Free Four Weddings and a Fireman by Jennifer Bernard

boss. Holding his hot gaze, she put her fingers to her nipples.
    â€œSqueeze them,” he ordered, nearly choking.
    â€œVader,” she whispered helplessly. She’d lost all control of her reactions; her body quivered and jumped from need.
    â€œJust do it.”
    She squeezed. The searing arc of heat acted like the spark to a bomb. She absolutely detonated, her body arching with the force of her climax, sweet, drugging pleasure flooding her brain. He came too, deep spasms racking his magnificent body, his hands digging into her upper thighs.
    Finally he went still. “Sweet baby Jesus,” he gritted, eyes closed, his head thrown back, his strong throat muscles moving hypnotically. “What you do to me, Cherie.”
    She flung the back of her hand over her damp forehead, and uttered a helpless moan of a laugh.
    That made two of them.

 
    Chapter Six

    V ader was pretty sure the woman he’d just made fierce, passionate love to was muttering, “Crap, crap, crap,” under her breath.
    He eased her into a more comfortable position on her couch, then collapsed next to her. In the time that they’d been immersed in lovemaking, dusk had fallen. Ghostly blue shadows gathered in the corners of the room. He knew what was coming next. Instead of enjoying a blissful afterglow, and maybe sharing a pan of peanut butter brownies, as he’d prefer, Cherie was about to head straight for a massive dose of self-­recrimination.
    Right now, with everything going on in his life, he didn’t want to go through that cycle one more time.
    He cleared his throat and spoke before she could shift from “Crap, crap, crap” to something more specific. “Look, Cherie. We just had sex, and it was awesome, as always. Why don’t we just let it be? Let’s skip the part where you beat yourself up and make us both swear we’re never going to touch each other again.”
    She lifted her head, her mouth dropping open in a rosy oval of surprise. “Am I really that predictable?”
    Vader looked at her soberly. “If you were predictable, this would be easier. I know you, that’s all. Or at least certain parts of you.”
    Even though he hadn’t intended any kind of sexual innuendo, a flush gathered on the pillowy flesh of her chest and made its way up her throat. He wanted to follow it with his lips, but he restrained himself. “I’ll make a deal with you, Cherie. You know how you keep telling me you want to be friends?”
    â€œYes, and I realize my behavior hasn’t exactly backed me up, but . . .”
    â€œThat’s okay. I get it. I’m such a virile, handsome devil you can’t resist me.” He put up a hand before she could laugh too hard at his mocking self-­assessment. “No need to argue, we both know it’s true. Moving on. I’m willing to be your friend, on one condition.”
    She sat up, pulled a silky scarf off the arm of the couch, and gathered it around her shoulders. He’d never understood why she draped the scarves everywhere, but now, seeing the way the iridescent fabric shone against her skin, he was glad she did. “What condition?”
    â€œYou tell me the truth.”
    An odd sort of flinch rippled across her face, so quickly he wouldn’t have noticed if he didn’t know her so well. “What do you mean?”
    He had to steel himself for this next part. This was what he’d wrestled with late at night. “I want to know why you don’t want me.”
    And yes, it hurt just as much as he’d predicted to say those words out loud.
    â€œI want to know why you keep pushing me away. Even when things are going great. No, especially when things are going great. That’s when you always drop the hammer. It’s fucked up, Cherie. And before you say it”—­he put up another hand as she opened her mouth—­“I know you don’t mean to hurt me. I’m