Burn Me Anthology

by Shantel Tessier

  She twists the lid and takes a swig straight from the bottle. “Anyway.” She breathes, coming up for air. “I’m over it,” she says matter-of-factly, lifting her chin. “I mean, I wasn’t that upset about it anyway.” She shrugs.

  “But he lied to you.” Spring places her hands on her hips. “That alone would make me say something to him.”

  “What is there to say?” she asks, lifting the bottle. “He wasn’t happy with me. Now, he’s happy with someone else.” Then she takes another swig.

  I sit back, waiting for her to look over at me. Right now, she is facing Spring, and I get a profile view of her. My eyes look down at her legs again and the few water drops run down her thigh. I lick my lips, wondering what it would taste like to drink them off her. Would it taste cool? Or would the heat from her body warm them up?

  My eyes travel upward to her ass and the way it curves in her short denim shorts. Those scrubs did nothing for her. She’s about five-foot-five. Maybe. If I had to guess, I’d say around one hundred and twenty pounds. Her white shirt sticks to her flat stomach and chest, showing me that not only is her body sexy as fuck, but her boobs are also bigger than I had initially thought.

  I hear a man clear his throat, and I look up to see who did it. Brayden is staring right at me, and I can’t help but smile as he shakes his head at the way I look her over.

  I look away first and then return my eyes on her, not caring what he thinks of me or my intentions. We both know there’s nothing pure about them.

  Raegan

  “You should call him,” Spring demands. “Tell him to burn in hell.”

  I shake my head. “That would make me look like I care. And I don’t,” I say. I might have overreacted when I saw him kissing the strawberry blonde. I don’t know for sure that he was cheating on me with her. Maybe it just took him a lot less time to fall in love with her than it did with me. But for some fucking reason, it still hurt to see it.

  She spins around and points a finger at Brayden’s chest. “You cheat on me, and I will not let you off that easily.” Then she storms out of the kitchen.

  “Babe?” he calls out to her. “I would never …” he says, following her. She went through a nasty divorce about six months ago. She had married her high school sweetheart, who ended up leaving her with a ton of credit card debt when he ran off to Hawaii with his secretary. Her attorney sucked ass. I could have gotten her more if I had represented her.

  I snort. “That’s what they all say,” I mutter before taking another drink of the Fireball.

  “Not all men lie.”

  I turn to look over at the man who just spoke, and the cinnamon-flavored alcohol that fills my mouth spews out in a fountain-like display when I see it’s the cocky bar fight man from the hospital. I would never forget those dark gray eyes framed with high cheekbones and a chiseled jaw. And I just spit all over him.

  “Oh, my God!” I cover my mouth quickly in embarrassment as the shock of seeing him here wears off. “I’m so sorry,” I say, wiping what covers my chin.

  “No worries,” he says, picking up a towel from the counter and handing it to me. I forget that my shirt is covered in my own spit and start rubbing the towel on his gray shirt that now looks like he just stood out in the rain.

  He laughs deeply, and it makes his muscles ripple under my hands as I wipe him frantically. It doesn’t help. “I’m so sorry,” I say again, looking up at him.

  His dark gray eyes stare at me with amusement. “Seriously. Don’t worry about it,” he says with a chuckle. “Not the first time I’ve been spit on.”

  I lick my lips and taste the leftover Fireball and then place the bottle on the countertop.

  “Bad night, huh?” he asks, nodding at the bottle.

  “Not necessarily bad. Just … unexpected,” I say.

  He tilts his head to the side, that amusement gone and his voice now serious as he says, “I would say finding out your fiancé has been cheating on you would make for a bad night.”

  “How did you know …?”

  “I overheard.”

  God, how long was he standing there? I try to run a hand though my hair, but the wet tangles stop me from making it to the ends. I catch him looking at my hand, and a slow smile spreads across his face. “What …?” I ask, looking at my left hand.

  “You were wearing your ring at the hospital,” he says, and my brows rise. Observant, isn’t he? “Guess it didn’t work out.”

  “Nope.” I’m pretty sure the conversation he just heard made that pretty clear.

  “I can’t say I’m sorry,” he says, crossing his large arms over his chest.

  “Me either,” I say, looking away from him.

  A silence comes over us as I look around the kitchen. The countertops are white with a gray backsplash, and the darker gray paint on the walls reminds me of his eyes. All the appliances are stainless steel, and everything is spotless. A black table sits in the corner by a window that has curtains matching the walls. It almost makes me laugh at how put together this house looks compared to my apartment.

  “How long were you together?” he asks, and my eyes go back to him.

  “Four years.”

  He nods as if he truly cares about my doomed relationship. “Engaged …?”

  “Two.”

  His brows lift. “Long engagement?”

  I shrug. “I just never took the time to plan the wedding.” There were so many signs. How did I not see them?

  “Are you seeing anyone now?” he asks.

  I eye him skeptically. “No,” I say slowly. He gives me a charming smile, showing off his dazzling white teeth. “Why?” I can’t help but ask.

  “I wanna take you out,” he says simply. “On that date. Just you and me,” he adds.

  “You don’t want to do that,” is all I can think to say. He’s very attractive. Okay, he’s the sexiest guy I’ve ever seen. He has those gray eyes that you read about in romance novels. His jaw chiseled, and his dark brown hair styled in that way that begs for my fingers to run through it. His deep, sexy voice alone makes me break out in goose bumps. His body screams, dominating. Like he could pick me up, throw me on the bed, and ravish me. And that thought makes my legs tighten, but he’s not what I need. Not right now. Steve made me realize that I’m not ready for a relationship. Right now, I’d rather be alone than have a man.

  “Know what I’m thinking, do you?” he asks with a tilt of his head.

  “No, I just …”

  He pushes off the counter and takes a step toward me, and I close my lips in silence. “Tell me something,” he says, his voice dropping seductively so only I can hear him.

  “What?” I ask, feeling my heart beat faster at his closeness. His tight gray shirt is still covered in my spit and Fireball, and I wish I could reach the bottle at the moment to take another drink.

  “Tell me you’ll go out with me.”

  “Why would you want to do that?” I breathe.

  He takes another step toward me. I can smell his cologne, and it just makes my knees weak at the strength behind it. I lean my head back to look him in the eyes. He’s tall, well over six foot, and I hate that I don’t have heels on. “Because I think you’re gorgeous, and I want to get to know you.”

  I swallow as I feel a knot form in my stomach. His eyes bore into mine, and I look at him in pure amazement. Did Steve do me a favor by breaking up with me? The answer is literally staring me in the face. “What do you want to know?” I can’t help but ask.

  “Besides if you are free for dinner?” I nod once. “Everything,” he adds.

  “I’m an open book,” I say almost in a trance from the way his eyes stare shamelessly into mine and the sound of his voice.

  He smirks. “Somehow, I doubt that.” His eyes break free of mine and slowly sweep over me. My pulse races, the Fireball not the only thing warming my body when he licks his lips. Then his eyes meet mine again. “You need to get out of those clothes.”

  Holy shit!

  He
wants to have sex. I’ve never been one to sleep around, but if I had to choose between a date or sex, I’d choose sex.

  That thought has my breath catching, imagining him reaching out and removing my shirt and then my shorts. “I do,” I agree.

  His lips pull back, showing off a million-dollar smile. He steps into me, and I grab his shirt, afraid I may fall if he doesn’t hold me up. My heart pounds as he lifts his hands to cup my face. “You’re wet,” he whispers before licking his lips, and my pussy tightens.

  Am I that obvious? “Yes.” I can’t even form a full sentence. I swear the room is spinning, and I can hear my pulse pounding in my ears. No man has ever had this effect on me before.

  “Come on,” he says, pulling away from me, and my hands drop to my sides like they weigh a hundred pounds. He takes my hand, and then he’s leading me out of the kitchen. I follow him through the living room, my heart still pounding. I’m gonna sleep with him. I’ve made up my mind. Sex it is.

  I spot Spring and her boyfriend in the entryway talking amongst themselves. She looks pissed, and he looks worried. I hope my breakup doesn’t affect them. I know she has trust issues after what her ex-husband did to her. I don’t blame her, though. But her relationship was much different than my relationship with Steve. I actually feel sorry for her boyfriend because he’s constantly gonna have to prove himself.

  I follow Karter down to the end of a hallway, and he enters a door on the right. He flips on a light, and I grab the hem of my shirt and pull it over my head without thought. I may not be a whore, but I’ve never been shy. I’m already undoing my jean shorts when he comes out of his bathroom holding a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt in his hands. He comes to an abrupt stop when he sees me half naked. His already dark gray eyes darken when they land on my breasts.

  I stand motionless, heart still pounding confused about what is happening. I want to put my shirt back on, but I can’t seem to move.

  When his eyes meet mine, I watch his Adam’s apple bob when he swallows.

  “I … uh …” Fumbling, I’m trying to think of what to say.

  “You’re wet,” he says roughly.

  I thought we had already established that.

  He gestures to the clothes in his hands. “Your clothes are wet,” he corrects himself, and I finally understand what he meant while standing in the kitchen.

  My face reddens in embarrassment. Shit! Of course, he wasn’t into me. I’m not his type. Remember the blonde from the hospital? God, I was gonna sleep with him and forgot he wasn’t available. Get your shit together, Raegan! “You need to change …”

  “Thank you.” I say, yanking the shirt free of his grasp. I immediately slip it over my head. It’s too big, but it’s better than being shirtless in front of this man I have made an ass of myself. If only I had more alcohol, then at least I’d have an excuse.

  His eyes stare at my chest again as if I’m still topless, and I look around the bare room to avoid his stare and ignore my pounding heart. It’s just as spotless as the kitchen was. There’s a bed in the middle. Dark brown wood. One tall dresser over against the far wall and a TV hanging on the wall. That’s it. No pictures. No throw pillows. No rug. It’s bare.

  “How long have you lived here?” I ask, rocking back on my heels as he continues to stand there staring at me. It feels like he’s undressing me with his eyes, and I hate how much I like it. I never felt this way with Steve. Like there were butterflies in my belly.

  “Three years,” he responds, clearing his throat.

  I nod as I watch him regain himself. He takes a step toward me and holds out the sweatpants. I stand there staring at the way his gray t-shirt pulls against his chest and shoulders. My eyes note the way his jeans sit on his narrow hips and hug his muscular thighs. I’ve never seen a man in such great shape. Does he spend hours at the gym a day?

  I look away from him and see a gun sitting on his nightstand. “Are you a police officer?”

  “No. Why?” he asks but doesn’t seem to care that I want to know something about him.

  I nod toward the gun on display and add, “Your friend who you were talking to at the hospital. You said you knew him from work.” He had been in uniform.

  He nods. “Right. No. I’m not. Eddie is just a friend, and that’s just for protection. I never go anywhere without it. I’m a firefighter.”

  A pain forms in my chest at those words, and my breath is momentarily taken away. Any arousal I felt for him moments ago is now gone.

  He must see it written on my face because his hands grab my shoulders. “Are you okay?” he asks, worry in his voice.

  I nod quickly and look away. “Yeah. Just cold.” I lie, sucking in a long breath.

  He lets go of me, and my eyes catch his again. As much as I wanna look away, his gaze brings me back. He knows I’m lying, but he doesn’t call me out on it. “I’ll leave you to change,” he says after a long moment and walks out, shutting the bedroom door behind him.

  I let out another long breath and go to his bathroom to splash some cold water on my face.

  Chapter 4

  Karter

  I return to the kitchen while Raegan changes in my bedroom. Her best friend, Spring, and Brayden are making out by the fridge. Their fight now over. The guys sit in the living room laughing and hollering every now and then as they continue to watch YouTube videos of cars racing and whatever other bullshit they can find.

  I keep my eyes on the hallway, waiting to see her come out of my bedroom. The fact she’s back there undressing is doing more for me than it should.

  The way she let me get close to her had my cock hardening. The way she looked up at me with those big blue eyes as if she was in a trance had me wanting to kiss her. And what was she thinking? Did she think I was gonna do her right then and there? I was totally fucking with her, and she thinks she was wrong. She’s not. I was talking about her being wet in more ways than one. And she confirmed it.

  I can’t lie. I’m not sorry her fiancé was a fucking douche. His loss will be my gain. And I wasn’t lying when I told her I wanted to know everything about her. Besides her favorite color and thing to eat, I also wanna know what she feels like underneath me. What her mouth feels like wrapped around my cock. And the way she cries out when she comes.

  I’m not the type of guy who beats around the bush. If I see something I want, I do what is necessary to get it. I’m not afraid of hard work, and failure has never been an option. The question is, how hard is she gonna make me work for it? How long will it take her to get over the cheating, lying ex? By the way she looked at me earlier, not long.

  I hear the door to my bedroom open over the noise in the living room, and moments later, she walks into view. Her hair is still down, but she must have dried it off the best she could with a towel. It’s no longer soaked but just damp. My sweatpants swallow her small frame and are so long you can’t even see her feet. She still has my t-shirt on that reads Station #22 across the front of it. And my cock hardens at the memory of her nude bra hidden behind it.

  She enters the kitchen, and I ask. “Better?”

  “Yes. Thank you,” she says, coming to a stop in the kitchen. She turns to look over the open bar area at the men yelling in the living room. A woman half-dressed fills my seventy-inch TV. “Are they watching porn?” she asks, turning back to face me.

  “Not sure,” I say honestly.

  She laughs, and I can tell she’s nervous now. “Where are all the women anyway?” she asks, looking around at the fifteen men who occupy the house. Her best friend is the only other woman here besides her.

  “It was supposed to be a guys’ night.”

  She bites her bottom lip nervously. “I’m sorry,” she replies softly.

  “Don’t be. I’m not.”

  She blushes and looks down at the floor. When her eyes come back up to meet mine, my cock reminds me her clothes are sitting on my bedroom floor.

  “Your girlfriend is okay with your guys’ night?” she asks.
/>   My girlfriend? “I don’t have a girlfriend,” I state.

  She pops her right hip out and all but rolls her eyes. I can’t help but smile at her as I look her over again. She looks so sexy in my clothes. When my eyes meet hers again, they’re narrowed on me as if she knows what I’m thinking. “The blonde who was all over you at the hospital?”

  I laugh. “She was not my girlfriend. She was a blind date that night.”

  “Oh …” she says, not knowing what else to say to that. “Well …”

  “That was the first and last time I have seen or spoken to her.” Kandy only thought I was worth her time after I beat the shit out of a few men. I still wasn’t interested.

  “What were your plans for tonight?” I ask, changing the subject. She’s thinking I have a girlfriend, and all I can think of is throwing her over my shoulder and hauling her off to my room again, but this time, I wouldn’t let her get dressed.

  “Get drunk,” she says honestly.

  I laugh. “Well, then …” I turn around and grab her Fireball off the counter and hand it to her. “Don’t let me stop you.”

  “Would you like a drink?” she asks.

  I shake my head. “No, thank you.”

  ***

  An hour later, the men are louder than ever as they watch fucking cat videos on my TV. How they ended up on that type of pussy, I’ll never know. My eyes have been glued to Raegan. She and Spring have finished off the Fireball and moved on to a bottle of champagne I found in my fridge out in the garage that one of the guys must have brought over.

  They’re both drunk.

  Her hair falls down over her shoulders now completely dry. She hasn’t quit smiling since they hit halfway on the Fireball, and I can’t help but laugh every time Brayden tries to take the bottles from them.

  I like the way she laughs. It sounds effortless.

  Spring throws her arm over Raegan’s shoulders. “You … are so … much better … without him,” she slurs.

  Raegan shrugs the best she can since the weight of Spring’s arm is holding her shoulders down. “I’m really okay,” she tells her and then takes a drink from the champagne bottle.