Forever Strings (MFM)
Heat Rating: SEXTREME
Officer Ripley Paxton has been betrayed by love too many times, but solitary life has gotten lonely. When she meets Xander, she makes it clear she’s looking for a good time and no strings. Then she meets Flynn and finds herself having that good-time-no-strings fun with both men…until the strings start to form, a threat makes itself known, and the only place she can turn is into Xander and Flynn’s loving, protective arms.
Fire Captain Flynn Martelli has enough on his plate without adding a woman to the mix, but the sexy, vivacious Ripley is too irresistible to push aside. Firefighter Xander Wayland knows Ripley is the woman for him. The gorgeous vixen isn’t looking for long-term. Neither is he. His heart has different plans. When he discovers Ripley has been having fun with Flynn, too, he’s okay with that. So is Flynn. But neither man is okay with the threat that’s out to take her away from them forever.
Ripley took more than the minute she’d told him. She took more than the three required to run his license and plate through dispatch. She needed that time to get herself together. Holy mackerel! A speeder, or any other violator of the law, had never sent her body rocking or her mind on a fast train to get-it-on-ville the way Flynn Martelli did.
She consulted the information on his license. The birthday listed told her he was turning forty in two days. It told her he lived at 4628 Winding Mountain Lane. The plate on the back of his bike had told her he was a firefighter even before she’d run it through dispatch.
She toyed with the idea of not giving him a ticket. Both because he was simply too damn cute and because he was a firefighter. Winding Mountain Lane was in a fairly high-class neighborhood. The hundred and fifty the citation would cost him likely wouldn’t hurt his finances too badly. But the speed he’d been traveling on that motorcycle as he’d woven his way through the slower traffic keeping to the posted limit held the potential to hurt far more than his wallet.
Ripley scribbled the citation, gathered his paperwork, and headed back to his bike. His large hands were back on the handlebars, his forearms, biceps, and posture relaxed. His hair was jet black, his face handsome and chiseled, and she knew, even before he turned his gaze to hers, the effect those bright green eyes would have on her system.
“Here you go.” He straightened and took the items she held out for him. “I hope you aren’t late for your shift, firefighter.”
“It’s captain,” he corrected her as he shifted the items to one hand and opened his wallet with the other. His gaze dropped from hers as he replaced his license, registration, and proof of insurance in his wallet. He paused briefly when he got to the citation. Surprise followed by acceptance and a hint of amusement moved through his expression. “Thank you, officer…”
“Paxton,” Ripley supplied as she watched his attention drop to the bottom of the citation where she’d signed her name.
His gaze met hers and, wow, merely being the object of this man’s attention made her imagination soar. Ecstasy, hot and intoxicating, pumped off him in waves. She wondered if he realized it, if he somehow did it on purpose.
Her name rolled from his lips in a voice that was as hot and intoxicating as the rest of him. Everything about the man put her in mind of rumpled sheets and hot, sweaty sex.
“Enjoy the rest of your day, and stay safe out there, Captain Flynn Martelli,” she told him as she slowly started backing away.
The grin that unfolded on his lips as he turned his head to watch her over his broad shoulder made her step falter. It was a slow curve of a set of truly kissable lips that had arousal shooting through her like a harpoon. Her nipples beaded, cream soaked her panties, and she couldn’t look away.
“You, too, Officer Ripley Paxton.” He held her gaze for a long moment before he turned and started his bike.
Ripley whirled around and headed for her cruiser before she did something stupid like run after him, hop on the back of his bike, and demand he take them someplace they could fuck. What the hell was wrong with her? She’d just had sex, truly marvelous, rock-her-world sex, with an off the charts good-looking guy mere hours ago. She’d been doing her best not to fall asleep after a full night of mattress gymnastics with Xander Wayland last night when Flynn Martelli’s speeding motorcycle had set her radar beeping on the dash of her squad car.
She slid behind the wheel of her cruiser, alerted dispatch that she was back in service, and buried her face in her hands. “I am turning into a slut.”
She was turning into the worst kind of slut. A badge-bunny kind of slut. Flynn Martelli was a fire shift captain and, despite what she’d told Xander last night about his incapability to be a firefighter, she’d known that was exactly what he was. What were the chances Flynn and Xander worked the same shift at the same firehouse?
She consoled herself with the understanding that it didn’t matter. She would likely never see Flynn Martelli again, and, though she had agreed to see Xander tomorrow, what they had going was nothing but sex.
Sex you can’t wait to have again with a man you haven’t been able to get out of your head for more than a few minutes since he left your house this morning.
Damn it. The worse part of that whole thought was the realization that those few minutes she had managed to not think about Xander had been the time she’d just spent practically drooling over Flynn Martelli.