
Brave, bold, and dangerously sexy, firefighters are every
woman's fantasy. Meet three hot heroes who take scorching
desire to a whole new level...Executive Jade Rousseau needs
to find a fake fiance to parade around her company's social
events. When her friends bid on red-hot firefighter Quinn
O'Malley at a benefit auction, Jade bids higher. The man has
to be hers - and she can't wait to feel the passion... When
fashion designer Delta Ballantyne asks firefighter Evan
Marshall to model her sexy line of men's underwear, she
can't stop the sizzling fantasies running through her mind,
beginning with sophisticated foreplay...and ending with the
ultimate climax... Ever since Erica Donelson's ex-husband
left her, his former best buddy, firefighter Lincoln
Gabriel, has been there for her. But before long, their warm
friendship heats up to a burning lust that won't be
denied...
Excerpt [Jade Rousseau, the heroine,
needs a fake fiancé to impress her family values employer,
and
there’s nary a guy in her life right now. Her girlfriends
Kimberly
and Amarjeet persuade her to go to
the Raining Men bachelor auction, for charity. All the men
come out
on stage and Jade makes a list of her four top picks, all
nice conservative,
white-collar guys. Even though the one man who really turns
her on is
firefighter Quinn O’Malley. After all the men have taken
their turn,
it’s time to start the bidding. She’s enlisted her
girlfriends to
bid for her, because her boss’s wife is at the auction and
Jade can’t
let her see her “buying” a man she’s soon going to
introduce as
her fiancé.]
Cara, the red-dressed emcee,
took the stage. “Thanks again to all these wonderful,
handsome, amazing
bachelors who have participated in the auction. It’s easy
to give
a little money to charity, but these men have gone above
and beyond.
They’re giving their time – their brains and muscles and
charm –
for tonight’s valuable cause. And they don’t even get a tax
receipt!
So let’s show them all how much we appreciate it.”
The room exploded with cheers
and applause. “I’m so nervous,” I murmured to Amarjeet.
“Have faith. If it’s meant
to be, then it will happen.” Her pronouncement was
punctuated by a
hiccup.
Cara reintroduced Justin, my
first choice, and called for bids. The lights stayed on so
everyone
could see who was bidding. As the bids rose, I leaned past
Amarjeet
to whisper to Kimberly, “Shouldn’t you bid?”
“I think we should pass on
Justin and figure out how things work.”
It wasn’t like her to be
cautious. Had Amarjeet been talking strategy to her?
The bidding for Justin heated
up, rising to over five hundred dollars, then stopped with
a flashy
redhead. And then it was the next bachelor’s turn. We
watched until
the high school teacher, my next choice, came on stage.
After a couple
bids, I hissed at Kimberly, “Come on!”
“Right.” She placed a bid
and someone topped it. When I hissed again, she placed
another, of four
hundred dollars. A young brunette topped it, another bid
came in, then
the brunette topped that one. Amarjeet said, “Kimberly,
don’t bid
again. That woman’s determined. It’s not worth going high
enough
to win.”
“You’re right. Sorry, Jade,
this isn’t your guy.” Her giggle told me she, too, was
tipsy.
After another few bachelors,
it was the doctor. “Bid on this one,” I reminded Kimberly.
“Have you thought seriously
about his job?”
“He’s a family practitioner.
What’s not to like?”
“He spends a lot of time
peering up women’s vaginas,” Kimberly said, loudly enough
that we
both hushed her.
“It’s his job,” I said.
“But isn’t it kind of creepy?”
She gave an exaggerated grimace. “Wouldn’t you feel weird,
going
to bed with him after he’d spent his day doing that?”
Surely doctors viewed the female
bodies they saw at work in an objective, professional way.
And the female
body in their personal life in a completely different
manner. Didn’t
they?
“I heard a talk show the
other day,” Kimberly said, “where some doctors said they
couldn’t
do gynecology or general practice because the vagina thing
made them
uncomfortable.”
“Well, he’s obviously not
one of them.”
“No, but –”
“Moot point,” Amarjeet
said, sounding almost smug. “While you two were arguing,
someone else
bought him.”
“Damn.” I shifted anxiously
as the winner claimed a hug from the doctor. How could I
have lost out
on three men? “I’m down to just the civil rights lawyer.
Kimberley,
you have to win him.” He was an excellent candidate. Sure,
I hadn’t
felt enthusiastic when I’d seen him on stage, but that was
only because
the firefighter had me so fired up. Speaking of whom, he’d
been up
after the doctor . . .
And there was Quinn O’Malley,
strolling across the stage with his distinctive brand of
male confidence
and grace.
“I wonder what the woman
who wins him will make him do?” Amarjeet asked with a
wicked, slightly
drunken grin.
“Put out her fire?” Kimberly
joked, her voice too loud again. Three drinks were
obviously too much
for us when all we’d eaten were a few tiny appies.
The firefighter had left his
axe behind and stood easily, legs slightly apart, hands
clasped behind
his back. The posture emphasized his muscular chest and
shoulders. Easy
to imagine him hefting a woman in his arms, toting her out
of a burning
building and down one of those long, swaying ladders.
Placing her on
the ground, breathing air into her parched lungs as his
sexy lips caressed
hers. As, under his deft touch, her body came to life. To
aroused, passionate
life.
He glanced around the audience,
a half-smile on his lips, seeming unworried about who would
win him
and what she’d ask him to do. Vaguely I was aware of women
bidding,
of Amarjeet whispering to Kimberly, but the man on stage
was so fantasy-worthy
that I barely noticed until a new voice joined the bidding.
A voice
I recognized.
I dragged my eyes off Quinn
O’Malley to glare at Kimberly. “What are you doing?”
Amarjeet said, “You only
had one man left on your list, and he’s near the end. Women
will be
getting desperate, bids will be higher. You might not get
that lawyer.”
“But I don’t want this
guy.” I stared back at the stage. Quinn O’Malley was
watching us.
Our gazes connected and I felt a zap of energy. Sexual
energy.
Kimberly giggled. “That’s
not what your body language says. You’re leaning forward
like you
want to leap out of your seat and jump him.”
Quickly I sat back, breaking
that compelling eye connection, and tried to regain my
sanity. “My
body language is irrelevant.”
“He’s a hero. And he’s
hot,” Amarjeet said as Kimberly placed another bid.
“For sure! But I want someone
more conventional. White collar job, good looking but not
so –”
“Freaking gorgeous?” Kimberly
put in.
“Exactly.”
“Well, that’s too bad.”
She waved her hand in the air.
A moment later the emcee’s
gavel fell and Kimberly said triumphantly, “Because this is
the guy
you’re getting.”
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