Out Of The Flames

By Leah Sharelle

There is nothing in the world that Lead Firefighter Dylan Grant loves more than his wife, Tate.

The second the tattooed mountain of a man laid eyes on her, she became his obsession, the very breath in his lungs, the beat of his heart.

When he isn't fighting fires or hanging with his two best mates, he is with Tate.

There isn't one single thing he wouldn't do for her.

But there is one thing he can't give her—a baby.

The alpha firefighter just won't accept that. No way.

Tate leads a charmed life. She is married to a hunk who dotes on her every second of the day.

Her custom jewellery pieces are taking off, giving her a respected reputation and making her some good money. The only black cloud hovering over her happy life is the fact she can't get pregnant.

Since the day she met Dylan, all she wanted was the perfect life with him. What if she can't give Dylan what they both want. Will he look elsewhere? Will her failure ruin the best thing that has ever happened to her?

When tragedy strikes the cruellest blow, will Tate and Dylan find a way out of the flames to their happily ever after?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Leah Sharelle
• Release date: May 20, 2019
• ISBN: 9781386351535

Book preview

1

I steered my car into my driveway, a bone-weary sigh escaping my lips when I saw the welcoming sight of my wife waiting for me on the front porch of our home.

There was no better site to come home to after a fourteen-hour night shift than the woman of my dreams standing in one of my T-shirts, hair all mussed, face clean from her workday make-up, and smiling just for me as she pushed herself off the doorframe she had been leaning on.

Shifting the gearstick into park, I took a moment to shake off the ache from a gruelling shift before I opened the car door and got out slowly. I knew what was coming, and my body was already braced for the impact of my doll as she flung herself into my arms. Her sexy, shapely legs wrapped around my waist, and I instantly felt the hard slog of the day melt away.

It was the same feeling I’ve had since I first laid eyes on my gorgeous redheaded doll.

No, that wasn’t quite right. It was the same just more intense. She was my obsession, my all-consuming, finger-tingling, toe-curling obsession.

My arms tightened around her waist as I buried my face into her strawberry-blonde hair and breathed her scent in. Hmmm, right here is my happy place, I thought to myself—the fucking happiest place in the world.

Hey, good lookin’, you smell like you need a shower, Tate whispered in my ear. Her teeth caught my earlobe and tugged gently on it before lathing the spot with her warm tongue, sending sparks of desire to my balls and dick and pulling a groan from me.

Only if you’re gonna join me.

I’ll wash your back then you can do my front. Sound good? She laughed, getting a better grip on me so I could take my arms from around her for a second to close the car door, locking it with the remote. We did this so many times that she knew what was coming and when.

How about I worship every inch of your front and back, I answered, putting my arms back around her and walking us up the path to the house.

"Mmmmm, now you’re talkin’, sexy."

I laughed at her use of a second endearment for me in less than three minutes. That was Tate, calling me every pet name under the sun. During a five-minute conversation with her, she could come out with at least ten of them. She joked she was looking for the perfect one that suited me, and after ten years together, five of them married, she was still searching. I didn’t care if she never found one just as long as her sweet voice never stopped saying them to me—ever.

Let’s get inside. Food first then shower, and then a night of worshipping each other, I muttered against her pouty lips. Damn, I loved her lips. They were so soft and warm and so very willing every time I put my lips to them, which I did a lot because it was one of my favourite things to do with my wife. The list of favourites was a long one, and after ten years of polling, I still hadn’t picked a top five yet. Another sixty years of research, and I might come up with a winner, but until then…

Does that mean I get to have a turn handling your body too, or are you going to be mean like always? Tate asked with a nip to my chin.

She wasn’t wrong. I was very greedy when it came to my wife’s pleasure. I demanded it from her, and in return, I got to see the most beautiful sight in the entire world. My doll, her body sated and stained with a pink blush all over as she came for me. For. Me.

Now if that makes me mean, then I don’t give a shit. See, as far as I am concerned, Tate is first, and every single other thing is a distant second. Nothing means more to me, and nothing ever will. She is my whole fucking life, and it means nothing if I don’t have Tate.

Feeling my heart constrict with the familiar tightness that always happened whenever my mind drifted to Tate, I picked up my pace and nearly ran up the front steps.

Food and shower were going to have to take a number. I needed to be inside my wife.

I tell you what, beautiful. You can thread your clever fingers through my hair while I am between your thighs, getting my fill of your fucking sweet pussy.

Tate gasped, and as her eyes hooded, her nipples pebbled against the tee she had on. Through my work shirt, I could feel them turn into bullets. In my mind’s eye, I could see them, feel them in my mouth as I rolled my tongue over them.

Hurry, baby, Tate urged. Her need for me was clear in her voice. It was always like this for us. From the moment we met, she became mine and I became hers. Our meeting was better than fate—we were destined to be.

Whatever you want, beautiful, I answered in the same way I did whenever Tate asked me to do something. I lived to love her and making her happy was a close second. She asked for so little from me—just to love her.

I kept Tate in my arms, and once I made it into the house, I slammed the door shut with my foot. I didn’t bother with the lights. I just walked straight to our bedroom, bypassed the bed for now, and into the en-suite. Setting Tate on the ground, I made sure she was balanced before taking my arms from around her, and as usual, I felt the loss of contact deep in my bones. There weren’t enough words, not that I could put together, that would come close to honouring how much I loved and craved my wife. Not touching her hurt and being away from her to go to work nearly killed me every time. If it was still like this for me after ten years together, how was I going to be in another ten or twenty years?

Exactly the same, I hope, I thought as I turned on the water in the shower on to heat up.

Don’t take your clothes off, dollface, I said sternly, knowing without turning around that she would be doing that very thing. It was my job, and she knew it. My wife had a sassy side, and at times, she liked to push my buttons. She knew my crazy was all because of her. Hell, I used to be a pretty normal guy, but then one night at a house fire changed that.

A night that brought me a chance meeting with the rest of my life, a night I fell deeply in love.

You are so bossy, hunk, Tate sassed, which earned a grunt from me. She hadn’t used that one for a week or more.

Turning my head, I watched my wife as she lifted herself onto the vanity and waited for me to do my thing. Her slim legs swung back and forth with her feet pointed out, giving me a glimpse of her pretty toes, which were made even prettier with two toe rings on each foot—her own creations, of course.

My wife wasn’t only sexy and beautiful. She happened to be an incredibly talented jewellery designer, and her workshop was in our backyard. A mate of mine owned a business that built custom-made cubbyhouses for kids, log cabin type deals with several rooms and high ceilings. I went to him with an idea for a bigger version of what he already had on offer, and we got it powered and plumbed. There was even a small pot-belly wood heater in it, so Tate was comfortable working in there in the winter months.

She made exquisite pieces of jewellery and deserved a space to work in that helped her creative mind. Nothing was too much for my Tate.

New toe rings? I questioned, looking pointedly at the amber and silver ring on her left foot.

Yep. Finished them tonight, but I’m not sure if I am going to add them to my catalogue yet. The amber is hard to come by and costs a mint. If I do make them available, they will be in my more expensive range, she explained.

You should, baby. Your customers know you only use the best quality stones and metals. Paying for that is better than getting something on the cheap and your fingers or toes going black because the metal is nothing but muck, I said, moving towards her, my eyes glued to her exposed thighs not covered by my tee she used for a nightie.

You always say the right things, don’t you, handsome?

I stopped inches away from Tate, and her cerulean blue eyes shone with mischief then darkened with desire when I reached for the hem of her T-shirt and whipped it up and over her body.

"Well, I guess you have something specific in miiinnnd!" The last word came out in a long squeal, probably because I bent my head and took one pebbled nipple into my mouth, sucking and tonguing it until it became engorged with blood. I moaned with approval when Tate pushed her breast closer to my face, silently showing me what she wanted from me. Not that she had to—there wasn’t anything I didn’t know about my wife and her needs. There wasn’t an inch of her phenomenal curvy body I hadn’t memorised, touched, kissed, tongued, or made love to, not an inch I didn’t know by heart, blindfolded and in a dark room.

Without taking my mouth from its prize, I gripped my shirt and tore the buttons from the holes with one hard yank and ripped it off, then tossed it across the room. My hands went to Tate’s hips and pulled her closer to the edge of the vanity.

You know I mean everything I say when it comes to you, baby. They aren’t just words or window dressing to get into your pants, I told her truthfully. My hands moved down over her thighs to where they were pressed together, her mound covered by a minuscule scrap of lace.

A growl left my throat as I dropped to my knees and gently parted her thighs. Slipping one finger behind the lace, I moved the material to the side, and her wet folds were warm against the digit as I revealed one of my favourite things in the world.

How is it that the sight of your wet pussy still makes me shake with anticipation? Without waiting for an answer, I leaned forward and pressed the flat of my tongue to Tate’s throbbing clit. The burst of sweetness that filled my senses would have brought me to my knees if I wasn’t already on them.

Mmmmm, and how is it that I have tasted you more times than I can count, and yet every time feels like the first? I asked another rhetorical question, then dived back into the warmth of my wife’s pussy.

"Oh. Oh. Oh. Dylan, yesssss."

I felt Tate’s fingers spear into my faux hawk on the top of my head, holding me firmly against her as she writhed and rode my mouth. Her Oh, oh, oh’s meant just one thing—she was close. I pushed my tongue further inside her opening, as far as I could get it, and felt her walls tighten and grip my tongue. Yep, she was close.

"Lover, I’m… Oh, yeah, like that. Oh, yes, here it comes… Now!" Tate yelled, grinding harder against my mouth as her pussy flooded my mouth with the warm liquid of her release.

Her first one for the night, I thought wickedly. I was getting my second wind, thanks to my wife, and the tiring shift I’d just finished was now a distant memory.

I took my time cleaning her juices from her folds and the inside crease of her thighs before jumping to my feet. I lifted Tate into my arms and crashed my lips against hers, thrusting my tongue into her mouth and letting her get a taste of herself. I felt her sexy groans of appreciation right down to my balls.

Fuck, you drive me wild with your noises. I could come just from them alone. I practically growled against her mouth then kissed her again, cutting off any remark from my wife. As much as I loved her voice, hearing it, kissing was what I wanted right now.

I was never one for kissing until I met Tate, and I had controlled any intimacy. It sounded like a dick move, not kissing a woman much during

Reviews for Out Of The Flames

[Angela Gibbs · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

This is going to be short and sweet because I don’t want to give anything away, but I will say that this book ripped my heart out and then pieced it back together. I ugly cried hard with Tate and Dylan during this book. But what came from their tragedy was beautiful and happy. I totally fell in love with this couple. They heat up the pages easily, but the depth of emotion that came through in the story is what really rocked me. So I will say that I HIGHLY and UTTERLY recommend this book that EVERYONE!! Happy reading!!