I don't even get as far as cooking anything. I was going to offer Amy something good I could rustle up quickly, maybe pasta, but after we get inside and I kiss her, she starts to undo my shirt, making it clear she didn't come to my place for food.

  “I think I'd better check you over,” she says. “Make sure you didn't injure yourself from climbing that tree.”

  “Vicious things, trees.” But she doesn't get my shirt off before I distract her with another kiss, my lips brushing the lobe of her ear and the side of her neck. My hands cup her breasts. “I’d like to check you out first, though.”

  My thumbs flick across her nipples and they harden instantly to my touch right through her blouse and bra. “Good reflexes as usual, Miss Robinson.”

  She laughs and runs her fingers over the front of my jeans. “There’s nothing wrong with yours either.”

  “I just have to run a few more tests,” I say. “But not here.” I pick her up and carry her into the bedroom.

  “What tests?” she asks. She seems to love me talking dirty to her. I put her down on the bed and sit beside her.

  “I’m going to see what happens when I kiss you right here.” I run one finger between her legs beneath her skirt and she squirms at my touch.

  “Just a kiss?” she says.

  “A kiss is only one of many tests.” I start to warm to the theme. “Unbutton your blouse. How can I see what’s going on if you’re all covered up like that?”

  She complies, looking me in the eye, her cheeks flushed pink.

  “This has to come right off too.” I unfasten her bra, pull it off and her breasts spring free. “Just as I suspected. Fucking beautiful and already hard.” I run my finger over one puffy, engorged nipple. “What’s going to happen when I take one of these into my warm mouth and lick it, suck it, bite it? Is it going to make you moan?”

  Her breath quickens at my words.

  “Up you get. Take off your skirt.” This is the first time I’ve tried to dominate her, but I have a feeling she’ll respond well to that.

  Her eyes are wide, but she gets off the bed and unzips her skirt, leaving it in a pool at her feet. Her chest is heaving, causing her breasts to bounce slightly. I let out a growl of pleasure at the sight.

  “After I yank down your panties, I’m going to test you with my fingers, taste you. I need to work out how wet you already are so I can see what makes you hotter, wetter, what makes you open your legs and beg to be fucked.”

  “You already have a good idea of that,” she says, giggling, kneeling back on the bed beside me, her naked breasts jiggling even closer. I stick out my tongue and lick one tempting nipple.

  “I have lots of good ideas. And they all center around you naked and squirming on my bed, my mouth on your pussy, licking, sucking, so you can’t keep still, each stroke of my tongue making you dizzy with excitement. Maybe I need to make sure you don’t roll off the bed and injure yourself.”

  “You can’t be too careful.” She looks at me, a challenge in her eyes.

  “Right then.” I open a drawer in my dresser and grab a couple of neckties.

  When I return, she runs her fingers over my cock. “The idea of tying me up is making you hard.”

  “The thought of doing anything with you makes me hard,” I say. “But yes, I like the idea of you spread out naked on my bed so you can’t escape, your hands tied together and you begging for mercy as I lap at your folds and enter you hard and deep with my tongue, with my cock.”

  She bites her lip at that and instantly holds out her hands ready to be bound. I wrap a tie around them and gently pull her arms over her head, laying her back on the bed. I missed a trick when I bought this bed with no posts. “Put your arms up above your head and keep them there or I’ll have to spank you again,” I tell her.

  She gasps and holds onto the pillow with her fingers. I get between her thighs, opening them wide to my gaze. “I can see you’re soaking wet already. Maybe I don’t have to test you.”

  “I think you had better test me anyway,” she says, demurely. “Looks can be deceiving.”

  “Can they now?” I run my fingers over her slit and she sucks in a breath. “Not in this case. But I’d better check you out with my tongue just to be sure.”

  I flick the tip of my tongue over her clit and she just about convulses right then. “Sensitive area?” I ask, my face the picture of innocence. “Maybe you need a break from the tests.”

  “No, no break,” she says and reaches out with her bound hands to guide my head back down, arching her hips toward my mouth.

  “You moved your hands,” I say. “Did you do that deliberately?”

  She looks up and grins. “I might have.”

  “Right then. Kneel for me.”

  She gets up onto her knees, and I guide her hands and body back onto the pillow so she’s presenting her ass to me.

  “This is what happens to a naughty, wet girl like you, who moves her hands when she’s told not to,” I say. “I love how you’re all prim and proper, butter-wouldn’t-dare-melt-in-your-mouth on the outside, but filthy, dirty when you take off your clothes, demanding more.” She moans into the pillow and her hips do little grinding movements in anticipation of what’s going to happen.

  “You want it harder than last time?” I ask.

  “Yes,” she says.

  “Tell me to stop if it’s too much.”

  She wriggles and writhes as she feels the sting of my hand on her bottom, but she keeps her body raised, panting at each blow. Maybe I’m imagining it, but it feels like she’s raising her ass to meet my hand, not shrinking away from it.

  She yelps as my hand comes down hard ten or eleven times on her behind, and my palm is stinging so I know she must be feeling the burn too.

  I slip my hand between her legs, caressing her wet folds, taking her closer to release and she moans, her breasts shaking. After another few stinging blows, she hasn’t asked me to stop, but I can’t wait. I undo my pants and let out my tortured cock, nudging it along her slit, letting her know my intent.

  “Yes,” she says. “Fuck me, fuck me now. But spank me too.”

  I smack her ass and grab the sides of her sore butt to thrust in hard. There are growling sounds coming from my throat, primal and raw, as she squeals beneath me, lifting her hips, our bodies joining, flesh against flesh.

  Then, it’s as if I’m the king of the jungle, rutting into her from behind, and I go in deep, feeling the velvet of her tight, wet channel against my cock, a red haze of lust taking over my brain. I pound into her hard and fast. It’s all I know at this moment, this need to be as deep inside her as I can get. To never let her go.

  She mewls in pain and pleasure, urging me on as I plunge into her relentlessly and spank her again and again. I don’t stop until she calls out she’s coming and I can’t take any more and flood her with liquid heat, feeling the answering grip and release of her inner muscles as she shudders and comes beneath me and collapses onto the bed gripping the pillow with her bound hands.

  I untie her and hold her in my arms, caressing her hot skin, soothing the sting as she calms down, her body relaxed, languid, sated against mine.

  “Mmmh. That was intense,” she says.

  “Not too intense?”

  “No. It’s like a rush—every nerve ending in that whole area comes alive. And now it’s still stinging, but it makes me remember how good that was.”

  “We’re good together, you and me. I'm sorry for everything that happened.”

  “I’m sorry too.”

  “I didn't mean to get angry with you at the beach.”

  “I shouldn’t have interfered,” she says. “I just couldn’t help it.” She kisses my chest as I continue to run my hands over her hot flesh, taking away the hurt.

  “It was always tough thinking about my mother, never mind talking about her. The old wounds are the worst. But I’m pleased you nudged me in the right direction.”

  “I hated to see you not talking when there was no real reason for it.”

  “I can see that now. Thanks to you and the straight talking from your neighbor, I’m not thinking badly about my mother anymore, the first time for years.” I smile at Amy but then I remember. “Jeez, Amy. Please, don't go to New Zealand for good. Go on a trip, travel the world, but please don't give up your job and go for years. I'm afraid you'll never come back. I just found you. I don't want to lose you.”

  She looks at me. “You sound like you really mean that.”

  “That's because I do.”

  I hold her and kiss her hair and she folds herself into me. I love the way her soft body molds to mine. She doesn’t say anything for a while. I almost hear her thinking. I force myself not to fill the silence with words that might not help.

  “Maybe you should show me again how much you want me to stay,” she says, looking up at me, kissing me.

  And that’s exactly what I do.

  *

  Later, much later when we are lying quietly in each other's arms again, and I'm stroking her hair, her back, she says, “About New Zealand.”

  My hands stop moving over her. I dread what she might say. “What?”

  “I haven't signed the visa application yet.”

  “Are you going to?”

  “I don't think I want to go for so long. I love my life here. I'd like to visit, but I don't want to stay for good.”

  “Oh, Amy, I'll take you whenever and wherever you want to go.”

  “That sounds good. But for now, I'd like us to stay exactly where we are.”

  EPILOGUE

  Amy

  After six months with Ronan, six months of being happy, six months when I'm so very glad I waited and had my first time with him, we go to New Zealand. Everything about the country is beautiful. But one day it becomes even better.

  We are wandering along the banks of clear blue Lake Wakatipu looking onto a snow-capped mountain range.

  “Is New Zealand everything you expected?” Ronan asks me.

  “Yes, I love it. But it's so much better because I'm seeing it with you.”

  His lips are soft and teasing against mine. It's the perfect backdrop for a kiss with the man who means the world to me. There’s not a soul around.

  “It's a shame we have to go home. Maybe I should stay here after all, and you can visit now and again,” I tease. He knows I'd never do that now.

  “We can come back if you want. We'll need somewhere to go.”

  “We will?” This visit already cost a fortune. It was Ronan's birthday present to me.

  “We’ll need somewhere to go because it's traditional to take a trip after a wedding. I believe they call it a honeymoon.”

  It takes me a few seconds to realize what he said. “You mean….” Does he mean what I think he means?

  “Yes, I want to marry you, Amy. Will you marry me?”

  “Oh yes, yes, yes. Of course I'll marry you.” I launch myself into his arms, almost sending him into the lake, but he catches me, regains his balance, and we both stay on dry land. I kiss him again. “You know I really love New Zealand. But I love you more,” I say.

  “There was a time when I hated the whole country,” he says. “But it's quickly turning into my favorite place.”

  Ronan

  It's two days before our wedding. My mother will play a special part in our day, alongside Amy's dad and her stepmother, Grace. It’s wonderful to have my mother back in our lives again.

  I asked Amy, a couple of months ago, “You don't mind the way my mother wants to help with all the arrangements?”

  “Oh no, I'm not sure what I'd do without her. You know how busy I am at the hospital. She and Grace have been great, and they’ve enjoyed doing stuff together. I think they'll go on being friends.”

  I wanted Amy to have the wedding of her dreams, but she decided on a simple ceremony. She said if she had a nice dress, beautiful flowers and a celebration with our close family and friends, she'd be happy.

  We are getting married in her local church and inviting the people we love for a champagne lunch, and then we’ll return to New Zealand because there’s still so much to see there. I can't wait to go back there with Amy as my wife.

  My friend, Tom, thinks it’s funny that I changed my mind about marriage so quickly, but I don’t. After I met Amy, there was no way I could look at anyone else. Love changes everything.

  I met Amy’s friend, Sandra, soon after Amy decided she wasn't going to New Zealand after all. Sandra says she can’t help liking me, seeing as I helped persuade her friend to stay in England, and I love how much she cares for Amy.

  Sandra and Tom met for the first time at our engagement party, and now they’re going strong too. Sandra will be Amy's maid of honor, and Tom will be my best man.

  And of course, Mrs. Jenkins will be at our wedding, one of the first we added to the guest list. After all, if she hadn't made that call about her cat, Amy and I might never have met, and she helped us get back together again when it counted.

  *

  “This is our last night of living in sin,” Amy jokes, as we sit on the couch drinking brandy on ice, something we enjoy after dinner on special occasions, and I thought tonight called for it. “I can't see you tomorrow night, it's unlucky, so we'd better make the most of it.”

  “In that case, there’s not a moment to waste.” I pull her into my arms and kiss her like she's meant to be kissed—slow and deep and thoroughly, so she knows how much I love her. As usual, those kisses turn into so much more. We end up naked, hot and, somehow, rolling off the couch and lying on the rug, panting in each other’s arms.

  “I like last-night sinning with you,” she says. “Let’s make sure sex is still dirty when we’re married.”

  “I’ll never stop getting dirty with you. We should have made it part our vows.”

  “I expect that’s what they mean in the church ceremony when they say, ‘With my body I thee worship.’” She laughs.

  “Yeah, the vicar can’t say that in so many words, but that’s what he means.”

  “Now I’m afraid I’m going to giggle when he says it. Don’t look at me for that part.”

  “I won’t be able to help it. I love looking at you. And every time I do, I want to worship you with my body. In fact, I think it’s time for more worshipping before I let you sleep.”

  “I’m not sure I can move after the last lot of worshipping.”

  “This might help.” I grab hold of a glass from the coffee table and tip a few drops of the ice-cold brandy onto her so it runs between her breasts and down onto her stomach. She gasps as I trace the path of the drops with my tongue and lick it up. “Shame to waste good brandy,” I say, my tongue continuing in a path to her core despite there being no trace of brandy left.

  “Total shame.”

  “Maybe this part could do with waking up.” I nudge the hard button of her clit with my tongue. She closes her eyes and raises her hips to my mouth and I want nothing else but to please her, my wife-to-be, the love of my life.

  I grab a sliver of ice left in the glass and holding it between my lips, I flick the thin icy edge back and forth over her hard nub making her squirm and cry out over and over. I watch her in delight, breathing in the heady scent of her, teasing her relentlessly with the ice until she shudders and comes, spreading her thighs wide open and calling my name.

  I was Amy’s first and I hope I’ll be her only one ever. But she’s a first for me too—the first love of my life, my first thought in the morning and the first one I call when I get out of a fire. As I lift her up and carry her to the bedroom, I know our life together will be filled will all kinds of firsts, and I can’t wait for my future with Amy. But for now, I’m just going to enjoy the moment, holding her close and falling asleep with her in my arms.

  *****

  ALSO BY MIA

  See links below for more standalone stories in Mia’s Fireman Series—all scorching hot and steamy head-over-heels insta-romances with no cheating, a happy ever after and satisfaction of the dirtiest kind guaranteed. Fire extinguishers at the ready!

  Babysitter Wanted

  "Hot. Irresistible. Exciting. More man than I ever had in my life."

  Andrew: Fate takes my sister and her husband and suddenly, I'm a single dad to seven-month-old Lucy. I love her to bits but the little moppet didn't come with a manual. Luckily, my friend's daughter agrees to help out while I find a permanent nanny. Melissa flies into Heathrow like a breath of fresh air in my gloom. I wasn't supposed to fall for the sweet face and soft curves of the babysitter, but I did, hook, line, and sinker. When it's time for her to leave, how will I ever be able to let her go ...?

  Melissa: Six weeks babysitting, and then I'll have the time of my life in Paris, Amsterdam, and Rome. But I wasn't counting on dad's friend, Andrew, lighting a fire in me hotter than the blazes he puts out. Dad isn't happy, not happy at all … but the thought of Paris for one suddenly seems like the worst idea of all time. How can I enjoy Europe when I know how much I'll be leaving behind?

  My Filthy Fireman

  "I can't wait to taste you."

  Olivia - Being carried out of a burning building and yelled at by a fireman – could there be a worse end to a party? Except that the fireman doing the shouting is big, hard, and the sexiest guy ever to hold me in his arms. And when he appears not just in my dreams but right next door, there's no fighting it. He's older and much more experienced, but I have to make him mine -- even if I don't have a clue what I'm doing.

  Luke - I can't believe I moved in next door to the girl from the fire. She's young, beautiful and hot enough to melt the ice cap. With all the ways she tempts me, I don't realize how innocent she is until it's too late and I can't resist. But how can I keep her in my arms and my bed where she belongs when her parents keep trying to break us up?

  *

  Playing with Fire

  “You know what I do to dirty girls...”