Teased by Fire

by Molly O'Hare

  He wasn’t going to let that happen. Again.

  Hank knew the second he walked in late the guys would start to hound him and making bets about what he’d lost.

  Rolling his eyes, his face hardened. Fuck them, he was not giving them any ammo.

  Moving his search into the living room he noticed Olive’s stuff was laid out on the coffee table. A smile spread across his face.

  He couldn’t help but enjoy the fact Olive had made more of an effort to come out of her room. Sure, he pulled back on his pranks. Kind of. He smirked. It was in his nature to tease her, always had been and always would. However, he made sure to stay clear of her books. He learned his lesson the first time.

  The image of her broken on the couch still haunted him.

  He scanned the room for her but came up empty.

  He was however a little surprised she’d left her computer out in the open. That was the one thing he still questioned about her. Even though she came out of her room more, it was still like living with a ghost.

  She’d either have her head in a book, or she’d be on her computer.

  He’d even tried to have conversations with her, but whatever she was doing had her so engrossed, he was sure a bomb going off wouldn’t tear her away.

  Hank scratched his chin. After weeks, his curiosity was starting to get the better of him.

  What was she always doing on her computer?

  When he’d ask her, he’d get the brush off every time.

  However… Hank looked around the room again.

  No Olive.

  A quick glance at his watch told him he was down to eight minutes. Shit! Should he risk it?

  He heard a bottle fall in the bathroom. That explains where she is.

  Hank did another glance around the room, in his gut knowing what he was about to do was wrong.

  Fuck it. He moved the laptop, his lost keys totally forgotten. Right now, he was on a mission to see just exactly what his little wallflower had been up to.

  Hitting one of the keys the computer roared to life causing his brows to raise as soon as the desktop showed. Why wouldn’t she have a password on here? he questioned. Ignoring his instinct to inform her about cybersecurity, he opened her program that had recently been minimized.

  Chapter Eight- Sky watched as Darren moved across the room towards her. A determination in his eyes, she had never seen before.

  “Repeat what you just said, Sky.” His voice was dark and possessive. Heat poured into her core. She wouldn’t let him see how he affected her though. He wouldn’t win this time.

  “Don’t make me ask you again, Sky. Repeat what you said.”

  Squaring her shoulders Sky took a breath. Crossing her arms over her chest she spoke, “Make me.”

  Darren was in front of her in seconds. “Don’t push me, Sky.”

  Jutting her chin out, she looked him in the eyes. “Make. Me.”

  Darren slammed his lips onto hers. His possession started to over take her as he cupped her cheeks in his hand. “Open,” he demanded. When she didn’t he bit her bottom lip. The sensation had her gasping for air while he took full advantage to plunder her mouth.

  Every nerve ending in his body was on fire.

  He pushed her back until her body landed against the nearby wall. Her legs instantly wrapped around his waist, where he ground his dick into her core.

  “Harder,” she pleaded, her hands tearing at his clothes. “Make me yours, Darren.”

  “You’ve always been mine, you stubborn woman. And, I’m about to remind you.”

  Hank’s eyes widened as he skimmed the rest of the page. Holy fucking shit! He looked down at his hand, who’d gotten a mind of its own as it cupped his dick.

  Jerking his hand away, he did his best to make sense of what he’d discovered.

  Minimizing the program, he saw a folder on the desktop titled, “Published Books,” opening it, he found it full of documents.

  Holy. Fucking. Shit.

  He moved his eyes to the bathroom door.

  Everything finally clicked into place as he looked down at the folder once again.

  Chapter Six

  Hank laid on his cot in the station as his mind tried to process the information he’d found. In all the years he’d known Olive Quinn he’d never pictured her as an erotic romance author. Hell would have frozen over first. Who knew his anti-social, refused to show any hint of skin, Olive would make a career out of writing books about fucking?

  Olive Oil had two sides. The side she showed everyone, and the one she kept hidden away.

  Lust flared inside of him. He wanted to explore this other side of Olive. The forbidden side.

  Fuck he wanted to explore every side of her.

  Holy shit.

  The moment he walked into the station house, he searched her author name on his phone. So far, he’d discovered fifteen books, a website, and all of her social media handles.

  How had she been able to hide this all so well? No matter how many times he tried to grasp at the knowledge he’d found, he’d end up dumbfounded all over again.

  A smirk spread across Hank’s face. His double agent had some explaining to do. And, he was damn well looking forward to it.

  He started exploring through her social media links. When he saw the number of followers she had, his mouth nearly hit the floor.

  His little Olive Oil had herself a following. He couldn’t help the smile that spread across his face as his heart swelled with pride.

  As he scanned through her news feed, he found a plethora of posts. Some included new books and some random pictures with quotes on them. If he were being honest, he was one-hundred percent surprised at what he saw. Who knew one crash course in woman’s romance would have his mind opening up to a world he knew nothing about.

  Hank let his eyes scan further down the feed until a picture with flames caught his eye. There in front of him was a man dressed in his turnout gear minus the jacket. Actually, he had no shirt on at all, only his bunker pants with suspenders, with the guy flexing his abs.

  Didn’t this schmuck know how ridiculous he looked? Who the fuck dressed in their gear like that? Idiot.

  Hank rolled his eyes as he continued his perusal of the photo. There was also a woman on her knees in front of the idiot firefighter, her naked back the only thing in view. The words, “Who said fire play was dangerous?”

  “Fire is dangerous and no one should play with it,’ he scoffed before he clicked on the link taking him to an eBook store. Once on the page he started to read the synopsis. When he finally realized what this story was truly about, his mouth curved into a smile. “A firefighter story… interesting.” Very interesting.

  Hank felt his body involuntarily move closer to his phone as he moved from the blurb to the reviews.

  Five scorching hot stars! Was the first one he came across, followed by, Quinn Sparks has done it again! Who knew a fireman’s hose could be used so many different ways?

  Hank chuckled, if Olive wanted to know just how many ways a fireman’s hose could be used, he’d gladly enlighten her. Skimming through the rest of the reviews, he saw the same things. She’s my favorite author…. I loved this book… and so on and so forth.

  He scratched his chin as he contemplated her use of a firefighter story. Maybe, just maybe, there was a chance for him yet.

  “First you come in late and now you’re lazing around fucking off on your phone?” Lucas bellowed as he made his way into the room.

  Hank pushed himself into a seated position as he smirked at his friend. “Jealous?”

  “Why would I be jealous of you? You’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached.” Lucas sat in a nearby chair pulling out his phone mindlessly going through it. “I must say though, Tank, I’m surprised you even know where your phone is.”

  “I didn’t lose my phone, numb-nuts. I couldn’t find my keys,” Hank corrected as a matter of fact. His shoulders squared, as he stared at his friend, ready for the challenge.

 
Lucas’ eyes lit as a mischievous smile spread across his face. “Rick owes me twenty bucks. Thank you, Hank the Tank.”

  Hank’s eyes hardened. “Fuck you.”

  “Nah, you ain’t my type.” Lucas nodded his head towards Hank’s device. “What’s got you so engrossed there, Tank?”

  “Porn,” Hank replied without missing a beat.

  Lucas laughed before shaking his head. “For looking at porn, you’re in a grump ass mood.”

  He looked back at his phone. Hank couldn’t deny it, he was in a mood. Wouldn’t anyone be after finding out the woman they’ve pined over for years fucking writes shit like this?

  His eye twitched, and what kind of name was Quinn Sparks?

  Sighing he pushed his annoyance down. He still couldn’t wrap his head around it. How had he gone so long without knowing? Her first book was published four years ago.

  Four. Fucking. Years. Ago.

  He had so many questions. Olive Quinn, wallflower, anti-social, curvy as fuck, was a closeted sex goddess extraordinaire.

  Closing his eyes, his imagination took on a mind of its own. He pictured himself on the cover of her book. Olive would be on her knees, looking up at him, in his turnout gear. He’d see the lust seeded deeply in her eyes as she begged him to release his hose…

  “Dude, fuck man, no one wants to see your stiffy.” Hank had no time to react before being hit with a magazine. “Put that thing away.” Lucas stood cringing.

  Hank glanced down his body and sure enough, his pants had a bulge. He wasn’t surprised. Olive had always got his body going. However, since finding out about her double life, he clearly was no longer able to control it.

  Fuck it, he shrugged.

  Lucas walked out of the room, throwing his thumb over his shoulder towards Hank. “Don’t go in there unless you want an eyeful of Tank wankin’ his little Hank!”

  “Fuck you, Luke,” Hank hollered after him as he laughed.

  Ignoring the commotion coming from the other room, and with a smile on his face, Hank returned to the task at hand.

  Hovering his finger over the purchase link, he bought the book. Along with every other book she’d published.

  There is so much I don’t know about my little Olive Oil, he thought as the books downloaded onto his phone. He clicked on the first one that finished. But I’m about to find out.

  Chapter Seven

  Well, this is wonderful…

  Olive grumbled as she watched Hank once again come home from his most recent shift with his face buried in his phone and head straight to his bedroom before shutting the door.

  Seriously, what the heck?

  Her eyes narrowed as she stared at his closed bedroom door. “Well, fuck you too then.”

  Olive massaged her temples briefly before she grabbed her computer off the coffee table. She didn’t know why she bothered. Her concentration on her words had been shot to hell.

  She still hadn’t figured out what happened between Hank and her. It was like she was non- existent to him now. What happened to all his crap about I want to have a roommate I actually see, and blah blah blah, she mocked.

  She finally gave in and started venturing out of her room and he up and disappears.

  Well, screw you and the horse you rode in on, Hank Parker.

  Olive knew she was overreacting, but there was a part of her, that was hurt. She had thought things were going better between them. And, truth be told she liked having him around. He gave her an insider scoop on the male personality, and she was eating it up. Who knew having first-hand research would be so beneficial. Too bad that gravy train left and she somehow missed the stop.

  Olive huffed before she went back to her computer. There was no sense in getting angry. She’d spent the better part of her life avoiding Hank the stupid Tank, she might as well go back to doing that again.

  No matter how scrumptious he looked, or how when he looked at her, his eyes held a heat she wasn’t sure existed outside of her books.

  Fuck him.

  Fuck him in his fuckity face, if he wanted to ignore her effort of being a better roommate then he could go to hell in a handbasket for all she cared.

  Going back to her computer she focused on her work. As she read over the last few sentences, her mind started to wander, though. Before she knew it, she was picturing Hank playing out her scenes. His body hard and inviting above her as she pleaded with him to make her his…

  Olive closed her eyes when she felt her cheeks heat. Her mind imagined Hank coming out of his bedroom, staring her down as if she were his prey and he was the predator. He’d avidly watch her like she was his only food source.

  She shuddered.

  He’d already demonstrated his power when he picked her up before throwing her onto the couch on day one.

  Her body heated as she bit her bottom lip. Hank… Her mind had him stalking towards her.

  She felt her nipples tighten as her hand took on a mind of its own and started trailing down her body. She was about to reach her destination when the thump on the couch had her eyes shooting open.

  “Ahh!” Her hand went over her chest as she tried focusing on her surroundings.

  Dog deliberately sat next to her staring her down as she licked her lips.

  Moving a few inches away, Olive’s eyes widened. “Good kitty. Nice kitty,” Olive tried reassuring the creature.

  When Dog opened her mouth to yawn, Olive swore she purposely moved her head from side to side showing off her canines.

  Very sharp canines.

  Canines, Olive never wanted to be acquainted with.

  “Dog knock it off.”

  Olive shot her head towards the voice as she saw Hank come out of his bedroom, shirtless again. His phone still in his hand. Why was he so obsessed with his phone right now? Instantly, her anger rose.

  Not only had she let her mind wander to the danger zone, but seeing him still glued to his phone sent a wave of hurt through her.

  Thankfully, Dog must have taken her owners warning to heart because she jumped down and strode over to him. As the creature brushed against Hank’s legs, he bent petting her between the ears.

  I wonder what it would feel like to be pet by him too? She blanched, as her eyebrows shot to the roof. What the sweet zombie hell did I just say?

  Shaking her head to clear her thoughts she remembered she was mad at him.

  Asshole.

  Removing her eyes from the cat, she looked at his face. She saw Hank give her the once-over before turning away and heading into the kitchen.

  He freaking dismissed her again.

  She looked down at herself. Sure, she was kind of a mess. She’d been on a writing binge. Moving her hand to her hair, she cringed as she remembered she hadn’t brushed it in three days. Right now, she was about negative two days on the shower front too. But that didn’t give him the right to look down on her. Doing another once over on herself, she saw her muffin top peeking over her pajama bottoms. She held back her groan.

  No fucking wonder.

  First, she looked like a complete mess, then she had her excess lumps and bumps on display. Maybe she couldn’t blame him for staying clear of her.

  Shaking her head, she tried her best to pat down her angry hair. See this is why I miss Miranda here. I never had to be concerned with my appearance. I wasn't forced to wear a bra, and I could go on three-day writing marathons and not worry about being judged for not taking a shower. But no. Now I’ve got to look presentable in my own freaking apartment. I have to look prim and proper for Hank the stupid Tank to even acknowledge my presence.

  Screw that. Screw him. And while she was at it, screw his jolly green giant sized cat.

  In a quick movement she reached for her drink on the coffee table. That’s when she got a good whiff of herself. “Eww.” Her nose scrunched in disgust.

  Looking around the room she saw Hank still in the kitchen his phone in his face.

  As her annoyance started to rise again, she closed her laptop.
>
  Writing was a lost cause. Olive reached for her phone quickly pulling up Miranda’s number.

  Have I told you lately that I want to murder your brother?

  Within seconds she received a reply.

  Only about every other day. What did he do now? Or was it Dog? Wait, wait don’t tell me. Dog got into your room and stood at the end of your bed sharpening her teeth? What do I win for getting it right?

  Olive rolled her eyes.

  Let me ship your brother back to you. No returns accepted… No, he’s just a pain in my ass. One second, he’s all let’s be roommates and do things together and the next he’s MIA. Which I don’t really mind, I’m on a deadline, but whenever I start writing he reappears and screws everything up.

  Miranda was quick to reply.

  What do you mean he messes with you? Do you want me to give him a stern talking to? What about his hot friends, have they been coming over? Maybe that’s your problem.

  If she only knew her problem revolved around her wandering mind with Hank and not his friends.

  I want it to go back to you being here and not him. I miss the simplicity of it. Come back and save me. I’m needy.

  Olive shook her head. Great now Hank had made her needy. She wasn’t needy, but now that he was in her life, everything had turned upside down.

  Wouldn’t it be great if we could go back to when we were younger? Remember all those nights we’d stay up late watching horror movies and place bets on who was gonna die first?

  A smile appeared on Olive’s face.

  Those were the good old days. The days before Hank the Tank and his monster cat showed up.

  When Olive received the eye roll emoji, she quickly replied.

  What? It’s the truth and you know it.