Free How to Seduce a Fireman: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance by Vonnie Davis Page A

place again. “That’s exactly what I used to tell Louisa.” He crossed himself. “God bless her soul.” He hiked up his baggy khaki pants with the insides of his elbows tucked against his belt. “A man does
not
mess with perfection.” He hip-wiggled a couple foxtrot steps and passed some gas as he hummed some ancient tune.
    Cassie’s jaw dropped and her gaze ricocheted from Milt to Quinn. “Let’s state the facts correctly, shall we?” She planted her hands on her narrow hips and swayed her shoulders one at a time for some kind of goofy feminine emphasis. “Women like change. We have no fear of experimentation the way you men do.”
    “Fear?” Was she calling him a coward?
    “When was the last time you tried a new kind of food? Or a micro-brew beer?” She spun toward Milt. “When was the last time you wore navy blue pants? Every time I see you, you’re wearing khakis.” Turning her harangue back on Quinn, she pointed to his comfy Nikes. “You need new sneakers. You’ve been wearing those raggedy things for the three years I’ve known you.”
    She poked a fingernail through a hole in his beloved Puddle of Mudd t-shirt. Using some of his college expense money to buy a concert ticket to go hear them with a group of Harvard freshmen had been one of the highlights of his life. How great to be out from under the condemning, watchful eye of his father.
    “And this faded, tattered rag belongs in the trash bin!” One swift tug and the hole grew from the circumference of a dime to fist-size. “See? It’s like tissue paper!”
    Quinn couldn’t believe she’d torn his favorite shirt. Hell, the thing was barely ten years old. His gaze slowly swept from his ravaged, quality rock and roll wear to her green eyes, snapping with righteous indignation.
    “Women also like variation in our sexual positions while, according to ninety percent of my female customers, their men do it the same way over and over.”
    Something in him snapped. Control? Anger? The need to shut her up? Who the fuck knew? “You mouthy little brat.” He coiled his fingers around her bicep and charged them toward the building’s entrance. “Milt, we’re going to be a while.” He yanked the aqua door open so hard it banged against the front of the yellow stucco structure as he hauled her ass up the steps.

CHAPTER EIGHT
    “What the hell’s wrong with you?” Cassie jogged to keep up with Quinn’s furious movements.
    “I’m warning you. Shut. The hell. Up. I’ve had enough of your nonsense. We are
not
getting married. We are
not
having children. And I’m about to show you more ways to have sex than your stupid-ass, gossipy customers ever dreamed of.” He pushed his apartment door open and shoved her inside before kicking it shut. “You have an evil heart, Cassie Wolford. You may look like an angel, but deep inside you are one hellacious monster.”
    He pivoted to turn the lock and when he looked at her again, she grabbed the hem of the yellow cotton top she wore, jerked it over her head and tossed it aside. One flip-flop flew over his shoulder and he ducked. Furball, who’d come out to greet her, scampered for the kitchen and the safety of the empty cabinets. A flick of her other ankle and the second flip-flop landed on top of his boxed microwave.
    Cassie’s thumbs tucked into the elastic of her navy capris.
    “What the hell are you doing?”
    “Getting naked so we can have sex.” She shimmied out of the capris and twirled them on her index finger. “You’re falling behind, big guy.” Her head dipped in his direction. “Come on. Show me some skin.” She reached behind her to unhook her bra and stopped after it hit the floor. “Wait, you want me to undress you, don’t you? Cool. I can handle that.”
    What the fuck?
His cock voiced the same sentiment, throbbing the words in a sensual Morse code as the traitorous appendage filled with blood and lengthened. He shook his head. “No. Now Cassie, we are not doing this.” He