It’s still hot, hot, hot at RT HQ, so we feel extra ready for a steamy hump day excerpt. If it’s time for you to take a break to celebrate that we’ve made it mid-week (wahoo!) — we’ve got a sultry scene from Kate Meader‘s upcoming Sparking the Fire. We thought we’d commemorate this latest Hot in Chicago novel — starring brooding firefighter Wyatt (we love it when they brood) and Molly, a famous actress dealing with a public divorce — with a hot, hot excerpt. Enjoy!
He was completely screwed.
Not in the best sense of the word—not yet—but Wyatt had gone and done exactly what he had sworn he would not do. Let the passions he claimed complete control over stage a freakin’ coup. So much for clearheaded decision making. So much for putting the best interests of his family first.
None of that apparently mattered, because the one thing that had the ability to override all common sense was in his arms. Desire erupted, leaving no room for sanity. Watching her come undone with his fingers inside her just about undid him, and now his cock pushed insistently against the inviting cleft of her ass, begging for its turn.
But first he needed to feel every single one of those beautiful curves. His hands roved and skimmed, cupped and plumped. Her ass was the Eighth Wonder, her breasts works of art. He tried to freeze a moment he thought would never arrive and hoped would never end.
Molly. The dream girl. Not because she was everyone’s dream, but because first, she had been his.
“You waiting for an invitation, Marine?”
“Been awhile. Once I’m inside you, I might not last.”
“Stamina was never a problem before.” Turning to face him, she gripped his erection, testing that statement. He clamped down on his lip, but a groan escaped nonetheless along with a ragged “Molly.” Tentative at first, her strokes became tighter, rougher, more sure as he fucked her hand.
“Yeah, that’s it. Work me good.”
Soap-slick, her hand pumped while the other slipped underneath to cup his heavy balls.
“You used to like this,” she whispered. “You liked when I stroked them, licked them, sucked them in my mouth.”
He’d loved it. He loved everything she did then and everything she was doing now.
Pleasure built, fast rising, ever tightening, and he withdrew. “Inside you—need to—fuck.”
Exclamation and intention.
He grabbed the condom, tore at the wrapper, and smoothed it on with a jerky motion and animalistic grunt. She was so short he’d need to lift her, which meant his shoulder would bitch and moan at him later. Whatever. These days he was used to everyone and everything being pissed at him, so his ticked-off muscles could get in line.
He went to hitch her up, but she moved out of his grasp. And turned around.
“You’ve been watching my ass for a while now, Wyatt. Figured you might appreciate this view.”
Below flared hips and a waist he could span with both hands, those perfect rounds sat up expectantly. Silky-smooth cheeks just waiting for him to spread apart and drill deep.
She placed both palms on the tiled wall, her right foot on the ledge of the tub, and hinged her hips at the most inviting angle to take her. Clearly thinking of his shoulder, and he supposed he should be glad of her consideration even if he didn’t much like the idea she might not think him fully capable.
That world-class ass was helping him to deal.
Over her shoulder, she bit down on the fleshy pillow of her lip and raised one of those wild, sexy eyebrows. “Take me, Marine.”
No need to ask twice. Hands on her hips, he rubbed his aching cock against the sweet, pink heaven she offered. Then he drove past the pearly gates into the hot clasp of her.
“Oh, God!” Fisting the tile, she pounded it once, twice. “That’s—oh!”
His thoughts, exactly. He withdrew, plunged to the root, and filled her completely. The worry that he would blow as soon as he slipped inside her faded as remembrance of how their bodies worked together took over. Rarely had it been too fast; there had always been time, and that’s how it was now. He slowed, stayed his pleasure to give hers a chance to build. Every inch inside her was torture, every one outside was pain.
Riveted, he watched where their bodies connected, the thick, sensual slide of his cock into the tight, velvet heat. Nothing had ever felt this good. No one had ever felt this good.
It had always been her.
Shoving that thought deep, he got to work on shoving his body deeper, particularly the hardest part of his anatomy into the softest part of hers. With every thrust, it became more difficult to leave her. The tight walls of her pussy clenched, held on tight, and without quite knowing how it happened, he had her pinned to the tile. Likely she had led him there with his cock embedded snugly inside her.
His hand fed around her body and grasped one silky tit, the other dipped to her swollen clit.
Still inside her, he slowed to a steady rock, needing to prolong this perfect, perfect moment. His mouth grazed her ear and kissed her softly.
She turned her head, her heavy-lidded gaze unable to mask the pleasure he was giving her. He stroked her clit and watched how her pupils blew wide with lust. In the grip of passion, her eyes ranged a rainbow of blues and violets. How had he forgotten that? Those subtle color changes heralding her rising pleasure. Silver sparks igniting. Another stroke of her clit turned them to a molten mercury. The next slippery brush brought sunset over a foreign desert. Beneath his fingertips, she bloomed to match the vibrantly colored desire in her eyes.
A squeeze of her silken muscles around his cock drew a loud groan from him. She licked the corner of his mouth. There was something a little dirty about it.
“You wanna play hardball, Molly?”
Her mouth curved, all vixen. “I think you need to come, Marine.”
Yeah, but the challenge had been laid down.
Slowly, he set up a sensuous rhythm of pumping his cock, circling her clit, and kneading her breast. A trifecta of pleasure. She moved her hand to ring his neck, found purchase in his hair. It felt like every part of his body touched every part of hers, their nerve endings entwining, this connection he never wanted to cease. But he could feel the end in sight, the escalating desire in his groin about to graduate to an explosive orgasm.
He turned his index finger to the callused side and glanced it across her clit. Finally, she let go. That clamp of her hot little pussy around his shaft triggered his own much-needed release. On and on it went as she milked him so good his brain might have oozed out of his ears, as well.
Better with her than anyone. An observation that shouldn’t grate, but did. He’d raised her up before, those six days of perfect pleasure the highlight of his sorry life. Now she was climbing the charts again.
He wanted more. Not only because sex this good should not be passed up, but to prove to himself that there was nothing more to it. She needed to be knocked off that pedestal and restored to a place of fond, distant memories. She needed to be that chick he balled in a hotel room five years ago—and not the woman who got away.
Wyatt had to practically lift her out of the tub she was so spent. Around her shoulders he draped a fluffy towel and rubbed softly against her skin.
His gaze ate her alive as if he hadn’t already used up all his intensity in the shower. “You’re staying, Molly. No need for you to move into a new place.”
Where had that come from? “I can’t. This—” She waved between them. “This can’t happen again.”
He pulled her close using the towel. “Promised I’d watch your ass.”
“Then watch it while I leave you in the dust on a run.”
“Best view in the city, but as long as you’re living in Chicago, you’re my responsibility.”
Out of respect, she considered this for 2.5 seconds. “Don’t be ridiculous, Wyatt. I’m a grown woman who can take care of myself.” Or pay people vast sums of money to do so. A shiver ran through her. This was her life. Her well-being had a monetary value. These last couple of days, without her high-priced security, she had felt safe, cocooned, and best of all, normal.
“This isn’t about you not being able to take care of yourself, Molly. This is about my peace of mind. Whether you’re in this house or next door, it don’t matter. This is happening.”
“And what about this?” Again she motioned between them, feeling like a mime who had failed Mimeology 101. “Is this happening?”
“Course it is. You think one time is enough?” He leaned in, bending slightly because he was so much taller than her. “Five years ago, we couldn’t get enough of each other. If I wasn’t slipping inside you, caught between the dream of you and the fantasy in my arms, I was waking up to find your sweet lips wrapped around my cock, sucking me off like your next breath depended on it.” He maneuvered her against the vanity. The towel fell from her shoulders as he rubbed his now rehardened cock against her stomach. A quick lift brought them fully aligned. “Don’t make out like we’re done here, because that gorgeous body of yours is telling a whole other story.”
She threw up her hands, unable to verbalize. The soul of wit.
“Got a lot of talents, Mol. Mind reading ain’t one of them.” He swiped her lip with his thumb. His expression darkened. “Okay, I get it. You don’t want to be seen with me. Well, that happens to work both ways.”
Blunt, but then that was Wyatt. “In a nutshell.”
“Sounds like a recipe for an illicit, under-the-radar fling. We’ll be careful. No one has to know. And you’re a great actor.”
She wasn’t that good. “I think you’re going to be better at this than me.”
Damn, she had already agreed. Wyatt Mind Trick.
“Answer this. Do you want me? Want what only I can give you?” His erection slip-slid through her soft, saturated flesh while he stared at her with those eyes. They searched inside her and locked on to something deep.
She nodded, feeling powerless to lie to him. That was the problem with magnets. Attraction wasn’t a choice.
“That’s all I need to know. There’s a Starbucks nearby, a five-star chef next door, and I can give you tips on dodging the press. Just think, babe. We’ll be craving each other”—a lusty suck on her lower lip—“sneaking around”—an unfairly sensuous rub of that weapon between his legs against her greedy center—“taking our pleasure where we can find it. Just for a few weeks. Now, don’t that sound good?”
It sounded wonderful. A hot, secret, summer affair with an ex, no, former marine firefighter, who looked like a pirate and fucked like a dream. With a built-in expiration date, there’d be no awkward separation. All upside.
Still, she felt compiled to point out the downside. “We can’t be seen together at the set,” she whispered, “and have you forgotten that you live with a teenage girl and your family is pretty much everywhere?” Luckily, Roni was over at Beck’s tonight, but they couldn’t expect this level of privacy on a regular basis.
He looked invigorated by the challenge. “We’ll figure out something. Just know this, Molly: I have to have you. And I’ll feel better knowing you’re here, safe and under my protection.” And then he fell to his knees, his mouth seeking where she needed him most. Proving his point as only Wyatt could with his body, beard, and sheer force of will.
Her presence here might be giving him the peace of mind he needed, but it was doing sweet damn all for hers.
Sparking the Fire will be available in stores and online September 27. You can grab your copy here: Amazon | BN.com | Kobo | iTunes | GooglePlay | AllRomance. Digital copies start at $6.99. And if you need another dose of hump day lovin, we are here for you, as always!