Her Firefighter SEAL by Anne Marsh

maybe.
    “Take this off.” She tugged at the butt-ugly pink loaner towel. He covered her hand with his, feeling the stupid-ass grin stretching his face. Happy wasn’t sex god territory , but she made him smile, and he’d had enough shit days recently to value that.
    “I’m thinking we could trade,” she continued, licking his nipple. Hot sensation burned through him. Her negotiating skills were definitely better than his. “You lose yours, and I’ll lose mine.”
    “Somebody thinks life is fair.” Christ, they both knew that wasn’t true, even if it wasn’t bedroom material. While he tried to not get stuck in his head, she tugged determinedly at the waistband of his towel until the cotton slithered free.
    “I win,” she announced cheerfully and stood up. Apparently he did too, because she shimmied out of her flannel shirt and then reached for the hem of her tank top. Her tank top was a soft coral, because apparently pink was her favorite color. Towels, clothes—hell, he was almost willing to bet that when they actually managed to get between the sheets she’d have pink ones. Even better, she’d skipped the bra so she was completely naked from the waist up when she yanked the shirt over her head.
    Her breasts were spectacular. Soft and full, the nipples large and a dark pink like she’d ordered up the color to match her favorite. He could just see the soft curve of her pregnant tummy above the waistband of her shorts. Yeah. He definitely felt like a winner. She was beautiful, half naked, and making promises to be his for tonight.
    “You got any idea how gorgeous you are?” His voice sounded gruff to his own ears, and he was no poet, but her face lit up.
    She cupped her breasts, stroking her thumbs over the undercurve and grinned at him. “I could say the same thing about you.”
    “Don’t let me stop you. We can compliment each other all night.”
    Her eyes darkened. “Or we could do something else.”
    He wasn’t sure when he’d lost control of the evening, but somehow he was the one lying naked on the bed like a virgin while she was shucking her clothes and giving orders. She made a pretty sight though. She shimmied, working her shorts and panties down her legs. He caught a quick flash of something bright blue and lacy. Abbie loved her colors. The blue was vibrant and alive, a punch of color kind of like the woman herself. It made him wonder what paint she would have chosen if she’d been left alone in Home Depot.
    “Come here.” He didn’t wait for her to make the move, lifting her onto the bed and over him.
    She grinned. “I hear a vote for cowgirl style.”
    He settled his hands at her hips, sucking in a breath as he aligned her good parts with his. Sweet Jesus. She was slick and hot, and he could slide in so, so easily. He could wait. “I want to do whatever makes you happiest. And”—honesty was a virtue, right?—“whatever makes you scream.”
    “Works for me.” She wriggled backward a few inches, reached down, and wrapped her hands around his erection. His dick liked the move, his breath hissing out between his teeth. Other parts of him were still on the gentleman train, however, and her touch made this all about him. That wasn’t how he wanted tonight to go, because exploring her lush body topped his agenda.
    “Slow down, cowgirl.” He slid a hand around the back of her neck, tugging her down. He wasn’t rushing this, and not just because she was pregnant and that was a first for him. He’d been thinking all day about getting inside her, about the feel of her mouth and her sweet, slick pussy squeezing him. Tonight played out on slo-mo rather than fast-forward if he got his way.
    She rocked against him. “Having second thoughts?”
    Not a chance.
    “Does this feel like hesitation?” He pushed up against her, his dick sliding through her wet folds.
    “Do that again.” She licked her bottom lip, and he groaned.
    “You definitely want to kill me.”
    “Only with