LITMIR.BIZ

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think he was a pig.

      “Softy, you gonna stop manhandling the girl?” It was the lieutenant, Bulldog Spievak, and damn him, he had to use that stupid nickname.

      Reluctantly Scott released Jenny, who took a small step back. He was wondering if he should introduce her to the lieutenant and was waiting for another crude comment, when Jenny spoke.

      “Softy?” she asked, raising both eyebrows this time. She glanced down, below his belt.

      Crap. She thought he couldn’t get it up. “I’m a probationer at the fire hall,” he said grimly, “so they had to give me a shitty nickname. Remember that old tissue ad, Scotty’s little softy?”

      Her lips curved. “Softens the…blow,” she said, her voice husky. Somehow the words the guys had used to rib him now took on a sexy connotation.

      Blow. Blow job. That pretty mouth wrapped around him, her soft hair every which way on his belly.

      She moved forward and stretched up as tall as she could reach, hands gripping his shoulders for balance, breasts grazing him. Her eyes flashed with something smokin’ hot that said sex to him.

      He wanted to grab her, throw her to the ground, rip off her clothes. Instead he leaned down to catch her whisper as she said, “Definitely not soft now.”

      Jesus, he had a boner, and it was growing. And her nipples were hard buds pressing into him—saying sex, too, in an unmistakable way.

      “Lieutenant?” He sent a pleading look in the direction of the guy whose stubbornness had given him his nickname. Hoping he’d for once cut him a break.

      “Guys were gonna buy you a beer.” Spievak was laughing as he turned away. “Prob’ly the last time you’ll get that offer, but then I guess you got yourself a better one anyhow, pisser.”

      Jenny, still hanging on to Scott’s shoulders, gave a quick grin. Then, as the lieutenant stomped off, she eased away and took a step back. “Pisser?” she asked. “Another nickname?”

      “It’s what they call the probies. The probationers.”

      She nodded, eyes twinkling now, but beneath the twinkle there was still a banked fire.

      “Sorry,” he muttered cautiously. Was this girl coming on to him or not? “I should’ve told him it was an interview.”

      “Is that what this is?”

      “Uh, well, you said…”

      “Yes, I’m doing a story, and, yes, I need an interview.” She stood back, studying him, her eyes narrowed. “I want to ask you something.”

      Too bad. Looked like she wanted to get down to business. “Okay.”

      She fingered the bow tie at her throat. “Did you throw this to me?”

      If he’d known there’d be this kind of spark between them, he sure as hell would have.

      He didn’t believe in lying, not even to get a woman into bed. “I’m glad you’re the one who got it, but, nah. I was aiming for the tall blonde with all the wavy hair.”

      “Suzanne. She’s taken.” She paused. “You like blondes, don’t you?”

      “I guess.” He shrugged. “Hell, I’m a guy, I like women. Pretty women. Tall, short. Blond, brunet, redhead.”

      “And I’m a woman. So is that boner for me specifically, or will any woman do?”

      Oh, crap, how was he supposed to answer? Maybe it was time to second-think that no-lies policy.

      No. Even if it cost him sex. “Okay, that boner’s for you, and your pink toenails, that pretty belly button, that hair.” He closed his eyes, imagined a swirl of glossy, silken hair against his naked body, and his cock twitched. “Man, that hair. But, truth is, tonight maybe any woman would’ve done.”

      “You were already turned on from dancing on stage to that music.”

      Jesus, she didn’t miss a thing. He could feel himself flush. “Sax music makes me think of sex. I got into the music, and…it happened. I thought…I mean, I’m wearing dark pants.” Though sweat had pretty much glued them to his body. “Was it obvious?” Had everyone in the whole fucking theater seen?

      She shook her head. “I was in the front row, I’ve got a zoom on my camera and…I was looking.”

      “Oh.” She’d been looking. At his groin. Damn, there was hope for him yet!

      “It turned me on, too,” she said, that simmering heat back in her gaze. “The music, the dance. You getting aroused.” She tilted her head. “You. You turned me on.” She reached up a hand and ran it through her hair slowly and sensuously so it fanned out again and shimmered. “It made me wet.”

      Wet. Under that little mini, she’d been wet for him. Maybe still was.

      “You got hard,” she said, her gaze a hot touch glancing across his fly. She ran her tongue around those soft pink lips and her eyes glowed. “And I got wet.”

      The way her lips shaped the word “wet” was about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

      “Hard and wet go together,” she said in a breathy whisper. “Don’t you think?”

      Think? Like he could think, when his cock was ready to bust out of his pants? When her nipples were beaded under her shirt and her eyes were saying, Sex, now.

      Scott grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the exit.

      2

      Jenny could barely catch her breath as she scrambled to keep up with Scott. The backpack she’d slung over one arm banged against her hip with every step. Tough on her hip, not to mention the camera inside the bag.

      But who cared? She’d done it. She’d seduced the hottest firefighter in Vancouver!

      He yanked her through a heavy exit door and they were outside on a landing above a short flight of concrete steps leading down into a back alley. Not the most romantic setting. Where was he taking her?

      Two steps down, Scott stopped, made one of those mangled, tortured sounds only a guy can emit, said, “Fuck,” and whipped around to face her.

      The expression on his face told her that setting—and romance—were the last thing on his mind. Sex. He wanted down-and-dirty sex, this very minute.

      She set down her bag and had just started to worry about their more-than-a-foot height difference when he solved the problem. He gripped her waist and hoisted her up. Automatically her hands circled his neck and locked. Her skirt was up around her hips, her legs hooked themselves around him and his hands cupped her thonged butt, holding her securely.

      Not only strong, but superefficient.

      She gazed up at him, a little stunned, and his lips came down on hers. Jesus!

      His tongue was in her mouth. How had that happened? How could it feel so good?

      Tongue, dick…. Her body responded to the first as if it were the second, each stroke of his tongue making her needy pussy clench.

      Hungrily she sucked that sexy tongue, danced with it until it retreated, and then she followed it back into his mouth, pursuing, taking back the lead. She drove her hands through his hair, held his head, tilted it just where she wanted it and deepened the kiss. Deeper and deeper, kiss after kiss.

      Until she had to break away, gasping for breath.

      She stared at Scott and he stared back. He was gasping, too, his naked chest heaving under the open vest. She wanted to lick that chest, all over.

      After she got her breath.

      He was leaning against the metal railing that ran along the staircase and didn’t even seem to feel her hundred pounds. The heavy denim of her skirt bunched between them,

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