“The shelves are really sturdy though. Lots of good places for handholds,” he informed her.
His bright laughter filled the air again and she couldn’t help the affectionate smile that curled her lips as she watched him look and act his age, instead of the too serious and solemn Captain everyone saw at 51 and in public. This Matt Casey had an incredibly dry and dirty sense of humor and a playful side to him that she bet only a few got to see. She loved it, and had every intention of encouraging that side to come out more around her and maybe in public.
Maybe not, though. She wasn’t sure Chicago was ready for their one dimensional view of Captain Matt Casey to be flipped on its head. Besides, she kind of liked that she was one of a select few even within 51 that he trusted enough to fully relax around.
“Although, the turnout room is way too popular. It’s only number four on my list, but Sev has it at like two, or something.”
“Matthew Casey,” she said sternly. “Please tell me that you did not just imply that you have a top ten list of your favorite hookup spots at 51!”
“Sylvie Brett,” he retorted in the same tone. “I told you earlier that I have been at 51 for nearly ten years, plus Kelly Severride is my best friend. I would think that you would be more surprised if I didn’t have a favorites list!”
She paused, considering. “Very true.” She conceded, dropping the façade as her eyes sparkled naughtily. “So then do you have other spots that overlap, or is your list completely separate from his?”
His smile grew a hint of teeth as she let him maneuver her once more so that she was straddling his lap on her knees, bracing her hands on his shoulders as she leaned over him. She didn’t bother pointing out that they had just been here a few minutes ago, more interested in what he was currently plotting.
“He has his preferences, I have mine,” he replied. “It’s gonna be a lot more fun to show you than just tell, though.”
“I dunno,” she mused, still not finished teasing. “I just can’t quite picture the logistics of the whole thing, Casey. Even in your quarters.”
“Well,” his hands slipped under her shirt to stroke up her back as he began laying a line of nibbling kisses and licks along her neck between words. “With firehouse hookups, it’s really all about the timing. Sometimes you only have a few minutes.” His hands drifted to her belly and paused for a minute before moving upwards, drawing her shirt – and her suddenly loosened bra – with it.
“How did you – “ she started, before throwing her head back with a surprised moan, arching into him as his hot mouth covered her nipple and sucked the whole thing into his mouth, his tongue working and licking. “Dammit Matt,” she gasped, her eyes nearly rolling back into her head as he blew gently before curling his tongue around the tip.
At the same time, his left hand skimmed down, slipping into her loosened shorts and panties to swipe a single line up her pussy, groaning again at the wetness, before slowly penetrating with two thick fingers, his thumb finding and pressing hard against her clit and then rubbing as he moved his forearm in a rapid back and forth motion, hard and fast.
She exploded with another surprised cry, coating his hand in wetness, her body shaking and vibrating as he returned his attention to her breasts, grazing and then tugging on her nipples with his teeth before soothing with his tongue as she shuddered, sending more aftershocks through her as her mind went blank with euphoric pleasure.
She slumped, boneless, as he slowly withdrew his fingers, feeling the last tremors shiver through her in reaction. He drew her bra the rest of the way down, over her arms and through the armhole of her shirt before pulling the rest of the material back down and rubbing soothing circles on her back as her breath slowly evened out.
“See? All about the timing.” He smirked into her neck, stifling a curse as she cuddled into him. “Also, challenge accepted.”
“It’s rude to gloat, Matthew Casey,” she mumbled into his shoulder, boneless. “But I suppose I can forgive you just this once. Also, what the fuck.”
He snickered into her hair. “Language, Sylvie.”
She lifted her head to stare dazedly at him in disbelief. “If ever there was a moment that warranted explicit language, this is it, Matthew Casey! So again, for the nonexistent people in the back: what the fuck? What happened to slow burn, not a flashover, Sylvie?” She pitched her voice deeper to imitate him, ignoring his snort of amusement.
There she went with that flushed, blunt honesty, he noted with an inward grin that wasn’t so inward. “You convinced me to rethink my definition a bit. And, you were questioning the logistics of a firehouse hookup. I thought a practical demonstration was in order. Actions speak louder than words, Sylvie,” he teased, still looking so damned pleased with himself that she shook her head, rolling her eyes even as she kissed that smug grin off of his face.
“You are ridiculous,” she sighed, her body still humming with pleasure.
“You are amazing,” he countered, even as his firm grip on her hips prevented her from lowering herself down to grind on him. “And it’s nearly time to go if we want to catch everyone before the evening rush.”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “This isn’t over.”
“That was not a challenge, Sylvie Brett,” he warned.
“And yet, here we are. This is the second night in a row that you have turned my brains to mush, yet taken nothing for yourself,” she retorted. “You’re holding back for some reason, Matt. Your reasons why are your own, and I’m not going to ask. But this particular conversation is far from over.” She walked away, head held high, before he could reply.