“His landlord needed his place cleared out, but I just couldn't do it. Not without a drink to make me numb. Which is how I found you.”

He squeezed her hands. “I'm glad you did. I'm glad it was me.”

“Me too,” she whispered, coming up on her knees in front of him to kiss him gently. “And I'm glad I can be here for you.”

“I'll be all right, Maya,” he said, and she believed him. He was an incredibly strong man. But it was like he'd said once to her, even strong people needed help sometimes.

“Ever since Tony died I've been consumed by the fact that a murderer is walking around out there, just waiting for his next chance to kill somebody's brother, or sister, or best friend. Thank you for asking Patrick to look into Tony's case. You'll never know how much it means to me.”

“I want to help, Maya. Anything I can do, I'll do.”

She didn't want to get distracted by his kisses, by his touch, before she said what she'd come to say, but she couldn't resist pressing her lips to his to silently let him know how much his concern meant to her.

Forcing herself to pull away from his heat, she took a deep breath and tried to put all of her feelings into words. “I don't want you to fall into the same trap I've been stuck in, living only for revenge.”

“Is that what you've been doing?”

She closed her eyes, finally accepting the truth she'd tried to hide from for so long. “Yes, that's exactly what I've been doing.”

He dragged her body into his and as she rested her head against the hard wall of his chest, she almost forgot who was comforting whom.

She didn't unwrap her arms from his warmth as she said, “What happened to Robbie isn't your fault, Logan.”

She felt him tense. “I wasn't there to save Robbie. Now he's dead.”

He tried to pull back, but she refused to let him go. Not when he needed her so desperately, as much as she had needed him six months ago.

“You're one of the best men I've ever known. You lead your men with honesty and integrity. You've earned their trust. And mine. Forever.” She looked at him and allowed her deeply buried feelings to shine through. “Let me love you, Logan. Let me help you heal.”

CHAPTER NINETEEN

LOGAN CRADLED Maya on his lap, overwhelmed by the depth of his feelings for her. He tucked her head under his chin and stroked her soft hair in long strokes as it fell over her shoulders and down her back.

“You don't have to do this, Maya.”

She shifted on his thighs and looked up at him. “I want to.”

She brushed his lower lip with the pad of her thumb and he bit back a groan as she bent over his torso and the tips of her hair swept across his skin. His abdominal muscles twitched and tightened in anticipation of her mouth. He barely felt the tip of her tongue at first as it slid into the deep ridges of his stomach.

He was already perilously close to the edge. His hands fisted at his sides as he reached deep for control. His abs had served him well for hoisting and twisting and carrying, never for foreplay.

The towel fell from her br**sts and her soft, round flesh brushed against his cock. He wasn't even sure she knew what her beauty was doing to him. Maya wasn't just some fire groupie who wanted to bag another fireman. Instead, her emotions ran deep and pure.

It made him want her even more, and he wanted to drag her up his body and bury himself in her heat. But this lovemaking, with her at the helm, was meant to heal them both. Somehow, he'd find a way to keep his hands off her and let her continue her tongue's path down his body.

A moment later, she unhooked the towel from his waist, and as she peeled back the thick white cotton, cool air suddenly rushed across his c**k a moment before Maya wrapped one hand around his shaft and went still.

He worked to find his voice, to give the impression that he wasn't about to explode in her hand. “You act like you've never seen it before.”

She sucked her lower lip under her front teeth. “I've only felt it,” she said, tightening her grip on his c**k and slowly sliding her hand down. “This is the first time I've got to really look at you. You're beautiful, Logan. Absolutely perfect.”

She bent her head and dropped a kiss onto his engorged head, then licked away the answering drop of arousal.

He was this close to rolling her over flat on her back and taking her even harder and faster than he had by his front door. And then her mouth came down over him, sheathing him in warm, wet heat, and the only thing he could do was bury his hands in her hair and buck his hips up into her mouth. As her tongue swept up and down the length of him and she squeezed the base of his erection with one hand, his c**k pulsed and thickened in her mouth.

He was all for letting her explore his body, but he wasn't going to come in her mouth. Not this time, at least. It was a torture to pull out from between her soft, slick lips.

And then, a moment later, she was lying on her back, her towel on the floor, her thighs spread open beneath him.

“I wasn't done,” she said.

He silenced her protest with a long, slow kiss. From his very first taste of her, she'd remained the benchmark by which he'd judged every other kiss.

He found the word “love” sitting on the tip of his tongue and it shocked the hell out of him. He levered up on his arms, nearly locking his elbows to create some space between them, to recover his grip on reality.

Her eyes filled with concern. “Logan? Are you all right?”

She reached for him, and he knew she thought he was pulling away because of Robbie. But while Robbie's loss would always haunt him, would hit him hard at times when he least expected it, like Sunday afternoon cleanup and grocery runs, right now he was thinking about Maya. And whether there was a chance in hell that she felt the same way he did.

Because even though she'd just shared so much with him, he knew she was still holding back, was still afraid to let herself love another firefighter.

She'd given him her body, but he was going to have to fight like hell to capture her heart.

He let her pull him back down over her, let her gently rain kisses over his face, his neck, before he turned his focus to her pleasure, to cupping a breast in each hand and lightly rolling her ni**les between his thumbs and forefingers before he settled his mouth over one stiff peak.

With every stroke of his tongue against her br**sts, he concentrated on slipping his fingers between her wet, slick labia, slipping one, then two fingers into her, all while laving her ni**les with his tongue, until she was writhing beneath him, silently begging him to take her again.