Cockloft: A firefighter term used as a structural space above ceiling and below rafters, often connecting adjacent occupancies and permitting fire to spread laterally, often unseen. Gabriel Martinez is the most arrogant and infuriating man I’ve ever met. He has a knee-weakening smirk that makes me want to kiss—no—slap it off his rude, sexy face. Judging by his ego, you’d think the hose in his pants is as big as the one on his fire truck. Not that I know anything about that nor do I want to. Nope, not at all. He’s already been forgotten like last season’s Michael Kors. CeCe Kensington is as pretentious and spoiled as they come. The ridiculous purses she shoulders around are as big as her attitude. And don’t get me started on her mile-long legs or full, glossy lips that are meant to be wrapped around a guy’s… If she only knew the dirty things I think about doing to that sassy mouth of hers, she'd be hightailing it back to her side of town. *** When the beautiful boutique owner and sexy firefighter meet in the most unlikely situation, their two worlds collide, creating an explosion of misperceptions and combustible heat, trapping them in a fire they never saw coming. EXCERPT She thrusts her drink at me then digs into the massive handbag she has hanging in the crook of her arm. The first thing she pulls out is hand sanitizer. Then Kleenex, lip gloss, perfume, a compact mirror, and a safety pin. In the midst of her digging, I even see a heel slip out that she quickly shoves back inside. “Jesus, what the hell do you have in there? Your whole closet?” “So what if I do? You should be grateful considering I just crossed off seven of our needed items.” “Touché, Blondie. You got a condom in there?” Her eyes narrow but a slight blush stains her porcelain cheeks. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” “I do, since it’s on the list,” I say, showing her my half of the paper. “Oh.” She clears her throat. “Well…no, I don’t.” “No problem. I have a few on me.” I deliver the information with a wink then retrieve my wallet from my back pocket and pull out the condom, dropping it into the bag. With a sassy smile, she digs out the foil packet and holds it up to inspect it. “Let me guess, extra small?” My cock hardens at the taunt. I collect a step forward, coming so close that I can see the fast thrumming pulse at the base of her neck. “Careful, Blondie. I have no qualms about bending you over and ripping off those expensive panties of yours to show you just how wrong your ‘guess’ is.” “In your dreams, Fireboy,” she sneers, but there’s no denying the heat in her eyes, the same one I have roaring in my veins. I lean in even closer, dipping my mouth next to her ear. “If you only knew the things I do to you in my dreams, especially that feisty mouth, you’d haul your high maintenance ass back to your side of town.” Her breath races, skimming across my jaw. “I know what you’re trying to do, but you don’t scare me.” My nose brushes against her creamy cheek, pushing it just one step further to see if she really means that. She doesn’t move a muscle, except for the shiver that claims her body. “Good to know, because I don’t bite unless you want me to.”
