Mr. February by Ann Roth

slowly pulled her V-neck shirt over her head. Earlier, she’d showered and changed into her best bra, a violet, lacy demi that pushed her breasts together and gave her some cleavage.
    Rafe’s eyes went dark and hot, which she’d anticipated. “Shall I leave this on, or take it off?” she asked in her best seductive voice.
    “Take it off.”
    She reached behind her to do just that, but Rafe stopped her. “Let me.”
    Moving in back of her, he made quick work of the clasp. For a man with such large hands, he certainly was skilled at unfastening the itty-bitty hooks.
    But then, he’d had plenty of practice with multiple women.
    Not about to dwell on that now, Jillian pushed the thought from her mind.
    “I think I’ll get rid of my shirt, too,” he said, still at her back.
    She heard the rustle then the shirt sailed past her and dropped to the carpet. He pulled her against his hard chest, held her close and from behind, cupped her breasts.
    At last. Pleasure rippled through her, and she stopped thinking, period.
    Soon, desperate to kiss him, she pivoted in his arms. On her knees, she brushed her hands through the smattering of soft hair on his chest. Flicked her tongue over his nipples.
    Groaning, Rafe lifted her onto his lap and kissed her savagely. Deep, tongue-jousting kisses she wanted never to end.
    After some time, or maybe only a minute—she wasn’t sure—he broke contact. “If we’re going to make it to my bed, and that’s where I want to make love with you, we need to go upstairs.”
    Not minding at all that he’d taken charge, Jillian nodded.
    “Take off your boots and socks then wrap your legs around me,” he directed.
    As soon as she did, he cupped her behind, pushed to his feet as if she weighed nothing, and carried her easily toward the stairs.
    They didn’t get far before he paused to kiss her. Dizzy with desire and love—no, she was not falling for him—Jillian shifted restlessly in his arms.
    “Patience,” he growled against her lips.
    “I’m running out of that.”
    Rafe continued up the stairs with no more stops. On the second floor, he strode forward at a rapid clip, straight into the bedroom. Jillian caught a glimpse of gray carpeting, heavy curtains pulled for privacy, and a dark-wood headboard.
    He set her down. Watching each other, they unzipped their jeans and shed the rest of their clothing. Then naked, they stood facing each other.
    Rafe was well-endowed and aroused, glorious to look at.
    “You are so beautiful.” His scorching gaze roved over her, igniting her everywhere. “Come here.”
    He wrapped her in his arms and simply held her. At first she thought she was the one trembling. But, no. “You’re shaking,” she said.
    “Because I want you so much.” Taking her hand, he led her to his bed.
    The covers were already turned back in welcome. He pulled her down with him onto satiny sheets. His mouth and hands went everywhere, stroking, licking, consuming….
    On fire, she climaxed. Not once but twice before he allowed her to touch him.
    Jillian pushed him onto his back and slowly ran her hands down his gorgeous abs, his flat belly. As she moved lower, Rafe hissed in a breath. She circled his rigid length and explored, marveling over the taut, velvety skin.
    Moaning, he raised his hips and pushed into her hand. When she tried to put her mouth on him, he stopped her. “I’m on the edge here,” he warned. “When I lose control, it will be inside you.”
    Jillian was ready. “Where do you keep the condoms?”
    “In the bedside table drawer.”
    He started to sit up, but she shook her head. “Stay where you are.”
    She found the foil packets. There were at least a half dozen.
    She couldn’t help wondering about the women he’d brought here before her and those who would take her place later. But thinking about that hurt, and she made herself stop.
    Rafe tore the condom open and sheathed himself. He reached for her.
    “Uh-uh. On your back again, firefighter,” she