Santa Wore Leathers: The sexiest firefighter Christmas romance of the year!

Chapter 3

Wolf knew the moment Becca stepped into his living room. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end. He swiveled slowly and the air whooshed from his lungs when he zeroed-in on her. Holy Mother of God.

Someone had painted a skimpy red swath of material over a small portion of her skin. It was strapless, pushing the tops of her breasts upward, inviting a man’s fingers to trail over them…or his lips to taste. His fingers flexed in an unspoken command. The hem of the dress barely caressed the essentials. His gaze took a long, leisurely tour of toned thighs and calves, and his cock stood as if it wanted to get a peek at them too. Her red ankle-strap stilettos initiated fantasies of having those satiny-looking limbs wrapped around his hips while he sank into her warmth—repeatedly.

Once his gaze had slowly devoured the sight of her red toenails and snaked over every curve of her luscious body to her siren-red lips, his jeans were so damn tight his pecker would bear the zipper’s imprint for days. Hell, he’d have to stop going commando if he spent more time around her.

Becca glared at him with those smoking eyes of hers, heavily made up to ensnare a man’s attention—and she certainly had his. In fact, she’d captured it his first day here when he glanced out his kitchen door to see her playing with Einstein in her backyard. With his work schedule and hers, meeting up with her to introduce himself and strike up a conversation hadn’t come easy. Now that it had, he intended to get to know her better.

Their gazes connected and a current of potent awareness seemed to arc between them. Becca’s eyes narrowed and she hiked her pointy chin before she sauntered toward Barclay and Quinn from the fire station. Was he seeing correctly? Holy fuck, the back of what barely passed as a dress dipped to showcase two dimples at the flare of her most excellent ass. Damn. Shouldn’t that be illegal in polite society? He glared at the guys. Just what the hell were they gawking at with lust in their eyes? Freakin’ perverts.

“Wow, who’s the lady in red?” Cassie, his baby sister, pointed with her beer bottle. “Redheads don’t usually look good in that color, but she looks fantastic. That is one killer dress.”

“Yeah. What there is of it.” He snatched the long neck from Cassie. “She’s Becca, my next-door neighbor, and you are not drinking.”

“I’ll be twenty-one next month.”

“Well, this isn’t January, now, is it?”

“You’re awful grumpy for being the birthday boy.” Cassie frowned.

Yeah, well try being the birthday boy with a massive hard-on in a roomful of people. He brought her beer to his mouth and upended it. Lord knew, he needed something to cool off with after feasting his eyes on Becca.

Cassie looped her arm in his. “I don’t need you to be my daddy anymore, big brother. You’ve sacrificed too much for us. All of us.” She jerked her chin in Becca’s direction. “You need to get a personal life. I see how you look at her. It’s as if she were a pitcher of ice water and you needed a long, slow drink.”

Hell, baby sister, if you only knew.

He bent to kiss Cassie’s dark hair. When he’d resigned his commission with the SEALs she had been sixteen, troubled and homeless. She needed his influence and care. So had his other three sisters. His brother, Jace, newly married to Wendy Anne and finishing college, had had his own list of responsibilities. The last thing Jace needed heaped on his plate was four teenage girls crowding his apartment, taking away the privacy every man should have with his new wife. It seemed the whole family needed Wolf’s help to get them through the grief of losing both parents in the hellacious fire that destroyed two homes on their block.

His CO tried talking him out of resigning and had said he had a bright future in the Navy. But as the oldest sibling, he had obligations. Family had been so important to his mom and dad. He wasn’t about to dishonor their memory by turning his back on them.

“Is there any more of that fruit punch you made?” He’d like to keep her from drinking until she was legal… or thirty-five.

Cassie’s eyes narrowed and she nodded.

“Why don’t you get us each a glass? Lots of ice in mine.” Punch was the last thing he wanted, but if it kept her away from the booze, he’d gladly suffer through.

“You are so-o-o transparent.” She strode away.

“Yeah, well, you are so-o-o underage, Cassie-Bassie.” He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

Wolf’s gaze swept to Becca. Quinn had her backed against the wall where his forearm rested above her pretty head. She was paying close attention to whatever he was saying. No doubt Quinn, the bastard, was working his charm on her. Something elemental and possessive unfurled and snarled in Wolf’s gut. Oh no. Oh, hell no! He shouldered his way through a roomful of guests. If anyone was going to flirt with her tonight, it would damn well be him. He had seen her first, dammit.

“When is the charity bike ride for children’s toys?” Becca’s gaze flicked to his when he stopped next to her and Quinn.

“Saturday after next. Right, Wolf?” Quinn gave an ornery grin. “Guess who’s leading the ride dressed up as Santa?” Quinn the blabbermouth jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “We voted The Wolf in.”

“Railroaded would be more like it. I took off work to look after Cassie when she had her wisdom teeth out, and the whole gang at the station decided to pick the least-likely candidate for the position.” He sidled up to Becca and trailed a finger down her arm. “Do I look like Santa to you?”

She scowled and turned slightly out of his reach. “No, you don’t. You do resemble one of his elves, though. Dopey.”

“Hey,” he splayed a hand over his chest. “You’re breaking my heart here. Besides, wasn’t Dopey a dwarf?”

She nodded and winked. “Yup, but tall or short, in your case, it fits.” Pleased with herself, if her smirk was any indication, she fingered one of her dangly earrings, which was so long it kissed her bare shoulder. “Is Cassie one of your girlfriends?”

“Oh, God, no. I’m his baby sister.” Cassie handed him a glass of punch. “Wolf, where are your manners? She doesn’t have a drink.” His sister elbowed Quinn. “Hot lips, why don’t you get Becca a glass of wine. White or red?”

“I’m not staying. I just came over for—”

“She’ll have white. It goes best with birthday cake.” Wolf kept his gaze locked on Becca’s. “Bring her a slab of cake, too, Quinn. In fact, fix her a whole plate of goodies. My sisters have outdone themselves.”

“Hey, it’s not every day our big brother turns thirty.” Cassie took Quinn’s hand and they ambled toward the dining room.

For some reason, Becca blushed a deep red. “How…how many sisters do you have?”

He sipped at the punch and set it on a nearby table. “Four. I’m the oldest, then my brother Jace.” He started to point across the room, thought better of it, and stepped nearer to Becca. Placing one hand at the small of her bare back, he indicated where his brother sat with his wife on his lap. “You’ve already met Wendy Anne.”

“Yes.” She shivered slightly under his touch, which pleased him.

“They’re expecting a child. They just made the announcement at our family Thanksgiving meal. They lost the first baby, so Wendy Anne wanted to wait until her first trimester was over to share the news.”

Becca glanced at him. “How do you feel about being an uncle?”

He laughed. “I’ve already bought the stroller. Rated the safest on the market. It’s going to be the kid’s first Christmas gift. That and a big toy wolf.” He motioned with his hands. “It’s got to be the size of Einstein.”

“What’s a baby going to do with a gigantic thing like that?”

“You just wait. The kid will drag it everywhere.” He turned her slightly. “See the girl in black over by the doorway? That’s April, the oldest of my sisters. She’s arguing with Jenna, another sister. April’s engaged and wants her best friend for her maid of honor. Jenna’s feelings are hurt, but with three sisters, how can April choose just one?”

“I see her point.”

With her heels, Becca was nearly as tall as his six foot two, and he liked being able to look directly into her hazel eyes. There were gold flecks in their depths. He leaned a little closer to inhale her vanilla and lilac scent.

“Is Cassie the sister who gave you Fluffy?” She glanced around. “Where is the cat?”

“Hiding out upstairs in my bedroom. She won’t come down until the house is quiet again. Megan, sister number three, gave me the fur ball when she went away to University of Florida. ” He slid his hand upward from the small of her back until he could wrap his arm around her shoulder. “That’s her holding court with three of the firemen from our fire and rescue station. Megan’s an R.N.”

“You sound proud.”

“I’m proud of all of them. Cassie graduated from beauty school last spring and has her own beauty shop over on Pinella. April’s an engineer. Jenna works as a buyer for Macy’s.”

“And you’re a fireman.”

He smiled. “That I am, although my primary duty is to head the Marine Rescue Unit. What about you?”

“I’m a reporter for the Clearwater Daily.” She accepted the glass of wine Cassie handed her and sipped.

Freakin’ hell. Of all the professions in the world, why that one? “A reporter? Don’t tell me you’re one of those lowlifes who ask victims at the most painful points of their lives how they felt when the car ran over their child or a bomb exploded in their faces.” Or when an arsonist’s handiwork burned down the family’s home with their parents sleeping inside.

Becca straightened her shoulders and folded her arms at her waist. “People have a right to the news. The complete news.”

“And people have a right to their privacy. Reporters are the pimple on the ass of the world.”

Before his eyes, Becca morphed from a sensual, enticing breeze to a blistering tempest. “You arrogant, opinionated ass. Reporters have a job to do the same as anyone else!”

He leaned in, his temper burning hot in his gut. “Oh, and is it your job to hurt others?”

“Hur…hurt others? What the hell are you talking about?”

“Wolf.” Cassie’s request was barely a whisper. She wiped a tear and stormed off.

Becca stared after his sister’s hurried retreat. “See, you’ve even upset her.”

“Not me. You.” He poked his finger against the bare skin of her shoulder. He took a deep breath to try and settle his raging anger and glanced away for a beat. “We lost our parents in a fire four years ago. Cassie was staying at a friend’s house the night it happened.”

He looked at Becca again. Her eyebrows were furrowed, as if taking in every word he uttered. “My baby sister blamed herself for not being home, felt if she had been, she might have saved Mom and Dad. Reporters hounded her relentlessly, asking her how she ‘felt.’” He spat the last word. “She wasn’t the only one harassed. So were the rest of my siblings, but for Cassie, combined with her blaming herself, their onslaught nearly did her in. I left the SEALs and came home to care for her and to finish raising the older three girls.”

Her warm hand settled on his forearm and he welcomed the contact, reporter or not.

“I’m sorry for all your family went through. That’s a horrible, horrible tragedy.”

He nodded, ready to change the topic. “Are your parents living?”

“Yes. They’re divorced. Dad lost his job in the weakened economy. We lost the house. Mom lost her lifestyle.” She wove fingers through her long curls and sighed. “Everything fell apart.”

“Yeah. Life can be a bitch.”

Becca sipped her wine, her forehead furrowed. “You know, not all reporters are as aggressive as the ones your family tangled with.”

He chuffed a short laugh. “Do you really want to continue down that dark path of conversation? We all have our pet peeves, our push buttons. Reporters are mine.”

“So you blame all reporters for a few rogue ones with zero sensitivity? Even someone like me, who handles obituaries and the social pages?” Her hazel eyes narrowed and her lips pinched. “Golly, I bet you really hate the guys who cover the sports, thoughtless heathens that they are.” She handed him her glass, turned and stormed out with that world-class ass twitching under her tight skirt.

He shoved a hand into the pocket of his jeans. A reporter. The first woman in years to snag his attention and she just had to be a freaking reporter. A soulless parasite who fed on the misfortune of others. A beautiful and enticing parasite. She stirred something in him, and he wasn’t at all sure he liked it. He clunked her glass on the stand next to his. Damn it all to hell.

As if she were a siren and he her mindless fool, he followed.

Chapter 4

Becca fingered for her door key, hidden in the hanging fern on her porch and wiped off the dirt before sticking it in her lock. Going over to Wolf’s had been a huge mistake. Huge. She’d gone to the trouble of getting made-up and squeezed into her best dress for five minutes of party and ten minutes of lecture. Damn, what an annoying man.

From inside, Einstein barked and whined an eager welcome.

“Becca! Becca, wait up.” Hurried footfalls sounded behind her and a hand coiled around her arm. Wolf turned her to face him. “I was offensive back there. I’m sorry.”

Just why did you have to make him so handsome, God? Even in the dark, his voice is deep and sensual. Couldn’t you have taken some of his abundant sexiness and used it to make him more pleasant? ’Cause this guy is one rude piece of work.

She jerked her hand from his grasp. “First, you can stop putting your hands on me. Earlier today you said you were sorry for flirting with me, as if I wasn’t the type of woman you found attractive.”

“That’s not true. I find you very attractive. What man wouldn’t?”

She chose to ignore his forced compliment. After all, she’d gotten all dressed up for him and he never once told her how nice she looked. Nice? Hell, she looked hot, the big jerk. “Now you’re apologizing for being impolite and insulting. Tell me, do you ever do anything you don’t regret later?”

He backed her against the door, his dark eyes glittering in the soft light spilling onto the porch from her desk lamp near the window. Her tummy did a little twitchy thing when his thighs bumped hers. His fingers forked in her hair, angling her head so their gazes locked. “Believe me, you annoying woman, what I’m about to do next I don’t plan on regretting.”

His warm, soft lips covered hers with gentle sips at first as if tasting her or waiting for her to object. She would have, too, if her mind hadn’t stopped working. Her whole body sparked with a sensual overload, and she trembled with its power. His fingertips massaged her scalp in miniscule circles, sending an erotic electrical current zinging down her thighs to zap the tips of her toes.

Her hands took on a life of their own and spread over his hard chest and broad shoulders. Tension rippled beneath his white, soft polo shirt as her hands explored and caressed. He tasted of beer and something sweet, whipped into a frenzy with tightly reigned male passion. Wood tones from his cologne were too appealing. Against her desires—or because of them—she pressed against the heat of his muscular frame.

He groaned her name against her lips and she was lost.

Wrapping her arms around his neck and allowing her fingers to sift through his long hair, she tangled her tongue with his. Wetness pooled and a moan escaped from the confines of her chest. How long? How long had it been since she’d felt so feminine, so aroused, so damned desperate for a man? When he angled his head to take the kiss deeper and rocked his hips against hers, the fleeting question in her mind morphed into raw need.

He took control, grabbed her bottom and rubbed her mound against his erection to increase the friction.

A rainbow of fireworks exploded behind her eyelids. Sensations staggering between pain and pleasure erupted. If she didn’t end this, she’d climax on her front porch—and wouldn’t that just add to his egotistical opinion of himself?

She pushed him away. “No.”

His eyes were hooded and obsidian with desire. He rested his forehead against hers and took several long, deep breaths. “You’re right. Not here. Not now.”

“Not ever.”

Caution coiled strong tentacles around her heart. She wanted this man. Perhaps that was why she watched him from her window and was so attentive to his comings and goings. Something about his bearing attracted her, and she wanted him with an intensity she’d never had with Tommy Ray. What passion they’d shared at the start of their four-year marriage soon died. No doubt a few times with Wolf and this sexual craze would fade too. Would its ending hurt as much as the conclusion of her life with her ex-husband? She wouldn’t allow herself to find out. This magnetism had to cease now.

“You have a party to return to, birthday boy.”

His head inclined and he feathered several kisses against her neck. She stifled a moan. It was as if he already knew her body’s erogenous zones. Her nipples peaked in search of friction from his fingers or tongue.

He straightened and ran the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip. “I have to work tomorrow and the next day. We do two twenty-four-hour shifts at the station and then have two days off. My family’s going Christmas-caroling at two retirement homes Wednesday evening. Would you like to come along? It’s something we started on my first Christmas out of the Navy. Being with seniors reminds us of our parents and grandparents.” He glanced away. “Anchors us in the season, somehow.”

Pain, grief perhaps, tinged his final statement and touched her heart. “That’s a very magnanimous gesture. I’m guessing yours is a family that goes all out for the holidays?” Hers hadn’t since her dad walked out.

He trailed his fingertips down her cheek. “You have no idea how much we love Christmas. It tends to bring out the kid in each of us. Everyone meets at my place for cookies and hot chocolate before we head off to the nursing homes. Wendy Anne has a keyboard we take along.”

“Wow. You do go all out.” Would Wolf be a powerful singer or produce a flat tone? She’d love to go along just to hear him.

“The girls have already put together little presents for the senior citizens. Lotions, bath gels, stockings.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Stuff like that. I throw in books. Romances for the women, books set during World War II or the Vietnam War for the men.”

She hadn’t expected this side of him and it surprised her. “Why would you include me in your family tradition? I’ll feel as if I’m intruding.”

“No. The more, the merrier. Some of the guys from the station are also going along. They bought puzzles to add to the presents we’ll hand out.”

“I could make cookies and candies. I love to cook, but rarely do it just for me.”

“Sounds good. Come over at six on Wednesday. It’ll be an early evening since the old folks tend to go to bed earlier than most.” He stepped closer and took her hand in his. “Maybe we could go out for a late dinner. I’ll make reservations for the two of us somewhere.”

Singing Christmas carols and handing out gifts as part of a group was one thing, but dinner alone with him was more personal. She had to keep her distance. With one heated kiss, he’d melted a layer of the glacier encasing her heart. A handsome, sexy, self-assured man could do great damage. She had to deflect Wolf’s allure by refusing his offer. What better way to repel him than reminding him what she was? “You’d take a lowly reporter out to dinner?”

He slipped his hands into the back pockets of his black jeans and stepped backwards. “A reporter. Yeah, I’d forgotten.” He snorted a burst of laughter. “Hell, with my lips fused to yours earlier, I damn near forgot my name. I never lose control with a woman like that.” His gaze shifted to the street for a few seconds, and he murmured something she couldn’t distinguish. His posture and the set of his broad shoulders spoke of sadness. Oh, girl, get a grip. Just like all men, he’s a heartache with a capital H.

“Good night, Wolf.”

His dark eyes with their predatory gaze landed on her, and for an instant, they almost caressed her before emotion shuttered them. “I’m attracted to you. I won’t deny it.” He huffed an audible sigh and ran a hand through his hair. “I also don’t like or trust reporters. Dammit, why did you have to be one?” He executed a half-hearted salute and walked away. “Good night, reporter lady.”

A dose of melancholy misted her eyes and she willed the tears away. Why would she care if the man never approached her again? Or kissed her? She turned and leaned her forehead against the front door, sighing. Something about the feelings he stirred in her scared her. The man certainly knew how to hijack a kiss. For a minute he had her femininity flying high—and she feared the crash landing the ride would surely bring.

****

Salt spray moistened Wolf’s face as the rubber inflatable craft sped along the causeway. He welcomed the familiar exhilaration, the adrenaline rush. Dressed in scuba gear, his gaze swept over his highly trained four-man Marine Rescue Unit as they expertly prepared for their rescue attempt. When the call came into the station from a stranded boat near Memorial Causeway Bridge, his team was underway in less than five minutes.