Page 43 of My Favorite Hero

She was droll and funny. Intelligent. I was fascinated listening to her talk about computers. She was a fountain of knowledge yet never made me feel stupid for my lack of understanding them the way she did. When I told her what machine I had, she was horrified.

“I need to upgrade you, Thorne. You’re still in the nineties.”

“That was probably when I bought it.”

She lifted an eyebrow, her voice teasing. “Along with your T-shirts?”

I chuckled. “Probably.” Most of my shirts, I’d had a long time. Probably not that long, but I did like making her laugh.

And she did, the peals of merriment making me laugh with her, enjoying her teasing. Strangely enough, I didn’t mind her calling me Thorne. It felt affectionate. As if we were friends.

I was intensely private. A loner, many called me. I preferred a peaceful night at home by myself to a group of people in a bar. Working in the fire department, I was surrounded the entire shift by others. Most would call me quiet. I played cards on occasion, maybe shot some pool, but often, I would read, work out, or find something to stay busy with. Still, when my shift was over, I craved the solitude of my place. When Lou was alive, I would help her out, occasionally share a meal or a cup of coffee with her, but she didn’t push for more.

I found myself hoping Casey would.

And tonight, I had almost kissed her. She had been laughing over my teasing her—another first for me since I rarely spoke, never mind teased. She looked sexy in her simple shirt and jeans—nothing fussy or over the top. I liked hearing her laugh. It did something to my chest, and I found myself trying to do things, say things, that would make her laugh.

As she tilted her head back, her thick hair hanging down to her waist, I caught the line of her throat, and a sudden, deep urge to know if the skin was as soft as it looked took hold. I wanted to feel her mouth underneath mine. Taste her laughter. Taste her.

And if it weren’t for Barney and Miller, I would have.

I was still unsure whether I was grateful or upset about the interruption.

Kissing Casey would have opened a door I wasn’t certain I either wanted or should go through. I wasn’t looking for a relationship, and she only planned on being here a short time.

Yet, the desire was there. If I was honest, I had found her attractive the moment I’d first laid eyes on her curvy ass. And with every interaction, contentious or agreeable, the fascination was there and growing. I often caught her staring my way and was certain she experienced the same draw.

I sat up, running a hand through my hair. It was odd to think she was lying just feet away from me with only a wall separating us. I wondered if she was asleep. Or lying awake, wrestling with the same questions I had.

I lay back, recalling how close we had stood. How I knew as I stared into her eyes I would have to bend my knees and lower myself down to reach her mouth. How desperately I wanted to. She was so close, I could feel the warmth of her body, almost pressing to mine. I inhaled her soft scent—a mix of florals and citrus that suited her. My hand had itched to reach down, cup that ass, and pull her to me. Kiss her until she was breathless.

I turned my head, moaning into my pillow as my cock stiffened. I wrapped my hand around it, stroking, imagining it was her. That she was straddling me, her long hair tickling my thighs as she whispered my name. Begged me to take her. I gripped myself harder, stroking faster. She would be wild. Open in her desire. Sweat broke out on my forehead, and I stifled the groan as the pleasure began to build. My fantasies ran rampant. Her sucking my cock, her mouth wet and warm as she took me deeply. Her riding me, hot and slick, her full breasts right by my mouth so I could lick and suck her. She was beautiful and wanton. As filled with need for me as I was for her.

I came hard, shooting into my hand, the release powerful.

I blinked as I opened my eyes.

Did I just yell her name?

I shook my head. No—it was only part of the fantasy.

I sighed as I got up and cleaned myself, then lay back down. The room felt emptier, the bed colder.

And I was still thinking of her. She was the last thing on my mind when sleep finally claimed me.

CASEY

Jesse came to my door in the morning, his sweats hanging low on his hips and another Batman T-shirt on under a hoodie. It was a casual but extremely sexy look on him. I offered him a cup of coffee, and he took it, his face lighting up when I handed him a giant peanut butter cookie. We sat on the deck, him sipping and chewing, making the occasional growl of pleasure.

I tried not to stare, but with his hair lifting in the breeze and his shirt showing his muscles to perfection, it was hard not to.

He seemed to have trouble meeting my eyes this morning, and I wondered if he was thinking about what happened last night.

Or didn’t happen.

He still looked a little tired, and I finished my coffee, setting the cup on the table beside me.

“You sleep okay?” I inquired.