Burn Me Anthology

by Shantel Tessier

  When I pull up, his car is in the driveway. I get out and head up the walkway to his front door. The sun of this spring California day is warming my back as I knock, causing Blaze to bark frantically on the other side of the door.

  Holding the screen door open with one hand, I look down at my fingernails while I wait for him to answer. I listen, hoping to hear him inside, but all I can make out is the dog barking.

  My protective instincts take over, and I reach for the door handle. Right as I turn the knob, Remi yanks it open. The man looks half asleep and is shirtless, wearing only a pair of gray sweatpants.

  “Jill,” he says with a surprised expression on his face, as surprised as I am to see him shirtless. “Come in.”

  I walk by him, trying not to pay attention to the expanse of muscles and tanned skin he has on display. “Is everything okay?” he asks, and Blaze sniffs then licks my dangling hand, which is itching to touch Remi.

  “I came to ask you the same thing?” His face changes, and he goes bloodless.

  “What do you mean, Jill?” My eyes are on his abs, even though they shouldn’t be, and suddenly, I begin to blink wildly. My brain is processing what it’s taking in. Suddenly, him being late to a shift and missing one are the least of my worries. I want to deny all of the conclusions that are piecing together.

  It has to be a coincidence, right? Then my eyes bounce all around: from his gray sweats to his abs, to his hands . . . to the red couch sitting in his living room. Holy Fuck, I feel like I could crumble.

  Now it all makes sense, this is why he’s ignoring me, and R.J. has gone radio silent since my birthday.

  No! No! No! No! No!

  I repeat the word over and over in my head, hoping that it isn’t true. But before I can mind fuck myself any longer, I take out my phone, needing to be one hundred percent sure before I accuse him. I go into the pictures, which I stupidly sent to my cell phone so I could look at him anytime I wanted, and staring back at me is the one of R.J. in a pair of sweats, these sweats, with his muscular fucking stomach, this stomach, and his hand on the couch, that hand and . . . that couch.

  Remi glances at my phone, and I feel as if my world is falling apart around me. My body sways, and I fight the need to faint. My mouth is dry as I try and grasp on to my reality.

  Chapter 13

  Remi

  “Here sit,” I tell Jill, trying to get her off her feet before she faints and hits the floor. Her eyes are glazed over, and her entire body is limp in my hold as I guide her to my couch. She drops her phone to the floor next to us, showing me the picture I sent her of myself wearing these same fucking pants, sitting on this damn couch. She touches the red leather of my sofa, and I tell her, “I can explain.” But she doesn’t let me. Instead, she wildly shakes her head at me.

  “No! No, you can’t.”

  “Yes, I can.” She glares over at me with a look of pain and remorse written all over her face before it shifts to anger.

  “No!” she bites out. “Why would you do this to me, Remi?”

  Her question makes my mind race faster than a fully loaded seven forty-seven barreling down the tarmac ready for takeoff. I search for a reason, an answer to her question that would justify what I’ve done, but I don’t have one. The truth is I don’t know why I did what I did, but I’m not going to tell her that. So, I say the only thing that comes to mind, the thing I’ve been holding back from her, as both R.J. and Remi.

  “I love you, Jill,”

  “No, Remi, you don’t get to say that to me. Goddamn you!” she screams, placing her head into the palms of her hands. Her body is trembling, and my anxiety shoots to a level I’ve never experienced.

  “But it’s the truth.”

  “So what? Everything else was a lie?”

  “No, every interaction we had as Remi or R.J. was real.”

  “How could you say that? You were pretending to be a fake person.”

  “I planned to tell you.”

  “When? When we ‘met’?”

  “Yes, and I’m sorry that I’ve done this to you, that I was too chicken to be honest with you.”

  “You fucked with my life, with my head, in a way I can’t even process right now.” The look in her eyes is of pure disgust. She is slowly slipping away from me. Not that I ever had her, but for a brief time, it felt as if what we had was real. It was something, and I want to save that.

  Unwilling to let her go, I drop to my knees in front of her and force her to look me in the eyes. I reach for her face, but she swats me away. The disapproval from her hurts, slowing the fire within my heart.

  “Jill, please just hear me out. You can’t deny that we have something.” My hands grip the sides of her waist, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt something or someone more perfect in all my life.

  This time, she doesn’t swat me away.

  “Who? Me and Remi or Me and R.J.?”

  “It doesn’t matter, they are both me.”

  “I can’t even believe you right now.”

  “I know, I’m sorry, Jill.”

  “You could have told me the truth before I sent you all those pictures and we did that.”

  “I was fucked up, you denied me and ignored me when we kissed and then were so into R.J. I didn’t get why, but in all honesty, I didn’t care because I just wanted you any way I could have you.”

  “It was such a violation of my personal integrity. I can’t believe you, Remi.”

  “I know. But you have to know everything I said to you online was the truth.”

  “You can’t say that, Remi, because it wasn’t real. You fucking lied! Don’t you get what you did? Anything that was between us was based on a lie. Is that what you want a relationship based on?”

  “I want you, Jill. Whatever the fucking cost or repercussions are. I want you plain and simple. I’ll quit my job today if it makes you happy. I’ll move away with you. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

  “It isn’t that simple. I don’t know if I want you, Remi.” That one statement kills me. I knew a future for us was unlikely, but I always held on to hope that we had something real. Her words send a frost through my body so cold it numbs me to the core. “I don’t know if I can be with you like that.”

  “What are you saying?” I question her words as they finally burn out the fire within my soul.

  “I’m sorry, Remi,” she says as she slips from my hold and leaves me kneeling in the same spot I just professed my love. I took a shot by telling the truth, went all in and lost it all. I’ve never felt so rejected in all my life. My screen door slams shut behind her, and I just sit like a fucking idiot listening to her car drive away for as long as I can hear it.

  The pain rages inside me, unlike anything I’ve ever known or experienced before, and I have no clue how to make this right or how to make it stop. Not without Jill, I don’t. She was the fire that lived inside me, my purpose, my reason for doing everything I did. Now, here I sit, nothing more than a poor excuse for a man, broken-hearted and alone. I knew I wasn’t good enough, for Jill all along and now she just proved it.

  To be continued .

  For Our Readers

  We truly hope that you enjoyed Jill and Remi’s story. It was such a fun one to write. These two characters are explosive, so we are happy to say this isn’t the end for them. This is just the beginning of one wild ride, with twists and turns along the way that we won’t even see coming.

  The entire Fire story will be released in May 2018. In the meantime, if you loved Abel, he already has his own book, Determinism, and we invite you to check it out. You can download a FREE copy here.

  Lastly, thank you for reading, and we’d love to hear your thoughts. Please consider leaving a review on Amazon. My husband AKA “The Prezident” and I read every single review. It’s the best way to give back to the author after all.

  About the Author

  LK Collins is the naughty alter ego for the husband-and-wife duo behind multiple bestselling and internationa
l bestselling novels. This real-life couple is downright dirty in the bedroom, which bleeds through the pages of their steaming hot stories. While LK writes the books, Mr. Collins, the tattooed god himself, is the mastermind behind so much of the page-turning sexiness.

  If you are looking for a scorching read with chemistry so intense it jumps off the pages, then an LK novel is for you. From stand-alones to series, their stories will have you blushing and panting, ready to reread them the moment you’ve finished. The heroes are alpha, demanding, filthy-talking men that will do anything for their girl…or to get them.

  Check out their website for new releases, author updates, and the latest sales➜ www.authorlkcollins.com

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  HEARTfire

  By Tracie Douglas

  Chapter 1

  Wade

  "Come on, Chief, one more shot." Marco pours the shot before I can decline. My second-in-command looks at me expectantly, while the other guys egg me on.

  I'm not on call tonight, but I'm not a big drinker either. Regardless, I take the shot in hand with a heavy sigh. Hanging with my crew outside the office is a good way to let off steam and boost morale, and we do it often, especially after a big fire. Most of the time coming here to The Broken Tankard, our little town's only bar.

  "This one's for the chief," Marco shouts. The rest of the group nods in agreement. I throw back the shot and glance about the room, ready to make my exit.

  "All right, guys, I think I've had enough for one night," I say, placing the now empty shot glass upside down on the bar. My confession is met with a cacophony of protests, but I slap a bill on the counter, trying to flag down Smithy. "The next one is on me."

  "Aw, come on, Wade. You can't leave now. The fun is just getting started," Jason calls, lifting his longneck in a salute.

  "I'm an old man," I joke, knowing just the opposite. I'm actually the youngest crew chief in the county. At age thirty-two, I've been doing this since I was sixteen.

  "Old, my ass. I've got T-shirts older than you," Hank, the oldest member of the team, speaks up before taking a long pull from his bottle. He's exaggerating, of course. Being only fifteen years my senior, Hank's been in the business the longest. "Don't worry, boss man, if you stick around, I'll take your next shot."

  "Hell yeah," someone shouts, and Marco begins doling out another round of shots, this time setting my glass in front of Hank. I shake my head with a chuckle and plant my ass back onto the stool. I can spare a few moments longer.

  It's been a quiet season so far. Not uncommon for the small rural area we live in, but that doesn't mean I let my guard down. I've seen what can happen when an unexpected fire gets out of hand, and with my men's lives on the line, I don't fuck around.

  "Hey, Wade," Smithy, the owner and tonight's bartender, stops in front of me with an ice tea in hand. He slides it over with a knowing look before heading down to the end of the bar. I look down at the tea in front of me and reach for two pink packets of sugar when the sound of sugary sweet laughter catches my ear.

  Someone's having a good time, I surmise, turning my head out of curiosity, and catch sight of a pretty little redhead. Her head is tipped back, and she's focused intently on the person in front of her. Dragging my eyes away from her, I turn my attention to the person she’s with, and my heart skips a beat.

  The world around her fades away to black until the only thing I see is her, shining brightly in the dark room. Her sultry laughter falls from pink, pouty lips, and I watch diligently as she takes the straw from her drink and wraps them around it, sipping on the contents. Her heart-shaped face is accentuated with eyes the color of sapphires, which twinkle in the dim lighting as she laughs louder at her friend.

  Completely relaxed and at ease with herself. I'm drawn to her, like a moth to the light.

  Mine.

  Her lush body and full breasts are something out of a dream, and the tightening in my pants has me shifting on my stool to hide my growing attraction. She is the opposite of her friend, but she's all woman and exactly my type.

  Her honey-blonde hair falls in waves past her shoulders, hitting the middle of her back. My hands itch to run my fingers through the silken mass. Her creamy skin looks soft and tempting against the soft yellow dress. My mouth waters for a taste.

  My eyes travel down the length of her shapely legs to the fuck-me peep-toe heels. I imagine her legs wrapped around my waist, the heels of her shoes digging into my back.

  I've never been struck like this. Never had a woman affect me this way.

  I don't even know her name.

  Yet.

  Chapter 2

  Vivienne

  When I crack my eyes open, I'm immediately assaulted by the early morning light. Cringing away from it, I pull the blankets over my head and burrow down into the warmth of my bed. The scent of sandalwood and spice fills my nose.

  Wait, what?

  Sandalwood and spice?

  I pull the blanket down and carefully peek out into the room around me. The light hits my eyes, and my head feels like it's going to explode. I silently curse Tori for convincing me to spend the night drinking in celebration. Partying isn’t my thing. I usually prefer my nights off spent with a glass of wine and a good book, but last night I yearned for the adventure of a night out. My days consist of class, a shift at one of my two jobs, and late-night study sessions. But all of that is about to change, since I finished my last final the day before. I'm technically graduated, which was the reason why Tori wanted to go out and celebrate in the first place.

  I lift a hand to shield my eyes and focus on my surroundings.

  What the...

  The first thing I realize is that I'm not in my own room.

  The second thing I realize is that I'm alone. I'm not sure how I got here, or whose room this is, but I've never found myself in this situation. I'm not the kind of girl who wakes in a stranger's bed, even though I did go out last night with the intention of getting drunk and finding a little fun. This is a little more than I anticipated.

  Finally, the last thing I realize is that I'm almost naked under the forest-green sheets I'm buried underneath. Wearing only the fuchsia-colored lace boy shorts I splurged on last week, I grip the sheet tightly against my bare chest, trying not to panic.

  Looking about the room, I notice it's clean. Surprisingly clean. It's quite large as well, double the size of my own bedroom. Not that my two-bedroom apartment is anything to brag about, but this place is like a fucking palace in comparison. The furniture in the room, while definitely masculine, is dark and sized perfectly to fill it. The entire room looks comfortable and lived in.

  I spot my dress draped carefully across the back of a worn-in La-Z-Boy placed in front of a large fireplace and a huge flat screen television.

  Where am I?

  I sit up, pulling the sheet with me to cover my chest, and rack my brain, looking for some memory from the night before that can help me piece all of this together. It's all too fuzzy and disorderly.

  Shit, how drunk did I get last night? A quick rap on the door directly across from me interrupts my thoughts, and before I can respond, it opens and he steps into the room.

  The mere sight of him fills my head with images from the night before, and a few memories of the previous night come rushing back.

  Eyes the color of hardened steel staring at me from the bar. A smirk. A wink. Tall, dark, and handsome. His deep voice. The way his hands felt on my body, on my bare skin. His kiss, the one burned into my brain and onto lips. His taste, his tongue, a
ll of it hitting me at once. Leaving me breathless and needy.

  And now the same hunk stares back at me with his steel-colored eyes and the same smirk plastered to his kissable lips. His hair dark as night glistens in the sunshine, like he just showered. A day's worth of scruff is peppered across his chin, making me want to rub the sensitive nub between my legs against it. I clench my thighs together, ignoring the way my body turns wet at the sight of him.

  Holy fuck. I swallow hard, remembering to breathe as I do so.

  "Good morning," he greets me with a deep voice, filling the quiet room with his sexy timbre. He crosses the threshold with bare feet, carrying a large white mug in his large hand. Against his olive-colored skin, the stark coloring looks luminescent. The scent of freshly brewed coffee hits my nose, and I watch as he crosses the room and places the mug down onto the side table next to me. "Sleep well?"

  "Um… morning." I tighten my hold on the sheets shielding my body from him and hopefully hiding the effect his voice has on my hardening nipples. He chuckles, and his smirk turns sexy, but his eyes study me, missing nothing. He knows the effect he has on me, or any woman for that matter. He's that type of gorgeous. "I think so."

  My eyes feast on him, taking in the way his heather gray T-shirt stretches across his broad chest, accentuating the powerful muscles underneath. Flashes of my hands running along the hard planes distract me momentarily, and I feel my body flush warmer from the memory.

  He cocks an eyebrow and places his large hands against his hips covered by the low hanging jersey knit pants, teasing me with flashes of his perfectly sculpted V. My hands itch to reach out and pull him closer, but I stay frozen in my spot on the bed, struggling to get a handle on my growing desires.