Carina Alyce

Inferno: A Steamy Forbidden Boss Firefighter Romance (MetroGen Forbidden Love Duets #5)

Inferno: A Steamy Forbidden Boss Firefighter Romance (MetroGen Forbidden Love Duets #5)

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Some girls are pink girls. Pink bedroom. Pink blanket. Pink dress. Pink birthday cake. Pink kitty. Pink, pink, pink, pink, pink.

Firefighter Erin Hudgens had never been a pink girl. She’d always been the girl with the basketball, the girl climbing a tree.

It was a good thing that her boyfriend of six months understood that and got her purple boxing gloves. He also was earnestly attempting to teach her to box.

“You’re left-handed. Remember, Orthodox stance is right foot forward, left foot a little bit back, still shoulder-width apart. Right fist up to block and left fist cocked for power.” Blonde and blue-eyed Noah Baker flashed his smile and nodded encouragingly, holding the side of the heavy bag.

Erin assumed the stance as instructed. She was about five-foot nine, and Noah was six-two, so she’d have a pretty good reach. She winked conspiratorially. “Did you say ‘cocked’?”

He ducked in and gave her a quick kiss on the lips. “I meant your fist.”

“A girl can dream,” she said. They’d been living together now for about three weeks, having committed to each other on New Year’s Eve, and Erin had made the big, crazy step to move in with him.

He lived in a three-bedroom house on the West Side of Cleveland, with a huge, finished basement, which included this mancave-gym. Her rowhouse was hanging out all by its lonesome, available for crashing after shift if needed.

“Right jab is ‘one.’ Left cross is ‘two.’ The big hooks are ‘right three’ and ‘left four.’ Uppercuts are ‘right five’ and ‘left six.’” Noah demonstrated the punches by shadowboxing in his red gloves. “Always pivot from the hips.”

Erin refrained from cracking another joke about hip action.

“One, two, three, four… No. More hip.” He counted off again, using various combinations of one through four. “One, three, four. Good.”

She punched the heavy bag a couple times and said, “Why is it never five or six?”

“Upper cuts are less useful without an actual person. A solid left hook is pretty discouraging for anyone you might encounter.”

“Should I try it on you?” Erin raised her fists.

He laughed. “You can.”

“You going to let me beat you up with my big purple gloves?”

“I’ve been boxing for twenty years. You’ve been boxing for twenty minutes.”

She pretended to hit him. “This is what you do in your spare time? Beat the bag?”

Her innuendo was ignored because he was quite familiar with her regular attempts to sidetrack him. “I have the speed bag down here, too. Those rare times I get to my gym, I’ll hit the ring or cross train in a mixed martial arts class.”

“I think mixed martial arts class sounds cooler than punching stuff.”

“Punching is part of mixed martial arts. The people who are great do Jiu-Jitsu and Judo gyms for grappling. There’s a bunch of places for that around here. My boxing gym offers a separate grappling class here and there.”

“Grappling? Can I try?” She snaked a leg under his, pretending to off-balance him.

“You must be hell on a basketball court.” He tackled her onto the mats and they rolled twice, a mixture of panting and laughing.

“I can get into this sport.” She leaned her head up from the mat and caught his lips with hers. Kissing Noah was eternally amazing. It never failed to make Erin’s blood boil. Anytime she was around him, she fought the desire to get naked on the nearest surface.

He moaned, as it became clear boxing gloves were not conducive to ripping clothes off. The wrist needed to be unwound to find fingers.

“Erin, you’re killing me.” He nipped the warm bronze skin of her collarbone peeking through the neck of her Firehouse 15 crew T-shirt.

“It’s a good way to go.” She playfully bit him back, leaving teeth marks on his worn Firehouse 33 shirt. She squirmed her hips against his. “Can we try the grappling? Naked grappling? You know you want to.”

“I do.” His lips found hers again.

“I like naked grappling,” she volunteered. Her first time in his house, months ago, she’d devirginized every room in the house. She wasn’t above doing the same to each panel of his exercise mats.

“I meant teach you some grappling,” he replied with difficulty.

“Does the difficulty go up with the gloves on?” She wasn’t referring to grappling. Erin shoved her left glove under his shirt, which let her unabashedly feast her eyes on his six-pack. Noah Baker was completely her type, tall, blonde, lean, and cut beyond belief. His dark blonde chest hair pointed past the ‘fuck-me’ muscles on his hip.

He rolled away. “I’ve got it.”

“Yes, you do.” She brushed her hip against his workout shorts.

He went rigid, and she loved having this effect on him. Most of the time, he was restrained, almost standoffish… until they touched. Noah knelt and instructed. “Get behind me. Right behind me.”

“New technique?” Erin was skeptical. She’d been back on twenty-four-hour shifts for the first few weeks in January. Sleeping at the firehouse once every three nights decreased the number of times she was sleeping in her new bed.

“It’s the grappling technique.” She faked a disappointed pout, and he gave her another quick kiss on the lips. “One technique… and then I’ll give it to you good and hard on the mats.”

“Deal,” she said. “It’s creepy that you can read my mind like a Jedi.”

“Focus, young padawan. A Jedi does not suffer the needs of the body. I want you to put one hand behind my neck, like you’re putting me in a headlock. Slide the other under my chin.”

Humoring him, as this technique was between her and firefighter heaven, was the path of least resistance. “Left hand around your neck like this?” Erin’s elbow was under his chin and her chest pressed against his solid shoulders.

“Right there,” he said. “Now, take your other arm and press it into my neck from behind. This it called the ‘rear naked choke.’ Your right arm pushes me forward as your left arm puts pressure on both my carotid arteries and I start to pass—”

His voice cut off when Erin applied the requested pressure. His hands scrambled ineffectively at her arm, still stuck in his gloves. Noah tapped her arm twice, and she released him. “Does that mean you gave up?”

“That’s ‘tapping out.’ Good job,” he sounded raspy. “Good job on the choke.”

“You going to try that on me?”

“I am not choking out my girlfriend. That’s not a kink I do.”

“How about a kink we do?” She held up her gloves, and he used his teeth to untie the wrist strap. She tossed the gloves across the room toward the TV, her fingers itching for him.

“You going to help me?” Noah held up his gloves.

“Oh, I’ll be helping. Take your own gloves off.” She eased his shorts and underwear down his slim hips.

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Inferno: A Steamy Forbidden Boss Love Firefighter Romance