Finding Fire Read Online Free PDF

willing the phone to
ring and trying to ignore its impertinent silence. At eleven, she
gave up and crawled into bed.
    Her inner clock told her she'd been asleep
for several hours when she heard the front door open. Eyes closed,
she listened to Randy's familiar routine—hanging up his keys and
shoulder holster, pulling off his shoes. The sound of the
refrigerator door opening and closing. He never played the piano
this late, but he might listen to the stereo. No, the bedroom door
opened. She heard him in the bathroom, then enter the bedroom, and
scrape of the nightstand drawer opening as he placed his gun
inside. A sharp intake of breath and a suppressed groan snapped her
eyes open. She reached for the bedside lamp and switched it on. His
left eye was swollen, and there were bruises forming on his
torso.
    "Randy! What happened? Are you all
right?"
    He pulled on his boxers, but not before she
noticed he was fully aroused. He was breathing heavily now, and he
lowered himself to the bed without answering.
    "Randy. I'm serious. You're hurt. Tell
me."
    "I can't."
    She sat up and stared at him. "Yes, you can.
You can't keep running away from me. I know you're not used to
having someone around, but I'm here, and you're not getting rid of
me. Talk to me."
    "Nothing to say." His voice was rough. "The
creep resisted arrest. He took a little convincing, that's all. Go
back to sleep."
    She reached over and stroked his cheek. "Let
me in, Randy. Please. Whatever happened, you shouldn't have to be
alone."
    "I can't. Not now."
    Sarah didn't need to know the details yet.
For now, she could offer physical release. She encircled his
erection, and he gripped her wrist. "No," he whispered.
    "No? But—"
    "I want you so much it hurts," he said. "But
I don't think… I can't. It's the adrenaline. I'm afraid of…afraid
I'll hurt you."
    "My God, Randy. I'm not going to break." She
leaned into him and pressed her lips against his, forced his lips
apart, probed with her tongue. His tongue met hers, and his kisses
went from gentle passion to wild frenzy. She reached for his
shorts, and he lifted his hips enough to allow her to pull them
away. Even as he kicked them off, his hands found her breasts under
the T-shirt. His touch triggered a surge of excitement, and she
helped him pull the shirt over her head. He covered her body with
his. He kissed, he stroked, he squeezed, as if he needed to touch
every part of her at once. He nipped at her breasts, and she
gasped, but the pain merely heightened her arousal. She met his
needs, matched his desire, raking her fingernails along his back,
tugging at his hair, scraping her teeth on his neck. She couldn't
tell if the guttural sounds came from her throat or his.
    Sarah opened herself to him and he entered
in a single, powerful thrust. Tonight's lovemaking was feral in its
lust. Yet she understood, and took him deeper and deeper until he
screamed as he reached his fulfillment. He collapsed on top of her,
shuddering. She held him and bore his weight as he gasped for
breath.
    He withdrew slowly, and rolled onto his
back, still panting. Snuggling next to him, she rested her head on
his chest, listened to the pounding of his heart. She ran her
fingers through the silky hair on his sweat-filmed belly. "You
feeling better?"
    With a groan, he pulled
away and went into the bathroom. When she heard the shower running,
Sarah flung herself out of bed. Not this
time, buster. He wasn't running away
again. She crept into the bathroom and saw Randy, arms extended
against the shower tiles as the hot water poured over his head and
cascaded down his body. Opening the glass door, she stepped into
the steamy enclosure and wrapped her arms around his waist. He
flinched, but didn't pull away.
    "I'm not leaving," she said.
    "Suit yourself, but it's going to get cold."
He lowered the water temperature until they were both covered in
gooseflesh, and she had to clench her teeth against their
chattering, but she wouldn't let go. His