Make Me Burn

by Marie Harte

  Was that unfair?

  Brad swallowed more vanilla fudge and tried to bury his feelings. He normally had no problem. Other people’s issues took priority. Saving lives, extinguishing fires, being there for his friends, his brother, his mom, Rochelle.

  And maybe that way he didn’t have to face the constant hurt buried so deep. He could almost hear Rochelle lecturing him to get that counseling he kept saying he’d get. They had a chaplain through the station, but he didn’t want his private life to mingle with his work life. It was enough he knew he had an irrational need to save the world.

  But he’d been doing better with that, accepting when his friends demanded to take on the more dangerous situations at work.

  Mostly.

  Avery came out wearing a nightshirt with a pink cartoon cat on it that hit her mid-thigh. And she wore her glasses. Brad’s body stirred. He hoped she didn’t notice. He wasn’t a sex-starved teenager, but around her, his body reacted. All the time.

  She smiled, seeing him with a bowl of ice cream. “Is there some for me?”

  He held out his spoon.

  “Ew. No way. I don’t want any backwash vanilla fudge.”

  He blinked. “That’s a thing? I thought backwash was only with drinks.”

  “It is to me.” She just looked at him. “I’m trying to be polite by not rummaging through your kitchen, but I’m going to get my own bowl and spoon in a minute.”

  Snapped back to reality by a snotty Avery, he grinned. She didn’t even try, and she had him feeling so much lighter, as if her snippiness eased the burdens constantly holding him down. “Snoop away. You are a reporter, after all.”

  “Sorry to break it to you, but unless you have an alien tomb buried in your bedroom or can tell me about your rose bushes, I’m not interested.” She rummaged around and found a bowl and spoon, then dished herself some ice cream.

  “Rose bushes?”

  “Yeah, for my gardening series.” She shared details of her new series of articles, and Brad kept asking questions, genuinely interested.

  “My mom and Rochelle are big into flowers.”

  “Then they should love the series I’m doing. I’ll save a paper for you to give to them.” She ate her ice cream next to him at the counter.

  She kept giving him side-glances until he blew out a breath. “What? Just say it already.”

  “Are you just pretending to be interested because we slept together? Or is your interest real?”

  “Avery, everything with you has been real. That’s one of the perks of this relationship.” He grinned at her confusion. Good. Glad I’m not the only one feeling it. “I have no idea where this is going, but the sex is phenomenal, and I don’t feel like I have to worry about hurting your feelings every time we talk.”

  “Oh. That’s good then.” She smiled.

  “Yeah.”

  They watched each other.

  She broke the silence. “Do you think Gerty and Oscar are getting along?”

  “If he’s not a complete moron, probably. He hasn’t texted me, and I have no plans to text him.” He looked her over, seeing those shapely legs when she shifted. Her nightshirt molded to her breasts, unfettered by a bra. He swallowed hard. “You cold?”

  She glanced down at her nipples and winked. “Or am I excited because Super Hunk is standing so close? Tune in tomorrow to find out.”

  “So funny.”

  She smirked. “What’s wrong? Am I distracting you?” She thrust her chest out and licked her spoon…suggestively.

  He broke out in a light sweat. “Huh? Not at all. Your breasts are distracting me, not you. Because I will not objectify you as a subject of body parts. Your tits are fucking amazing. You, Avery, are lovely.”

  She blushed. “Well, I like being fucking amazing too.” She licked that damn spoon again, looked him over, then took a big bite of ice cream as she watched him.

  He should be too tired to go again.

  But his dick had woken up and refused to go down.

  She glanced at his cock and ate more ice cream before pointing the spoon at him. “Pull down your shorts.”

  His blood rushed between his legs and stayed there. “Why?”

  “Just do it, Battle.”

  He pushed down his shorts and stood there, waiting. Excited by the gleam in her eyes.

  She closed the distance between them, still nursing her vanilla fudge, and fiddled with her glasses. “Hmm. It seems to grow bigger when I get closer.”

  “Cause and effect,” he growled. “Do the math.”

  She chuckled. “So easy.”

  He would have said something obnoxious back, but she removed her glasses.

  “Ever had something really cold on your dick, Brad? Ever had it licked off?”

  He just watched her lick her spoon for a long moment. “Oh my God. Stop talking and do it.”

  She snickered, ate another spoonful of ice cream, then lowered to her knees.

  Brad almost passed out when her mouth closed over him. And it didn’t take him long to realize he’d found an expert in the fine art of fellatio, and that Avery was indeed a very, very good girl.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Avery hoped the neighbors didn’t complain about the noise as she stood and put her glasses back on. A mouthful of ice cream followed the taste of Brad down her throat.

  Ah, a weakness. Brad Battle loses his mind over blow jobs. Good to know.

  She smiled at him while he stood gaping at her, so she helped him pull his shorts back up.

  “I… You… I can’t…”

  She laughed. “Blew your mind, eh?”

  He nodded, still trying to form words.

  A loud knock at the door startled them both.

  Crap. He’d been so loud he was getting noise complaints. She stayed behind the counter in the kitchen, visible if someone opened the door but far enough away they wouldn’t be able to see she wore no bra.

  Brad let out a loud breath and opened the door, likely to apologize, when Tex walked past him, agitated and in a rush. He wore jeans and a black T-shirt that clung to his amazing body. And his trademark cowboy hat.

  “What the hell, man? I heard a yell. You okay?” He studied Brad, taking in the lack of shirt and shorts. “Dude, it’s barely eleven. You going to bed this early on a Saturday night? You loser—” He caught sight of Avery and did a double take. Then he looked back at Brad. And grinned so wide it was a wonder he didn’t break his jaw. “Hi, Avery.”

  “Be right back.” She hurried down the hallway, hearing a low murmur of male voices, and put her bra back on along with a pair of shorts should her nightshirt ride up. Then she rejoined the guys in the living room.

  “You’re looking good,” Tex told her, still smiling, sitting in a chair next to Brad on the couch.

  “Yeah, yeah. Save all the innuendo for when I’m not around.”

  Brad sighed and patted the spot next to him. Avery sat, surprised when he curled his arm around her and dragged her closer.

  Tex made a suspicious noise.

  Avery frowned. “Did you just chortle? With glee? Like an evil villain when his plot comes together?”

  He cleared his throat. “I might have.”

  “Okay, so why are you here?” Brad asked, sounding bored. “I thought you had a hot date?”

  “It fell through. And it was nothing compared to what this probably is.” Tex studied Avery, no doubt seeing her blush. “That was some yell, son.”

  “Tex…”

  Tex’s grin dropped. “I’m in trouble. No, we’re in trouble.”

  Brad straightened in his seat, and Avery wriggled for some space. “What happened?”

  “Pets Fur Life is worse off than we thought. They’re close to losing the shelter they’ve been using. I guess their bookkeeper made some mistakes, and they need s
ome big money fast. I just got the news.”

  “Oh man.” Brad eased back.

  Avery felt awful. Did Gerty know? “I can do a bigger spot in Searching the Needle Weekly for donations.”

  “Yeah, that will help.” Tex frowned. “But I kind of pulled a few strings to come up with something bigger. Something faster.”

  “What?” Brad and Avery asked at the same time.

  Tex grinned. “That is too cute. Makes me glad I came to you even though I interrupted your secret love nest.” He pushed his hat back and lounged in the chair like he owned it. Tex sprawled and moseyed, as if the weight of Texas made it too difficult to move fast or sit in a confined space.

  “Tex,” Brad growled. “What are you talking about with bigger and faster?”

  “Well, not you, hombre.”

  Avery snickered. “Sorry, that was funny. And you’re blushing.”

  Brad glared, which started Tex laughing.

  “Okay, sorry,” Tex apologized when Brad threatened to throw him out. “A photographer I know is willing to take some pics of us looking all manly. She’s gonna put pets with us and turn the pics into a calendar we can sell to make money for the shelter.”

  Avery smiled. “That’s a terrific idea! But will your department go for it?”

  Brad sighed. “If it’s tastefully done and for Pets Fur Life, yes, because the mayor loves the charity as much as he loves Station 44. Who’s this friend, Tex?”

  Tex fiddled with his hat. “She’s just a photographer I know.”

  Brad watched him a moment and swore. “Seriously? Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?”

  Avery looked from one man to the other. “Hey, inquiring minds want to know. Who are you talking about?”

  Tex groaned. “My archnemesis.”

  “Wow, you have one too?”

  Brad snorted. “You are such a nerd, Avery.”

  “And this is why you’re my ex-nemesis.”

  “I am?”

  “Not the point.” She turned from Brad. “Tex, tell me.”

  Tex sounded so forlorn Avery had to fight the urge to pat his knee in sympathy. In a thick Texan accent, he explained, “She’s this gorgeous, long-legged looker. Blond, stacked. Got eyes big and blue, eyelashes a calf would envy. We had one date, then she done broke my heart.”

  “Laying it on pretty thick, aren’t you, hoss?” Brad rolled his eyes.

  Tex looked at Avery with such sadness, she almost believed him.

  She cleared her throat. “The truth?”

  Brad shook his head. “Loverboy was on a date with her when an ex showed up and threw water in his face for two-timing her. He lost the ‘long-legged looker’ faster than he could spit.” Brad chuckled. “To make it even worse, the woman is Brianna Gilchrist, professional photographer and…” He motioned for Tex to fill in the blank.

  “Daughter of our battalion chief,” Tex muttered.

  Avery cringed. “That can’t be good.”

  “It’s not.” Tex sighed. “For the record, the woman who claimed I was two-timing her wasn’t my gal. We went on two dates and broke up way before I ever met Bree, but she wouldn’t let go. Bree wouldn’t believe me when I told her the truth, so I had to cut my losses and tend to my broken heart.”

  “Oh, Tex. That’s rough.” She could hear the frustration beneath his teasing. He didn’t sound over the woman.

  “So rough he found a new girlfriend a week later,” Brad drawled.

  “To mask the hurt, Brad. To mask the hurt.” Tex sighed. “So anyhow, I begged and made a nuisance of myself. Bree said she’d do the calendar, but she gets to approve the models. I mentioned you, Mack, me, and Reggie.”

  “Oh.”

  Avery looked from one man to the other. “What’s wrong?”

  “Reggie will hate it. He always claims he’s too real to be a beefcake.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, right. The sight of you four with no shirts holding puppies will sell through the roof.” She considered Tex. “Wear the hat. Trust me.”

  Tex brightened. “I can do that.”

  Brad frowned at her. “You think Reggie’s beefcake material?” He paused, his eyes narrowed. “Tex too?”

  Tex watched, captivated.

  Brad obviously remembered her comment about a date with Tex he’d ruined. “You’re all amazing,” Avery said to reassure him. “But you’re the best, Brad.” She batted her eyelashes and laughed when he grunted.

  “Just remember that.”

  Tex stared. “Wait. Brad Battle, jealous? Oh my God. I can’t wait to tell—”

  “No one.” Brad stood and loomed over his friend. “Avery and I are taking this slow. We don’t need an audience. I’m already in front of everyone with that stupid morning show.” He stopped and turned to stare at her. “I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.”

  She waved him away. “I get you.” But that hurt. She’d started to warm to the show, enjoying her repartee with Brad. Even though she’d complained about it, she’d also started to seriously consider Emil’s idea of a weekly spot on their web channel.

  Brad hauled Tex out of his seat and shoved him toward the door. “Okay, we’ll help. I’m in. Avery will do what she can to help promote it, right?” He looked back, saw her nod, and said to Tex, “And I’ll get Reggie on board. But you have to do the rest.”

  “Thanks, man. And sorry for interrupting whatever it was that made you yell so loud.”

  Avery refused to look at Tex, pretending to focus on her toenails that needed a new color. Maybe yellow for spring?

  Brad muttered something that had Tex laughing before throwing his friend out the door.

  He returned to her and sat next to her once more, dragging her over him for a kiss. “I didn’t mean to call the show stupid, Avery.”

  She buried her head in his chest so he wouldn’t see her hurt. “I know.”

  “No, you don’t. I can tell.”

  She raised her head. “You know me that well, huh?”

  He gave her a slow, satisfied smile. “You know, I think I do.”

  She huffed. “Whatever.”

  “Now how about I show you exactly why I yelled when you put that cold, cold mouth over my cock? I imagine you’ll feel the same when my cold lips cover that clit.”

  She went from annoyed to aroused in a heartbeat. “You did that on purpose so I won’t be mad at you. Which I’m not,” she hurried to tack on. “The Friday morning spot is no big deal.”

  “Uh-huh.” His fingers worked under her nightshirt to her shorts and dug between her legs. His slow smile made it worse. “Just the way I like you. Hot and wet.”

  “Brad.”

  “Go get the vanilla fudge. And hurry.”

  * * *

  The next morning, an exhausted Avery took a healthy breath outside Brad’s apartment building, needing the fresh air to clear her mind and body. She’d showered and dressed in shorts and a sweatshirt and waited for Brad to return with coffee—who the hell ran out of fresh coffee beans in Seattle?—so they could share before heading back to her place to check on his brother and Gerty. Why? Because they were nosy like that.

  All Avery had received in reply from her texted question mark to Gerty had been a texted-back ogre emoji. Which could mean one of two things. Gerty was comparing Oscar to her much-loved ogres—which she found sexy—or the man was a figurative ogre, as in Brad used to be a troll.

  She decided she’d had enough of the cool midmorning and returned inside to Brad’s door, only to realize she’d locked herself out.

  She glared down at her bare toes in flip-flops, now feeling the chill, and heard a door open and shut down the hallway. Great. Should she pretend to be waiting outside his door or dart down a nearby stairwell and hide? At least she looked somewhat presentable. What felt like an eternity later, an elderly woman wal
king with a cane, moving slower than dirt, stopped beside her.

  “You casing the joint?” she asked.

  “Ah, no. I got locked out.”

  The woman, who had to be in her eighties at least, had a gravelly voice and a pointed stare. She wore sweatpants, Nike high-tops, and a USMC Does It Best sweatshirt.

  “It’s a new look. Like it?” The woman’s watery blue eyes smiled though her firm lips didn’t give.

  “I do.”

  The woman cackled. “I’m Tilly, the landlady. So, you’re Brad’s girl, eh?”

  “Um, well, we’re kind of dating. Yes.”

  “Kind of?”

  Avery felt all of five years old. Fighting her blush, she nodded. “Yes, we’re dating.”

  “Well, come on, then. You can wait with me in my place or call him from my phone to verify you’re really dating and not some girl with a vendetta.”

  Her eyes widened. “He has those?”

  “Not that I know of. You could also be some animal lover.” Tilly’s eyes narrowed. “Are you?”

  “I, uh, well, I like animals.”

  “You have any in there?”

  “Animals? No.”

  Tilly eyed her up and down. “Why aren’t you in church? God loves prostitutes too, you know.”

  Avery gaped. “What?”

  “Not a working girl. Check.” Tilly snorted. “I’m kidding. Come on.”

  “I’m not a prostitute.” Avery wanted to make that quite clear…and decided to have a chat with her new boyfriend as soon as possible. Tilly thinks I might be a hooker?

  “Obviously. Brad’s fussy. Besides, you look like you’re going out for a stroll, not out to roll a man. ’Course, that would be a refreshing change for the johns of Seattle, now, wouldn’t it?”

  Avery walked slowly, ready to catch the older woman should her cane not hold her. For all her bold words, Tilly seemed frail.

  They walked even slower down the stairwell at the end of the hall before entering Tilly’s apartment, a decent two-bedroom unit Tilly had one more of, should Avery be interested. “That’s if you’re not gonna shack up with Brad. I mean, I never see him with women around here.”