Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27288 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 136(@200wpm)___ 109(@250wpm)___ 91(@300wpm)
A pink flush colors her cheeks, and I bite my tongue to stifle a groan. I want to make her blush again, to turn her skin that pretty pink all over, to see every way that I can use my words to affect her like this.
Christ, Aidan, keep it in your pants. Be professional! You don’t even know her name.
Thankfully, the logical side of my brain has kicked back into gear, but unfortunately, the rest of me isn’t interested in listening.
I reach for the little scenario card, pausing before I read the words. I want to make this moment last before I have to figure out how the hell to be professional around a girl who makes me feel feral.
“I’m Aidan,” I say, introducing myself. I can argue that this is a good way to check her mental state for confusion or concussion, but really, I just want to know who she is.
“Aidan,” she repeats, my name sounding so damn good on her lips that I barely hide my shudder. I want her to say it again. I want her to whisper it, and scream it.
Professional, dude!
“You got a name, sweetheart?” I ask, lips curving back into a smile that I can’t wipe off my face in her presence. This is supposed to be a serious exercise, and here I am making conversation like she’s not supposed to be injured and in need of aid.
“Oh, uh, yes,” she stutters back, that flush intensifying. Her tongue darts out to wet her bottom lip. “Autumn. I’m Autumn.”
It suits her, I think as I force myself to focus on the information card. Broken legs after a fall through the floor of an unstable construction site, firefighters are the first to arrive, ambulance is on the way. I know the steps I’m supposed to take like I know the back of my hand. It’s a simple scenario by all means and yet I’m suddenly desperate to find ways to drag it out.
“Okay, Autumn. It says here the building site you got hurt in isn’t stable,” I tell her, trying and failing to keep the gravelly need out of my tone. I push on. “So I’m gonna have to get you out of here, okay?”
“Okay,” she breathes, her eyes wide and her throat bobs a little on her audible swallow. She’s looking at me like she’s as trapped in this made-up scenario as I am like she’s ready for me to save her.
“I’m gonna keep you safe,” I promise her, setting the card down and moving closer to prepare to move her. “Nothing else is gonna hurt you, okay, sweetheart?”
Autumn makes a choked sound that’s somewhere between an agreement of uh-huh and a whimper. If my mind hasn’t already put a claim on this girl for the sheer draw she has to me, my body just has. My cock perks up at her breathy noise, and I grit my teeth in an effort to act unaffected. Getting turned on by a volunteer during a training drill is beyond inappropriate. The knowledge does little to cool the inferno in my blood down.
Careful not to jostle her too much, I slide my arms under her and lift so that I’m cradling her gently against me, still on my knees. “Can you move your arms? Anywhere else hurt?” I ask, even though I know I don’t need to.
“Yes,” Autumn says, blinking up at me. “I mean, no. I mean…yes, I can move my arms. And no, nothing…nothing hurts.”
She’s so damn warm and soft in my arms, and I can’t help but wonder if her bare skin is just as silky as the thin material of her blouse.
“Good.” God, I feel trapped in the sparkling gaze of her blue eyes. A trap I’d happily spend years in. I don’t ever want to leave it. “That’s good. Don’t want you to be hurting.”
I force myself to look away, tucking Autumn closer to my chest as I rise to stand. Half of the team is already in the recovery area, going through the motions of “treating” their patients, which I’ll ask them questions about later back at the firehouse.
“Wrap your arms around me,” I tell Autumn, losing the battle against my own willpower. “Hold on so I don’t jostle you, alright?”
Autumn nods, the movement making her curls bounce around her angelic face. She wriggles a little in my grip, stretching up to wrap her arms around me. She clutches at me, her short nails running over the strip of skin above my collar. I grind my teeth because this simple contact sends a rush through me.
In a few long strides, I carry her over to the second area, finding a free section of the floor, padded with yet more mats, and lie her down. Though I’m reluctant to let go, I make myself do it, carrying out the required checks needed before the paramedics arrive.