Last Call by Olivia Brynn Page A

who’d attached himself to one of the cops in district three.
    He had barely paid his tab and walked outside before she pulled up to the curb.
    She leaned over the passenger seat as the window rolled down. “Are you the drunk that needs a lift?”
    She looked gorgeous. Her hair seemed to shine beneath the neon signs, and her smile lit up the interior of the car. Eric leaned into the window, reached into his pocket and pulled out the yellow pen.
    “Oh my.” She laughed. “I can’t believe it!” She took it from him and hugged it against her chest. “Thanks. My collection is complete.”
    He reached for the door but stopped short, his smile fading. “I don’t suppose your big brother is hiding behind a tree waiting for a reason to take another shot at me?”
    “Of course not. He’s the one who told me to quit moping and call you. I explained everything.”
    He got in and buckled up, then turned to stare at her.
    Her eyes were just as busy, and she smelled like that peachy soap from her shower. He ached to reach out to touch her but curled his hand into a fist to maintain focus. “Look. I want to explain.”
    She held up a hand. “You don’t have to. I dialed the wrong number. It took me about twelve hours to realize that you could have left me at the Ranger. You had no obligation to a drunk stranger on the phone.” She reached over and took his hand. “But you came anyway.”
    “I swear, I didn’t plan on anything happening. I was just going to drop you off at home and drive away.”
    “I know. I was the one begging you to stay. And I’m responsible for everything that happened after that.”
    “I never actually lied—”
    “Thank you for that, Eric.”
    “—but I should have told you the truth.”
    “You told me your name.” She shrugged. “I still called you Joe.”
    He turned his hand over, threading his fingers through hers, so cool and soft compared to his. “I’ve always wanted a nickname.”
    She smiled, then let her gaze drop to his lap. “Where to, Joe?”
    Eric’s cock swelled. “You could tuck me in?”
    With a naughty grin, she put the car in reverse.
     
     
    Eric threw her panties aside, and they landed on the rest of their discarded clothing on the floor of his bedroom. His eyes busily studied every move of her body as she stretched atop his sheets.
    “Fucking beautiful.”
    She twirled one finger around her navel, moving sensuously to keep his attention. “I’ve been thinking about you a lot.”
    “You have?” He rolled on a condom before he moved between her legs and took over for her finger. “Good stuff, I hope.”
    “The extra-good stuff when I’m alone.” She pushed her fingers through his hair. “I spent one afternoon imagining how you must look in your uniform.” She bit her lip as that image again played through her mind. What woman wasn’t a sucker for a man in uniform? “Maybe all dressed in that firefighting outfit, whatever you call that…”
    “Turnout gear? That’s not sexy, it’s bulky as hell.” He inched lower.
    “You’re bulky as hell, but I still think you’re sexy.”
    “If you’re good, I’ll model them both for you.” His tongue dipped into her sex, and she arched against him.
    “I’ll be good.” She bit her lower lip as his warm mouth covered her, sucking and licking over each fold.
    “You taste good.”
    She tightened her fingers in his hair and leaned up to watch. “And you…ah…are good at tasting.” His dark head moved between her legs, both hands pinning her thighs to the bed, denting her skin. She panted his name, and when he looked up at her, she groaned with lust. Releasing his scalp, she cupped her breasts and took her nipples between her fingers.
    His moan rumbled through her sex, and he held her gaze while he drank her desire. He pushed two fingers inside her and twisted, fucking her with his hand and mouth. She sawed her legs against his shoulders, then wrapped them around his back, pinching his face between her