Wet(9)

At the mention of her late grandmother, Granddaddy Errol’s wife, the lines on his forehead deepened.

“What is it?” Katy asked.

“There was just something about that person on the other end of the line. Whoever called about the fire had been disguising their voice, but there was something familiar about it.”

Katy’s head jerked back with a start. “You think it was my late grandma?” She stared at him and wondered what he’d been smoking. Or worse, maybe he’d inhaled too much creosote over the years and the extended exposure was slowly killing off brain cells.

Trent laughed. “No, I don’t. It’s just that sometimes Errol rolls his Rs. So did the caller.”

She crinkled her nose. “You think Granddaddy started the fire? Why would he do something like that?”

She took a moment to think about Granddaddy Errol and her heart lurched. He’d aged so much over the last few years, especially since he’d lost Grandma Margaret. His cloudy blue eyes had lost some of the shine except, Katy noticed, when they met hers. Since she’d come home, the wicked gleam that spoke of love and life had returned. She pushed back the guilt. God, she hadn’t meant to hurt her granddaddy when she’d left, and knew how much he wanted her to return home and have a family of her own, one that he could enjoy and watch over.

“No. No, of course not.” Trent shook his head.

Katy stepped in front of him to open the door. “Because I don’t think he’d put me in danger and—”

Trent cut her off, leaned forward and put his mouth close to her ear. “Yeah, but maybe he knows as long as I’m around you’ll never be in danger, Katy.”

His warm breath trickled along her spine and the heat in his voice when he spoke her name had her spinning around to face him. “I…I still don’t think he’d do something like this.”

He dipped his head lower, and his lips were so close to hers she was sure he was going to kiss her. “No. You’re probably right.’ His voice was so deep, so full of desire, it seeped under her skin and brought on a shiver.

From the top of her head to the tips of her toes, her entire body trembled. She was about to say something, but he touched her nightie and rolled the material between his fingers. Oh God, those fingers. She remembered how they touched her, how they felt caressing her body, how they felt inside her.

“We need to get you out of this,” he murmured low.

“Mmmm, yeah, good idea…” Katy’s mind drifted off, filling with erotic visions of Trent peeling the slip of material from her body and kissing a lazy path over her flesh until he reached the spot that needed his tongue the most. In her mind’s eye she envisioned him burying his mouth between her legs while he pushed two thick fingers inside her and brought her to orgasm. Another shiver wracked her body.

When his warm chuckle reached her ears, her mind snapped back to reality. She blinked her eyes into focus, and when she caught the sexy, crooked grin on Trent’s mouth, she said, “Wait. What? Why?”

Trent moistened his lips and she damn near orgasmed then and there. “It’s wet, remember?”

Oh yeah, she remembered.

“You’re shivering and we don’t want you to catch…”

She cut him off, and realized he’d mistaken her shiver. “I know, I know. My death of cold.”

His earlier words hit like a cold, wet facecloth. Trent was a nice guy, a sweet caring man who didn’t want her to get sick. He was not making a pass at her, no matter how much she wanted him to. And he was not at her house because he wanted to see her. He was there because someone was toying with him. Probably an old school chum back in town for the reunion  .

Speaking of toying…

His enticing scent played havoc with her senses as he reached past her and pushed open the door. “After you.”

Katy slid her arms over her chest to hide the telltale hardening of her nipples as she slipped inside and made a beeline for her bedroom.

Trent was a gentleman. A firefighter. Simply doing what good firefighters do. Helping victims of a fire, no matter how big or small said fire was. Yeah, there were sparks between them, but he did not want to sleep with her. He still hated her for leaving. She needed to get that through her skull.

Flustered, she tore off her nightie, grabbed her housecoat, and in her haste she somehow tangled the belt around her arms. A noise behind her had her spinning around, only to come face-to-face with Trent.

He stood in her doorway, leaning against the jamb with his hands deep in his pockets. His hot glance raked over her naked body and she had to lock her knees to keep upright.

“Hey,” he murmured, and she heard the raw ache of lust in that one word.