“You need to lie down,” I tell her. I’ve watched her drink a shit ton, but she has yet to get sick. I’m just waiting for it to happen. If she doesn’t, I’ll be surprised.
“You gonna join me?” she asks, her tongue peeking out to run across her teeth before a naughty smile appears on her lips.
“I’d love to,” I say, and her eyes light up as they fall to my hardening cock. Fuck! This was not how tonight was supposed to go! “But not tonight,” I tell her, hating to say the words. All I wanted was for us to be alone, but now that we were, I wish we weren’t. This is a form of torture.
Her smile drops off her face, and she sticks her bottom lip out. “Thought you were interested?”
“I am,” I answer without hesitation.
“When was the last time you had sex?” she asks, tilting her head to the side.
“Why?” I chuckle.
“Can you remember it?” she asks, not answering my question.
“Yes,” I say truthfully. Unlike her piece of shit ex, I don’t see the need to lie.
“Hmm …” she says thoughtfully. “I can’t remember the last time I had sex,” she says, and my brows rise.
She lifts the bottle to her lips again but frowns when she realizes it’s empty. Lowering it back to her side, she sways on her feet, and she blinks a few times. She’s getting tired.
I walk over to her, and I watch as her heavy eyes look me up and down, and then she straightens to her full height. She’s trying to act sober, but she can’t fool me.
Once I reach her, I take the bottle from her hand. “And if we do it tonight, you won’t remember this time either.”
Now that her hands are free, she places them on my chest. She runs them up over my shirt while pushing her hips into mine. I groan in half pleasure and half aggravation at the fact I can’t touch her tonight. Not like I want.
She sighs when she feels how hard I am behind my jeans. “Wanna bet?” she asks, arching a brow in challenge.
I laugh because it’s better than shoving her into the nearest wall and ripping my shirt off her. Setting the empty champagne bottle down on the end table next to me, I can’t help but place my hands on her hips and pull her even closer to me.
“Karter …” She sighs as she sways on her feet. Her arms around my neck start to loosen their grip, and I know what’s about to happen.
“I got you,” I tell her, looking down into her blue eyes. They’re so blue they remind me of the sky on a cloudless day. Her face is free of makeup, and she looks absolutely stunning.
“Take me to bed,” she whispers, before pressing her cheek to my chest.
She yawns, and I smile as she deflates all of a sudden like a balloon. “My thoughts exactly,” I say, before reaching down and placing my arm under her knees. I pick her up and carry her into my room.
I place her in my bed and give her a soft kiss on her forehead. She’s already out to the world. And then like the good guy I am, I turn around and walk into my bathroom, needing a shower.
“Dude, maybe she’s just not interested,” Jakob says, getting my attention.
I shake my head, still sitting on the floor. “She’s interested.”
“Well … maybe she just wants to fuck. There are women out there like that,” he says with a chuckle. “So give her what she wants and send her on her way.”
“I want to take her on a date,” I state.
“Sounds like you’re not gonna get it, man.” He slaps me on the back.
Just as I go to stand from the floor, the sirens go off inside the firehouse, signaling it’s showtime. We all scramble to the firetruck and then jump into our bunker gear. Seconds later, we are on the road to our destination.
“What’s wrong with you Karter?” a man by the name of Mason asks. “You look off your game tonight.” He smirks as we fly down a street, lights flashing and sirens blaring.
“Nothing,” I say, ignoring him. My mind still on Raegan.
“Just ignore him. He’s having woman issues.”
Mason snorts. “Karter? Women problems? That I don’t believe.”
I ignore them as they dog me one at a time and try to get my head where it needs to be. On work and not a brunette who only wants to sleep with me.
We pull up to an old abandoned warehouse. The truck comes to a stop, and we all jump out. The cold night is heated by the flames that lick up the side of the building. Smoke filling the dark night, I put my helmet on, and Chief looks over at me.
“They say it’s empty. But I wanna do a sweep …”
He stops midsentence as a lady runs across the street toward us. Her arms waving in the air, her mouth open in unintelligible screams. “Ma’am, are you okay?” I ask, once she reaches us.
She leans over, placing her hands on her knees as she sucks in a breath. “We need oxygen …” I order, looking her over for burns or any sign of injury.
“No!” She shoots upright. “My son. You have to help him,” she says, tears running down her pale face.
“Where is he?” my chief asks.
“In the warehouse,” she cries, pointing at it.
My eyes swing to him. “You said it was empty.”
“That’s what I was told.”
She shakes her head quickly. “He’s in there. I know it …”
I’m already putting my mask on and running toward the building before she can even finish her sentence.
I kick the door open and duck inside. The smoke filling the room makes it hard to see, and all I can hear is my own breathing inside my mask. Real life fire is nothing like Hollywood portrays it to be. It’s like driving at night with your lights off and blindfolded. I walk through the building, carrying the extra fifty pounds of equipment and suit on my body.
It’s an old warehouse with several floors. The first floor is one big arena-like structure. To the left is a set of stairs; I take them two at a time, calling out for anyone to answer me. I hear my men behind me climbing them as well.
Hitting the landing, I signal for my men to go left while I go right. Splitting up will help us cover more ground faster. This floor is different than the bottom. It’s got a long hallway and rooms, tons of them. The smoke is also thicker up here and makes it harder to see, but after checking a door, I kick them open one after another. With some of them, I have to use an ax. I come to the end of the hallway and open the last door.
“Clear,” I call out into my helmet that holds our intercom.
“We’re clear as well,” I hear Jakob call out.
“Do you guys have access to the third?” I ask.
“Yes, on our way now,” he answers.
“Copy that,” I say to them as I walk over to the back of the room to make sure someone isn’t hiding under the desk.
After getting down to look under the desk, I stand to walk out but come to a stop when I see the fire has crawled its way into the room, blocking my only way out.
“I’m blocked in,” I call into the radio.
“Where are you?” a voice demands.
“Second floor. Northeast corner.”
As I finish saying it, I hear a loud explosion, and the floor under my feet begins to shake.
I fall to the ground to cover my body while speaking into the radio, parts of the ceiling falling around me. “What the hell is going on?” I demand.
“The third floor just collapsed,” I hear Jakob yell into my ear.
“Was it clear?” I demand.
After a long second, I get a response. “Yes. The third floor was clear.”
I stand back up to see the fire is coming closer toward me, and I’m backed up against the wall. The flames make the room hotter by the second. “I’m still trapped,” I remind them.
“Get the hell out of there,” Chief Reynolds yells into my ear. “Is there a window?”
“I have no way …” I turn around to see a window behind the desk. I let out a growl as I shove the heavy desk to the side, causing it to squeak against the floor.
“I
’m jumping out the back window. On the north wall,” I say and then take my ax to break it.
“We’ll have a ladder ready …”
“No time,” I say, watching the fire crawl to me like it wants to drag me into the burning pits of hell. Not today, Ruby, not today.
“Goddammit, Karter …”
I jump out the window as Jakob growls my name in my ear, and I land on my back on something hard with a thud. Landing on my tank momentarily knocks the wind out of me, and a moan escapes me as I suck in a ragged breath. I roll over onto my side to cradle it when I feel like I’m falling again to only come to an abrupt stop for the second time.
“Fuck!” I hiss as a sharp pain runs up my back and neck. I hear a thud as my helmet hits something unforgiving, like concrete, and I’m unable to hold my head up anymore.
I close my eyes and try to take a breath, but that just causes more pain.
***
“You need to go to the hospital,” the male paramedic says, leaning over me as I lie on the ground with broken pieces of glass scattered around me. The dumpster that stopped my second-story fall next to us along with my helmet.
“I’m fine,” I say, sitting up, and grind my teeth to keep from cursing again.
“You’re not. And this isn’t up for debate,” Reynolds says as he leans over me. “Get your ass in the back of that truck.” He points at the ambulance parked over in a parking lot, far away from the fire.
“Did you get the boy?” I ask.
“Turns out, he wasn’t in there.”
“Fucking great news,” I growl through the pain as I make it to my feet. I sway a little, and the paramedic reaches out to steady me. I shove him away.
He starts in on me. “Sir …”
“No!” I snap.
Jakob comes running up to me, his helmet in his hand down by his side. Face covered in sweat and his cheeks red. “You’re going to the hospital,” he says, breathing heavy. “Come on, I’ll go with you.”
“I don’t need to go, and sure as hell don’t need a babysitter,” I say, bending over to stretch out the tightness in my back. Shit, that hurt.
“He’s going to accompany you to make sure you don’t walk out before you’re treated,” Reynolds snaps. He’s a stubborn man, but so am I. I open my mouth to argue when he adds, “We’ve already contacted Saint Mercy. They are expecting you.”
“Okay,” I say and walk my way over to the back of the truck.
Jakob climbs in behind me, along with two paramedics as they shut the back doors. “That’s easier than I thought it would be,” he says, looking me over with narrowed eyes. “Thought I was gonna have to knock you out.”
I shake my head and laugh but stop abruptly when a sharp pain runs up my spine.
“Sir, I need you to remove your gear—” one of the paramedics starts.
“I refuse treatment,” I interrupt him.
Three sets of eyes stare at me for a long moment until the guy says, “But sir, I need to check …”
Crossing my arms in refusal, I repeat, “I refuse treatment.”
“Why would you …?” Jakob stops midsentence when he realizes what I’m doing. “Sneaky little bastard,” he muses.
“I always get what I want.” And I want her.
Raegan
Tonight has been crazy busy in the ER. We’ve had multiple gunshot victims, several car accidents, and two heart attacks.
I just walk behind the nurses’ station to clear a patient out in the computer when a nurse by the name of Becky comes to the front of the desk. “You have a patient requesting you.”
“What room?” I ask, not bothering to look up.
“Eight,” she says and then I hear her walking away.
On nights like tonight, we don’t have time to say more than what is needed. Once I finish entering the information, I make my way over to the room and come to an abrupt stop when I walk in.
There lying on the bed smiling at me is Karter. “What are you doing here?” I ask in surprise. Not because he is here, but because he is dressed in his bunkers.
“Came to see you,” he says simply.
“Well, you need to leave. You shouldn’t be on this bed. I have patients …”
“He is a patient.”
I look over at the man standing also dressed in full firefighter gear with his arms crossed over his chest. I remember him from the first night they were here a while back.
“You’re the patient?” I ask, looking back at Karter.
“Yes, ma’am.” He wiggles his eyebrows in a naughty way. “I’ll take my sponge bath now.”
“Dear God,” his friend mutters and then turns to the door. “I’m leaving the room, but you are staying until she releases you,” he says, pointing a finger at Karter.
I pick up the chart at the end of his bed and read over it. “You’re here, but you’re refusing treatment?”
He swings his legs over the side of the bed and sits up. His jaw tightens, and he lets out a breath as if it hurts him to move. I’m standing by him the next moment, taking his hand and helping him to sit. “What happened?”
“I jumped out of a second-story window,” he says as if he does it all the time.
“Why would you do that?” I ask wide-eyed.
He looks up at me and smiles as if he hears the worry in my voice. “It was either that or burn to death.”
My face pales at his choice of words, and I swallow the lump forming in my throat. He notices.
“I’m sorry—”
“No,” I say, cutting him off. Now is not the time to go down memory lane again. It’s been years, and thinking about my father won’t bring him back. “We need to get you out of this gear …”
“I agree, gorgeous,” he says, his smile growing.
I roll my eyes. “I’ll get you a gown and get you entered into the system.”
“Not so fast,” he says, gripping my hand tighter to where I can’t walk away but not enough to hurt me.
“I’m going to sign myself out if you don’t say yes.”
I frown. “Yes to what?”
“A date. With me.” I open my mouth with a refusal when he adds, “Or I leave.”
I place my free hand on my hip. “You’re trying to guilt me into a date?”
“Yes,” he says with no shame.
Why am I not surprised? “Is that how you get your dates?” I ask.
“I do what is necessary in order to get the job done,” he replies matter-of-factly.
“So now I’m just a job?” I can’t help but laugh at that.
He looks me up and down with a glint in his eyes. “I wouldn’t say that.”
I narrow my eyes at him because really there is no way out of this. He jumped out of a second-story window, and I saw the pain on his face when he was trying to sit up. As his adrenaline wears off, he’ll start to feel more pain. He could have serious internal injuries. But he could have been faking it to get a date with me …
I take my free hand and shove him backward, not hard enough to knock him off the side of the bed but hard enough that he has to strain to stay upright.
“Fuck!” He hisses through gritted teeth. “What was that for?” he asks now breathing heavy. No doubt the shove took his breath away for a moment.
“Just making sure,” I tell him with a smile on my face.
“Making sure what?” he asks, letting go of my hand finally.
“That you weren’t faking it, of course.” My smile grows.
It fades the moment he stands up off the bed and towers over me. He looks even bigger with his bunkers on, his eyes a darker gray and his forehead covered with a thin layer of sweat and his hair is damp as well. He smells of smoke and sweat, and I take a step back from him.
“Yes or no, gorgeous?” he asks, taking a step with me. “If you say yes, I’ll lie back down on the bed. If you say no, I’ll leave and possibly die in my sleep tonight due to unknown injuries. My life is in your hands.” He spreads his arms out wide with a cocky smi
le on his face.
I snort. “Aren’t you dramatic?” But a part of me knows he’s right. He needs to be examined. He arches a brow, and I sigh in defeat. “Fine. One date.” He gives me a winning smile, and I roll my eyes. “But I get to pick the place.”
“Of course.” He scoffs as if he wouldn’t be such a jerk to deny me that. But enough of one to guilt me into a date.
I let out a long breath and walk past him to his door. “I’ll get you a gown and a new nurse.”
He doesn’t argue with me. Pick your battles and all, I guess.
“Are you off tomorrow?” he asks.
I could lie and tell him no, but the fact is that I am. And if I said no, then it’ll just be prolonging the inevitable. I told him I would, so I will. I’m not a coward by any means. “Yes.”
“Perfect. What time should I pick you up?”
Uh. I come to a stop and turn to face him once again. He’s already climbing into the bed, one leg at a time, and I feel bad for shoving him earlier because I can see the pain flash across his face before he masks it.
When he’s finally seated again, he looks up at me expectantly. Do I want him coming to my place? It would be rude of me not to invite him in, but I still haven’t unpacked a single box. What if I manage to meet him outside and avoid him coming in when he picks me up, but then the date goes bad? I can’t just jump out of his car as he comes to a stop outside my building without him asking questions. What if he wants to come up to my apartment for sex? How would I get him to leave?
“I’ll meet you at your house,” I finally say.
He doesn’t argue, just gives me a sly smile as if he knows all the scenarios I just went through. “Whatever you want, gorgeous,” he says.
I turn around and walk out of his room, letting out a long breath. I have a date tomorrow night! And for some reason, I am nervous about that.
Chapter 6
Karter
Burn Me Anthology Page 77