m more concerned about Jesse at the moment.

“It was a dumb-ass mistake, Curry!” Jesse shoots back. By the way he’s yelling, he must not be in too bad a shape. “You could have brought the house down on the entire crew.”

“There was nothing I—”

“Bullshit! You’re suspended. A week off, no pay. I’ll have the paperwork to you as soon as I get back onto the computer.”

“You can’t—”

Curry breaks off as I open the door and come quietly in. Whitaker is there, and one of the other guys, whose name I don’t remember. They both look like they’d rather be anywhere else. Understandable. It’s never fun to watch a coworker get ripped a new one. Jesse looks all right, but his right leg is swathed in gauze and there’s a distinct antiseptic smell to the room. My heart’s beating triple time, and I still feel choked from the panic.

“Just go,” says Jesse. He’s seen me, too, his gaze locking to mine, and when he speaks now his voice is more tired than belligerent.

Curry goes right by me, deliberately bumping my shoulder with his. The look he gives me is withering, and I wonder what the hell his beef is with me. I never did anything to him.

I’ll let it go for now. I move to the bed and take Jesse’s hand. “What happened? Whitaker said you got hurt.” I glance up at Whitaker and give him a small smile. “He didn’t give any details, though.”

Jesse makes a dismissive wave with his free hand. “Oh, it’s nothing. Just a stupid burn. They’re telling me I need to take it easy for a while until it heals. Risk of infection, blah blah blah.”

“Third-degree burn,” Whitaker interjects. “It’s not small.”

Jesse gives him a look. I squeeze Jesse’s hand. “That must hurt.”

“Yeah, it hurts. They gave me pills, though. I’m supposed to take them for the pain, and I’m not supposed to drive.”

I nod. They’ve probably given him some pretty strong painkillers for a third-degree burn. “I’ll drive you home, then. Are you sure you’re all right to leave the hospital?”

“They gave me the all clear as long as I could get a ride.”

“Okay. But will you be okay at home by yourself?” I know this is a loaded question, but it has to be asked. I’m not going to drop him off and leave him there if he can’t take care of himself.

A familiar leer curls across Jesse’s mouth, and for the first time since I walked in the room, I’m sure he’s going to be all right. “I think I’m going to need some help. I’m not supposed to walk. So I’ll definitely need you to take care of me.”

“I think that’s our cue to leave,” Whitaker says, and gestures to the other man. They leave the room, telling Jesse to take care of himself.

When the door closes behind them, I lean down toward Jesse, who hasn’t let go of my hand. “I didn’t sign up to be your nursemaid.”

“Aw, c’mon. Isn’t that what girlfriends do? Take care of their men?”

“I’m not your real girlfriend.” Still, my gaze slides to his leg and the thick bandages there. He’s going to take some time to heal.

“Oh, I see.” He sounds put out, but his eyes are glinting with amusement, so I know he’s at least partially teasing. “You’re okay with taking advantage of my body but not so much with making sure it stays intact?”

“That’s not what I meant!”

“Got to admit, though, it kind of sounded like that.”

At this point I can’t tell if he’s serious or not, so I push to my feet. “Let’s call the nurse and get you home.”



In Jesse’s absence, Thor has apparently torn the stuffing out of an ottoman. It’s in a corner of the room, so I hope Jesse won’t notice it right away.

He has Thor for company, and the cat makes his presence known by jumping up onto the couch and making himself comfortable next to Jesse’s head. He starts rubbing against Jesse’s hair, like he’s scratching himself or asking to be petted, then he settles down on the arm of the couch and starts nibbling and licking at Jesse’s hair.

“Ow,” says Jesse. Thor has done a little more than lick him; he’s yanking at bits of hair like he’s trying to pluck Jesse bald. “What the hell is he doing now?”

I wave a hand at Thor, trying to dissuade him. I kind of like Jesse’s hair attached to his head, thank you very much. “It’s probably the hospital smell. He’s trying to rub it off and make you smell more like him.”

“I’d rather not smell like a mangy Maine Coon.”