Free Playing with Fire by Mia Dymond Page A

be all night. Can you behave?”
    His eyes darkened. “I’m so exhausted, I can’t
see straight.”
    While he walked to the front door and checked
the locks, she gave good sense one more chance to stop her. Yet as
he turned, she read the despair in his eyes and she couldn’t
refuse.
    “Come on then,” she said, leading the way to
the bedroom. “Toss me something to sleep in and I’ll stay.”
    He gave her a weak smile. “I’m crazy,
huh?”
    “No, just sleep deprived.”
    “I’m just so damn frustrated.”
    “We’ll get you through this, I promise. Even
Superman had kryptonite.”
    Once they were in the bedroom, he stepped
past her to the bureau and pulled out a t-shirt and a pair of sweat
pants. “Here, now you’re a regular PFD groupie. Bathroom’s through
there.”
    “Firemen have groupies?” she asked, closing
the bathroom door.
    He chuckled. “Yeah.”
    Liberty glanced into the mirror as she
undressed. You’re borrowing trouble . She paused. Maybe so.
And if he asked her to climb into bed beside him, she just might.
No, those nightmares wouldn’t have a chance with her there.
    She huffed at her giddiness as she unclasped
her hair and watched it tumble down her back. She glanced back in
the mirror. I look ready for more than bed . She released a
disgusted breath. He’s my patient. Good sense screamed at
her to listen, but her devilish libido kicked it in the teeth and
answered instead. Who cares ?
    She inhaled a deep breath as she pulled his
t-shirt over her head. Clean, masculine and inviting. The same,
familiar, needy ache throbbed between her legs, nudging her further
into the abyss. She stifled a groan.
    Anything but relaxed, she tried to fake it as
she stepped from the bathroom. Her thighs tightened and she still
didn’t trust herself not to accost him. She glanced at the bed.
Shane reclined there with his shoulders a yard wide and molded
bronze, braced against the pillow and his arms folded behind his
head. Bare skin glistened in the dim lamplight. His dark eyes
softened as she crossed the room.
    “I’ve never seen your hair down,” he
murmured.
    She tossed her head. “I usually pin it up.
It’s cooler that way.”
    “I like it down.”
    “Thank you.” She cleared her throat and beat
her libido into submission. “Are you settled?” She planted herself
in the chair beside the bed.
    “Liberty, you can’t sleep in that chair all
night.” He sighed. “Let me take you home.”
    She scanned the depths of his eyes. “Do you
want me to go?”
    “No.”
    Then scoot over . Liberty released a
hard breath. “You have a spare room?”
    “Yes, next to this one.”
    “I’ll move there after you’re asleep.”
    “Promise?”
    “Promise.”
    She flipped the lamp switch beside the bed,
casting the room in darkness. Resting her head against the back of
the chair, she listened for several long, lust-filled minutes to
the sound of his breathing. His magnificent, carved chest rose and
fell in a steady rhythm, moving that pesky sheet in the process.
Liberty squeezed her eyes closed and willed herself to think of
something other than how utterly naked he was underneath. How the
sheet would probably shift if he turned over.
    She rolled her head to one side and opened
her eyes. His breaths were now slow and even. She needed to run
while she could. Satisfied he was soundly asleep, she kissed two
fingers and touched them to his lips before tiptoeing out of the
room.
     
    My lungs are on fire. I think there’s a snag
in my hose. Am I close? Remember that game we used to play in the
swimming pool? Marco ... Marco ...
    You’re supposed to say Polo. C’mon Zach,
answer! We’ve got to get out of here. This fire is burning fast and
hot.
    Sonuvabitch!
    The floor is falling, piece by piece. We’ve
got to go! Something’s hanging from the staircase. Yellow. Maybe
Dylan hung a marker for us. No, I don’t think it’s a marker.
    Oh God, Zach ... Zach ... ZACH!
     
    Shane shot out of bed, gasping for