Fired Up(6)
Holy. Shit.
The man lounging on her steps was one hell of a welcoming committee. As her brain pinwheeled frantically, trying to process his presence, her libido registered his body—his large, well-muscled, hard body. He had to be well over six feet tall, and she drank in every inch, starting with the T- shirt pulled tight over his chest and then moving down over his Nomex-clad thighs. Given the way he was sprawled, there was no missing his package. He sure had one hell of a welcome for her.
Handsome, laughing eyes examined her from an even better-looking face, his skin sun-bronzed from hours outdoors. Dark hair brushed against his jaw in thick waves, but stubble roughed his jaw from at least a day on the trail. His watchful attitude screamed former soldier, but that hair was pure bad boy. No standard military issue there. He flashed her a wicked hint of a dimple as he winked, confirming her rule-breaker impression, and he’d have laugh lines before he was forty from the smile lighting u

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