Page 78 of Fire Dancer
On the contrary. I needed an air conditioner.
And, wait. Who’d started that blaze in the fireplace? I caught a glimpse of it crackling, then frowned. The mystery occupied my mind for all of two seconds before more important thingstook over. Like how to strip Ingo naked without interrupting our momentum, for starters.
Another part of me relished every second. After years of terribly misguided celibacy, or so it seemed now, we were finally getting close.
Ingo switched from one side to the other, cupping my soft flesh with his hand. I wasn’t built big, but Ingo was a master at making maximum use of the resources at his disposal. And now that I was naked — convenient! — even more raw materials were available. Like my core, which he thoroughly explored with his free hand.
“Firefighters are supposed to extinguish fires, not start them,” I scolded between throaty sighs.
“Laying the blame on me, huh?” he mumbled without a hint of complaint.
I laughed. “What was that terrible line about firefighters?”
“Find ’em hot, leave ’em wet.”
His voice was all growly, and between that and the actual message…let’s just say he was making swift progress on the second part of that promise.
“Speaking of which…” I mumbled, guiding his head lower. And lower…
In no time, he was knocking at heaven’s door — or rather, circling, probing, licking. At that point, I had one leg slung over his shoulder, and it was only by dint of that support pole that I remained upright. Ingo gradually guided my leg outward, opening the pearly gates, so to speak.
I knew I wasn’t in heaven. But it sure felt like it.
I ground against him, making enough noise for the soundtrack of a dirty movie — the director’s cut. Then I shook, shuddered, and came with a howl.
Everything went hazy for a while. Eventually, I found myself comfortably propped between Ingo and the support pole. Or thesupport pole and Ingo. It was hard to tell one from the other until I reached around, identifying Ingo’s contours, right down to his…er, personal support pole.
I gripped it, congratulating the instincts that had guided me there.
“What are you smiling about now?” Ingo chided.
I shook my head. “Inside joke, sorry. Another dirty one.”
He laughed, then went serious and kissed me.
“Mm,” I mumbled, swirling my tongue.
His body stiffened, and his kiss went harder and deeper, stoking my inner fire all over again.
Chapter Nineteen
INGO
Over the years, I’d entertained many hot dreams, all starring Pippa. A survival method, you might say, since I couldn’t have the real thing, and other women aroused nothing in me.
It still felt like a dream, even though I knew it was real.
All too real, I realized, thinking of the tragic events that had brought us here.
But I hadn’t been kidding about the need to stop, rest, and reevaluate. And step three — reevaluate — wouldn’t swing around until morning. Until then, I intended to do a hell of a lot of resting. Resting my mind, at least.
“That way,” Pippa murmured, breaking out of our kiss.
She pointed toward the bedroom section of the barn, then cupped my jeans, making it hard to move, even if I wanted to.
Yes, Pippa had always been a woman of contradictions.
My eyes slid half shut. And, whew. Now I knew why Pippa found that roof post so handy. I gripped it, barely keeping my balance as Pippa worked me over. The post helped when she pushed my jeans down too, trapping me in the denim while she had her wicked way with me.