A Cowboy Firefighter for Christmas (Smokin’ Hot Cowboys #1)

“I like to swing, too.” And her wayward thoughts led her down the path to a naked Trey pleasuring her as the swing swayed and squeaked to his lusty thrusts. Oh my. If he knew her thoughts, he’d definitely think his Christmas angel was naughty, not nice.

He picked up her hand and cradled it in his bigger, stronger one. He stroked back and forth across her palm with his rough thumb. “I want to make sure you’re okay before I leave.”

“I’m fine.” She shivered at his touch, despite the way he made her temperature rise.

“For now. But when I’m gone?”

“I’ll still be fine.”

“Maybe I won’t.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

He raised her hand to his lips. He pressed a soft kiss to her palm before he traced a pattern across her soft flesh with his tongue.

She caught her breath at the tingling burn his touch created in her. How could one man make her feel so intensely needy with so little effort? Her clothes were cool and damp, but heat blossomed and blazed in the deepest, most sensitive part of her.

“I want you to think about me tonight when you’re in bed.”

“No. I’ll be asleep.”

He pressed a kiss to each of her fingertips. “Even if you know I’ll be thinking of you?”

“No. You’ll be asleep, too, after a day like today, putting out fires, doing ranch chores.”

He kissed the pulse point of her wrist. “Are you calling me a fibber or should I question your truth?”

She knew her fast heart rate was giving her away. She snatched back her hand and leaped to her feet.

He lazily stood up. “Seriously, I’m concerned about you. You might wake up with something worrying at you, something you need, another panic attack.”

“I told you I won’t.”

“I’m going out to my truck to get my phone. When I get back, let’s program your number into my cell.” He grinned at her before he walked to the sliding doors.

She didn’t know how he’d done it, but he’d made getting her phone number sound like a sensual act. Maybe he had phone sex on his mind. Maybe he thought they could share selfies. She abruptly stopped those thoughts before she went farther down that dangerous path.

He slid open the door, then stepped back. “Wait right here. I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

“And if I refuse?” She decided to put up some resistance to his dominant stance for her own moral rectitude, if nothing else. “I hardly know you.”

“I aim to change that.” He grinned again, revealing strong, white teeth. “After all, I’m your personal paramedic. Doctor’s orders.”

When he stepped outside and shut the doors behind him, she watched his long legs eat up the ground. His silhouette was familiar to her already and every bit of it was easy on the eyes. Did he really expect her to obey him? He acted like they were already a done deal. She felt a little frisson of excitement. Maybe it’d depend on the deal. Or was he just a flirt who felt some concern about her health? She was the one who’d let her thoughts stray, or stampede, down a forbidden path.

She wrenched her mind back to business. He was the insider here. She was the outsider. He was a firefighter, so he knew about fires in the area. She couldn’t access those records or that knowledge without sending up red flags about her true intentions.

Bottom line, she needed his information. Worse, she wanted him. Even more dangerous, he appeared to know it and was more than ready to let on that he wanted her.

She flipped her hair back from her face in the universal action of a determined woman. She was a professional troubleshooter. She could certainly give her phone number to a cowboy firefighter and not lose any sleep over it.

And before she had a chance to ponder him any longer, he was back. He must have jogged to and from his truck because he was suddenly sliding the door open, striding to her side, and holding out his phone.

“I’d take it kindly if you’d program your number into my phone,” he said in a low, melodic voice.

She didn’t know quite how he did it, but just the sound of his voice put her in mind of big, soft beds and long, hot nights. She took his phone, quickly tapped in her number, and handed it back, being careful not to touch the heat of his hand.

“Thanks.” He leaned down, pressed a quick kiss to her lips, then turned and strode to the open door. He glanced back. “See you tomorrow.” And he was gone into the night.

She stood there a moment, feeling the heat of his kiss linger on her lips, and then shook her head. She was not going to moon over a man. She had a job to do.

She checked to make sure the door was locked before she went inside, up the stairs, and to her suite. She heard her cell chirping inside. She quickly unlocked the door and stepped inside.

She grabbed her phone. “Hello.”

“Now you’ve got my number, too,” Trey said. “Sweet dreams.”

And then she was alone with her phone, his number, and the prospect of extremely sweet dreams.





Chapter 11


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